This sounds sexist, but often the worst thing a pretty girl can do is ruin it by speaking. I’m sure it applies to men as well. Still, when a man begins blabbing, I have no problem pivoting and exiting. When it’s a pretty girl, my ears and eyes fight while The Clash plays music in my brain.
Should I stay or should I go?
If I stay, I may need to drink myself into a taxi ride.
If I go, my sexual needs will be denied.
So, you’ve got to stem the flow,
of nonsense from your yap,
or I must go.
Perhaps it’s typical nervous reaction … or, maybe it’s cocaine. The words stream as the thoughts traverse her mind. Each noun that gets any reaction tangents off into another thought as my pal and I watch her cleavage and legs become less attractive. Finally, she gets up to powder her hose, and we regroup.
“What the hell is going on with that crazy woman?”
“I’d still fuck her.”
“Nice. Don’t think I could do it. She’d be yelling out directions like Peyton Manning facing a third-down blitz, while I tried to maintain the integrity of a fading hard-on.”
“Just concentrate on something else.”
“Shit, I don’t know. I have a thick mental catalog full of fantasy fucks. When things start souring, I scan, retrieve, and my bone is born again.”
“Let’s say I’m somehow able to ignore the babble and complete my sexual obligation. What then? You know there’s going to be all sorts of post-coital discussion. Heck, she may have an entire table of experts set up to review the replays and make diagnoses and predictions. I’m not up for a one-hour post-game show. On the seventh day, I need rest.”
“Dude, just kick her ass out when you’re done.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’ll need to wear waterproof clothing to avoid the wine bath she’d deliver the next time I ran into her.”
“Untrue. She’ll be so embarrassed about bangin’ you after just meeting you, she’ll act like she doesn’t know you.”
“You forgot to say, ‘no offense.'”
“Prick. I can’t do it. She’s all yours.”
“Wait, here she comes. Hm. She does have nice legs.”
“A great ass too.”
“Her lips are looking plump.”
“I know. Maybe, I will do her.”
Then she spoke, and …
This indecision’s bugging me.
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