I’m so frustrated. It’s as fruitless as buying stock or picking horses at the track for me. I rarely have what I’m about to do or say interpreted properly, leading to my desired outcome.
Here’s an example. Years ago, I had a surprise one-nighter while on a company trip. My coworker roommate (bless his heart), who was half my age, returned to our room late night with a two-pack of lovely specimens. Next to a cold six-pack of Corona, that certainly did not suck. He was generous enough to escort one my way. It was dark enough to obscure my facial fault lines. She was drunk enough to give zero fucks anyway.
An awkward, yet delightful evening of bumping nasties led to an even more awkward morning of facing the music. I rather enjoyed the previous night’s events. I was unsure whether she even remembered them. I watched her wiggle to the westwoom in my wittle t-shirt. I high-fived my joyous penis.
She came from the bathroom fully clothed and handed me my neatly folded t-shirt. I sniffed it. The next thing that oozed from my gin-soaked lips was quite possibly the dumbest thing said by man since, “Watch me throw this M-80.”
“Ahh. I’m going to wear this. It smells like you.”
Even if we had been married for seven years, that would have been quite douchey. I realize that now. Well, I realized it as she cringed, actually. There was no taking it back. I basted in my silliness.
She left in a hurry, and I did some post-game analysis as I watched ESPN do theirs. If she really, really, really liked me, that might not have been so douchey. She may have found that flattering (as intended). That statement may have dampened her ’tween the legs, and led to another morning rump-a-bump.
There have been numerous times when I’ve volleyed compliments that were not taken as such. I’m beginning to realize that’s due to one of three things:
- Her insecurity.
- Her lack of feelings toward me.
- Her preference for a more dominant mate.
What sucks is I rarely have an inkling about women’s desires. Worse yet, they change minute by minute. Maybe my best strategy would be to offer compliments with a spicy coating, to cover the widest range of possibilities. Instead of pussy puckering prattle, I could have tried some of these:
- “You keep it. Next time you touch yourself, I want you to wear it, and remember Big Daddy.”
- “Who told you to cover that sweet ass of yours? Get those clothes off!”
- “Who are you?”
- “When you come back for more cock tonight, either bring some weed or a covered dish.”
- “Be a doll and grab me a latte. When you return, I’m going to lick you like a Rocket Pop.”
Nah. Still douchey.
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