Okay:
I went on a date yesterday. Nice girl. We've been on several dates before. I once took her to a hookah bar in Adam's Morgan. Each time we've gone out though, it's been at night.
When I was in junior high school, my favorite rap group was Black Sheep. They had a hot little ditty, "Strobelight Honey." It was all about this dude trying to get with this girl at a club. But when she's steps into the light, the spell is broken. He spends the rest of the night running from her. The chorus went: "I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go."
So, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and there was a cool, autumn breeze blowing. Perfect. I picked her up from her apartment. I waited for her in the courtyard of her building, surrounded by a beautifully manicured lawn, flanked by towering elms. Birds were chirping. She came out of the lobby's glass door, smiling. She have me a hug and a light kiss on the cheek, and I almost immediately noticed, well...stubble.
Then I took a big gander at her in the light of the September sun. This woman and I have the same facial hair growth pattern!
I am not a hairy man. It's a condition. My father had a full beard by the time he was my age. The men on my mother's side all have hairy faces. I, on the other hand, have a sparse spattering of nappy tufts. I've got about thirty hairs on each cheek, scattered about like crabgrass. I've got a hundred or so on my chin and, thankfully, a decent mustache. I've also got a renegade colony in the crease of my neck. But now that I'm on the darkside of my twenties, I'm figuring I'll never get that goatee I always wanted.
I stared at her shadows and razor bumps all afternoon. I was more fascinated than anything else. I thought she might make a great candidate for that laser hair removal surgery. Then my thoughts went, as they often do, to "darker" places. If she's got all this hair on her face, where else might the little prickly bastards be bedding? Her chest? Her back? Places further south?
We went to a nice waterfront seafood restaurant in Georgetown. She had a salad, and I had stuffed shrimp. It was obscenely expensive, but you could not have imagined a better scene. We sat on the patio, a few yards away from the water. Every few minutes we'd be interrupted by someone cranking up their jet boat. The patrons were as diverse as a UN summit. It felt like we were in another country. But my eyes kept traveling back to that bumpy chin of hers; a kind of fleshy sandpaper it was.
We got juiced and went back to her apartment after sundown. By then, I couldn't see the stubble. Out of sight, out of mind. We drank wine, watched a movie (Power--starring Richard Gere, Gene Hackman and Denzel Washington, directed by Sidney Lumet--a must-see). We were in negotiations but stopped short of a merger.
This chick was crazy. She waffled back and forth more than a Democratic presidential candidate. "Give it to me!...No, we can't...Touch me...Get off me...I want you...This can't happen!" And then finally, "You have to leave."
I went home disappointed, thinking, "That was a long ass expensive date for her hairy ass to not give me no pussy."
Apology: I must apologize to my subscribers for the inconsistent posting. The beginning of the school year is always rough. I will be posting more regularly soon.
Tip of the Day: Do not fry chicken naked. Bad things will happen.
Shameless Plug: Check out this video footage of me at DC9 a year or so ago.
http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=3046199
Add to My Profile More Videos
I went on a date yesterday. Nice girl. We've been on several dates before. I once took her to a hookah bar in Adam's Morgan. Each time we've gone out though, it's been at night.
When I was in junior high school, my favorite rap group was Black Sheep. They had a hot little ditty, "Strobelight Honey." It was all about this dude trying to get with this girl at a club. But when she's steps into the light, the spell is broken. He spends the rest of the night running from her. The chorus went: "I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go."
So, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and there was a cool, autumn breeze blowing. Perfect. I picked her up from her apartment. I waited for her in the courtyard of her building, surrounded by a beautifully manicured lawn, flanked by towering elms. Birds were chirping. She came out of the lobby's glass door, smiling. She have me a hug and a light kiss on the cheek, and I almost immediately noticed, well...stubble.
Then I took a big gander at her in the light of the September sun. This woman and I have the same facial hair growth pattern!
I am not a hairy man. It's a condition. My father had a full beard by the time he was my age. The men on my mother's side all have hairy faces. I, on the other hand, have a sparse spattering of nappy tufts. I've got about thirty hairs on each cheek, scattered about like crabgrass. I've got a hundred or so on my chin and, thankfully, a decent mustache. I've also got a renegade colony in the crease of my neck. But now that I'm on the darkside of my twenties, I'm figuring I'll never get that goatee I always wanted.
I stared at her shadows and razor bumps all afternoon. I was more fascinated than anything else. I thought she might make a great candidate for that laser hair removal surgery. Then my thoughts went, as they often do, to "darker" places. If she's got all this hair on her face, where else might the little prickly bastards be bedding? Her chest? Her back? Places further south?
We went to a nice waterfront seafood restaurant in Georgetown. She had a salad, and I had stuffed shrimp. It was obscenely expensive, but you could not have imagined a better scene. We sat on the patio, a few yards away from the water. Every few minutes we'd be interrupted by someone cranking up their jet boat. The patrons were as diverse as a UN summit. It felt like we were in another country. But my eyes kept traveling back to that bumpy chin of hers; a kind of fleshy sandpaper it was.
We got juiced and went back to her apartment after sundown. By then, I couldn't see the stubble. Out of sight, out of mind. We drank wine, watched a movie (Power--starring Richard Gere, Gene Hackman and Denzel Washington, directed by Sidney Lumet--a must-see). We were in negotiations but stopped short of a merger.
This chick was crazy. She waffled back and forth more than a Democratic presidential candidate. "Give it to me!...No, we can't...Touch me...Get off me...I want you...This can't happen!" And then finally, "You have to leave."
I went home disappointed, thinking, "That was a long ass expensive date for her hairy ass to not give me no pussy."
Apology: I must apologize to my subscribers for the inconsistent posting. The beginning of the school year is always rough. I will be posting more regularly soon.
Tip of the Day: Do not fry chicken naked. Bad things will happen.
Shameless Plug: Check out this video footage of me at DC9 a year or so ago.
http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=3046199
Add to My Profile More Videos
I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go
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