Not With A 10 Foot Pole
I live for “after” work hang outs.
As usual everyone is headed to TGIFridays for the late night happy hour libations. Oh yes, this is where I get my drink on and drink my HUGE mug of Killians with a straw. Yes, I just said that.
Tonight has such a wonderful air to it. Everyone is pumped to be off work and the men and women are having a good time flirting, smoking, drinking. I’M having a fantastic time drinking and flirting… I am single, I can do these things… that’s how I roll.
I am with my room-mate when another friend from our work joined our group with a handsome…no strike that… HAWT friend in tow. Happens to be that they are cousins and room-mates. Nice.
So I am sitting across from the cousins and the HAWT one is completely eyeball fucking me with these wild eyes. I can’t tell you what any of the conversations are about because all I can pay attention to is those wild eyes burning into me.
Sure, I am a fairly pretty girl, but this man is above my league. He is tall, muscular, gorgeous, masculine… yet beautiful in a “pretty” way. His clothes were crisp and pristine, his hair in place. My immediate thought was “Greek God”. Seriously.
Luckily for me, the bar closes at 1am so I do not have to worry about Hawt dudes searing gaze for very long. I was highly intimidated by him.
Low and behold… right under my nose, the room-mate makes plans for an after “party” with the cousins at their apartment. Fucking Great!! I don’t know what it is about Hawt dude but I want nothing to do with his playa’ playa’ self. I was disgustingly pleased she made the plans behind my back, yet at the same time resistant.
While still at the bar, Hawt dude and I make small conversation. I remember none of it except his wild eyes and his nervous cackle. Oh…and yea… that he doesn’t “do” girlfriends.
Well lucky for you Hawt dude because I don’t do boyfriends either. We are on the same page.
Everyone stands to leave and I grab my room-mate by the arm and whisper in her ear…
~Don’t let me touch him with a 10 foot pole. ~
I had a gut feeling that Hawt dude was bad news… BAD news.
Her response is so classic…
-Will you at least touch him, just once, for me then. –
FUCK! No roomie… no, no, no. Not with a 10 foot pole.
And so, tonight I met B (aka Hawt dude)… and we started our two year love affair.
Don’t trust 10 foot poles, they never work. I can honestly say I didn’t touch him, not this night.
© bipolarmuse 2012
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2000. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Barrel in your mouth. (bipolarmuse.com)