I was bored.
So, I decided to go out to dinner and “catch up” with this straight guy “friend.” He takes me to an expensive restaurant and tries to sit on the same side instead of across from me like only “real” friends would do.
I am visibly uncomfortable, but acquiesce as he just bought me my favorite champagne and I’m feeling like a few drinks might make him more interesting.
The night wears on, we finish dinner and he drives me to my house.
I say “Thank you and good night,” but he wants to use my bathroom.
Ladies – DO NOT fall for this one!
He doesn’t have to go and he can wait until he gets home. Remember, he also has the advantage of possessing a penis, which he can whip out on the side of the road if things get desperate. He does not need toilet paper, privacy or even a bush to hide behind. He only wants to get into your house and, subsequently, into your pants.
Okay, so I foolishly let him in. He uses the restroom, walks out, and plops his unwelcome ass on my couch. Oh, what to do now?! He asks for an aspirin – claims to have a headache. I get him the aspirin.
This is where it got weird!
The fuck-tard actually had the balls to insinuate himself into my bedroom because he now “thinks it’s a migraine.”
Now, this fuck is on my bed!
I stand in the kitchen with my tea, and wonder how I’m going to get rid of this loser. Ten minutes go by, 15 minutes … by the time it was a half-hour, I became enraged. This ass-clown things he’s staying the night.
I walk into my bedroom and – BOOM – there he is. He’s got his pants off and is under my covers, peering over them with a lecherous gleam in his eye. “Joining me?” he asks.
This sends me into anger orbit. I demand that he get out of my bed, get dressed and out of my house immediately. “What? We’ve been friend all these years and after everything I’ve done for you, you’re going to treat me like this? I only wanted to talk.”
Bullshit!
We had done plenty of talking at the restaurant. I have no need to experience “pillow talk” in my own bed with this moron, who thought he was finally going to play “hide the sausage” with the gorgeous object of his perverted desire.
This kind of stuff just doesn’t happen with girlfriends. When I’ve invited Jane and Kat to stay over and there are not enough beds, inevitably, someone will sleep with me in mine. There’s never a thought that I’m going to get molested and vice versa. That’s just the way it is. Jane and I have slept together many times and it’s fun. It’s like a slumber party and we’re back in Junior High. In fact, we will wake up the next morning and be able to recount the previous night’s events, saving a lengthy phone call later.
It Goes Something Like this:
Jane: “Marisa, do you remember dirty dancing with so-and-so last night? And his ex-wife was standing by watching and you know she’s still in love with him.”
Me: “Really? What else happened?”
This goes on and on until I get up and make coffee. Then Kat joins us and we sit for another hour and I’m actually sad to see them leave.
Stay tuned for my next entry, when I will discuss what you do when you use a guy for sex and accidentally let him stay the night.