Same Situation. Different Man.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Short story based on real life experiences.

Men, women, sex, relationships, life of a single person, big city life, one-night stands, drugs, alcohol, party, cocaine, unsuccessful love life, friends, girls, women, desperation, loneliness, craziness.

*Dirty Realism*

Same situation. Different man.

 

Me and my girls, like most of Saturday nights, were drinking, smoking, maybe taking a bit of coke (can't remember now) at my place. Talking about life, work and as always - MEN. Listening to Get Lucky from Pharell while we were all imagining getting actually lucky that night, like probably every single person around the globe. We were heading to our 'meatpacking district', the part of London where sexy young professionals - locals live and a club which is best-known for you-can-definitely-have-your-one-night-stand-tonight. This made me think now we really are sluts, but actually we are not (I will refer to this statement throughout anyway). All just young and mainly tired of looking for Mr Right as we have mostly met only assholes. Plus we are all working women, busy all the time so no time for serious relationships anyway.So what do we actually want? I guess we dont know. Do you know what you really want deep inside of yourself??

 We, especially me, I hated that place as it was too cheesy but than the music was so good that even after 10th time I had a time of my life. I love to dance and when they play the best of lets say 90s and you are surrounded by your girls, drunk, I mean, cmon you know what I mean. Legendary was every single night, and this one too.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Dancing behind the DJs (who were our friends of course as we were always coming to them and saying what track we want to hear and showing thumbs down when it was shit which they knew and they laughed, but they had to play it as it was the big hit now) when I saw the 'the triangle'. Amazingly shaped back, like it was a statue precisely shaped by Michelangelo's hands. And his moves, I love when a guy can feel the rhythm,plus the mentioned back, THE BACK, for god sake. I had an orgasm when I looked at it, or was it mainly the alcohol? or the weed? the Coke? I don't know but…we were dancing next to each other with my girls and checking him out from behind. After that comes the flash (the dark, the blank moment you don't remember what was going on and day after you find 10 pictures where you look like you are about to die or pictures with people you have no clue who the hell they are). After that flash I remember one of my friends told me he is also checking me out but I didn't notice a thing. I never notice these things, thats one of my problems. This is gonna be a bit off but NOW I remembered the first time I saw him was at the bar, I came there looking confident (only because I had some alcohol in my veins) and saw quite ok guy there with huge muscles looking very dangerous. But I didn't pay any attention. Another issue, I see a sexy guy I quite like and he is looking at me but just because I like him, I pretend not to care. Stupid! Or shall I say- woman-like??

Now back to the moment when my friend is saying: He is checking you out too! I am like: No way! She goes: Yes he is! Go and get his number, cmon! Lets make this clear. I have NEVER went to a guy and asked for his number, ever. But after all, if you never try, you never know. So I still don't understand how I could but I made my way to him while he was at the bar ordering drinks with his sexy friend (his brother). I came there and with that BACK in my face I kind of knocked on his shoulder haha. Hi, I said, I would like to ask if I can get your number. Or something STUPID like that. he was like Yeah Sure, we exchanged numbers and he gave me there-you-go-poor-girl kiss on the cheek. I left all happy but cause I was drunk and of course I texted him like 6am, can't remember.

As it was months ago, I am not sure exactly how it progressed but he was a dick from the beginning. Sending me pictures of his six pack (yes, awesome but not every hour), pictures from 'carnival' where he had only a tie and a hat and tight pair of black trousers. First note here, only a tie??? My reaction was - are you a freaking gigolo?? Another fact, a hat. Always a hat. Not a cool snapback, The french hat which goes to your forehead. My teacher told us trendmous story of how the psychology works when people wear a hat or a clown nose - they change their personalities, they are most of the time escaping their selves as they are nervous or don't feel confident in presenting their selves. He was a bit weird, but as I am open minded and I liked his body and was missing sex, I kept on talking to him.

So for the first week, A WEEK, we were just communicating via phone, I was waiting every day he will ask me out, and nothing. When suddenly, he proposed a date on Friday night. As I told him I love to dance, and he has been dancing salsa since he was young (latino baby) he said he will take me out for some cocktails and salsa in one of best salsa clubs in London. Sounds like a dream huh? Wait for it…. We were supposed to meet at 22pm at the tube station. He texted me he is going to be late! I was shocked as its me in most cases. As I researched the whole area before, I knew there is some small bar just in front of station. I went there. Orange exterior, was looking like its freaking Halloween from inside, fake spider webs and people dressed in black with spikes which I love but tonight I dressed up for date and salsa which means short black dress, wavy hair, which means total fail in a bar like that. I stayed there behind bar drinking my vodka with lime which I drunk in 5 minutes when he texted he is outside the other entrance of the station (London!). I was walking down the road, nervous, trying to see him first in the crowd so I can set the atmosphere. GOD he was tall, wide shoulders in black long coat, burgundy jeans and vans trainers. I LOVED it. I totally freaked out but I was trying to stay cool and calm. He bought some cigarettes for me, Camels, my favourites. We came to one of best cocktail bars in neighbourhood, ordered some and while waiting, listening to that loud music. There was the song on 'I know you want me, you know I want ya' when he leaned to me and said to my ear: This is for us….I was wet, immediately. I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. We went downstairs, sit down in a dark corner, watch people, drink, talk and he was dancing a little while sitting. Its getting hot in here, I thought. He took me out, spoke to security guy and got us a black cab to the Salsa club. We get out, skipped the looong queue, he shaked hands with all guys, and we went in without paying. He knew everyone in there, they took our coats, some guys hanging in sofas gave us their seats when they saw him, I waited there and he came back with bottle of Courvoisier. Am I on a date with some mafia-kind-of guy? This bottle is for us, he said. Dancing the whole night, drinking our bottle, I danced my ass off, danced with him, salsa all night his friends, his cousins, whoever. It felt amazing, like I am in club in south America. I remember his hot cousin and talking to him while my date went somewhere (it turned out to take some coke) with a guy who came with two bitches and a cigar in his mouth. Talking to him about drugs, laughing, dancing, he was looking at me in a strange way, the way i-wanna-fuck-you-too (day after I have been told I slapped him, no clue about that). Dance until 6 am and then to my place. Flash, flash, flash. Cab, my bed, him behind me, touching me, me touching him, small-sized dick in my hand. I woke up. What was a dream and what actually happened? Was his dick really small? Or where we just too drunk??

Few days after he sent me pictures taken by photographer from that night. Me on the dance floor with courvoisier in my hand, me with it in hand with 6 people, with it in hand with 3 girls, other guys, with him dancing. Shame! Expression on my face like an alcoholic whore. Was a great date thou, after ages with a man who took me out dancing. We met few more times at my place, he stayed over, despite being always late (2-4 hours) he made me to cook for him. I had even downloaded fucking recipes and cooked something special. DO NOT ever do that! Only if he treats you like a princess. Anyway, I found out I will probably move country as I got a job offer. I told him, he was shocked a little. He said he doesn't want to get attached but he will come to visit. However, after talking more and more, I realised he had those muscles, but small dick, which is even worse when a guy like that lays down in your bed and say: Come on top of me girl!….Coward. Women need a man who can fuck their mind off! Remember that…Also, I have realised his life is about work and gym in the weeks and MDMA and party until 7-12 am over weekends (mind you he was 30!). As I left the country, I was still flying to London and back to finish my studies. I came one day, went of course shopping and visit galleries, he texted what I am up to. His reaction was 'Art is boring and school sucks.' To sum up: My last message to him was more about him talking how hot he is and that he is amazing in bed as he is latino and when he came he laid down in my bed and wanted me to do all the work, fail number 1. Then I of course highlighted that he should shave himself for future women as its totally unhygienic (it was like a fucking jungle, believe me so no blow jobs for sure). And that in his 30s he should be able to do more than gym and taking MDMA and if a man is saying to me art sucks and school is boring, there is no way I can even speak to him. Moreover, we were supposed to meet that night and of course like for 100th time he didn't keep a word and didn't call or text…….so my last part of message to him was, adios!…….Latino Fucking muchachos, as my friend claimed after dating latino guy too….

 


Submitted: December 02, 2014

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