Home Remedy

Mechanical Typewriter

a factual technicality
contractual reality
conceptually inaccurate
remembering when
again and again
says she likes her men
fashionably passionate

wait a minute, there is a catch
before I strike a match

immolation reflects off her eyes
not passing through the lenses
resurrection between her thighs
driving her out of her senses

ready to please

words obeyed
but never spoken

genuflecting with ease

a promise not made
is never broken

I stop
I am not done
nor demanding
she has come
understanding
are you sure?

(tilting my head toward the door)

sitting in silence
is she taking a guess?
I acquiesced to this palliative cure

before leaving she turns
may I come back for more?

Prevarication

I let people lie to me, because when they think I believe the lies they believe I am the biggest moron and they can tell me bigger lies. But I only do that because I know they will start telling the the truth… They can’t help it. It reminds me of spending a little time in AA. NA and other such programs Usually while in the BHU. Addicts would brag they were the best liars. Okay, I am going to believe you now. Then they tell the biggest lie ever no one could ever believe, but give them ten minutes and they are confessing the biggest truths. Why the fuck would I want to talk to this person? After the big confession, they start with the, Oh god! I really want to straighten myself out and I need rehab (place to stay for 30 days) and then then they get out to the lunchroom and they are trading numbers with the other addicts where to get the best drugs when they leave the BHU….I am the biggest addict you will ever meet but I’m not hanging around with these shitheads. I keep my mouth shut during meetings. Why? I want to quit… I can’t but I’m not hanging around with anyone who brags about being a huge fucking liar.

Fucking bitches lie to me, oh, I want you so bad! Oh yeah, yeah, I love you too…! I’m broke this week… Oh, sorry I’m busy… never would have guessed? Okay, forget I said bitches. I have been talking to a woman on Bumble, I almost deleted the shit. OnIy reason I did not delete the app. thought I did but got a response from her. I have been inviting her for a bagel and saying that usually turns into “coffee”, means different things to different people. Three fucking days she is asking me what I mean by “coffee”. What the fuck do you think I mean? Straight back Colombian? Saturday, she tells me she has had an illness, Thank god it’s not Covid! but she is still contagious. If she doesn’t want to meet for “coffee” just tell me I’m an asshole! or what? In the past few days she got tested for Covid but didn’t mention it? And she is still contagious with whatever cold or flu virus or fucking sniffle. If she was covid conscious, she never asked if I wear a mask. Should I go on? She is scared I may get the common cold and die?

Finished!

Come On Over! Royal Blood

Heart colored pencils

Okay, all week, I’m talking serious shit to serious people. But not to M—-, I’m pissed at her because she insisted I download Signal to chat with her it has more privacy. I don’t want to quote Ice T, but, “For the record. I am not a Democrat and I am not Republican so you can miss me with all your Left-Right talk.. Both Wings are on the same Bird
True Dat. While the Democrats and Republicans were fighting tooth and nail who was going to receive $600 dollars in stimulus money along party lines, it barely made the news that all of them voted unanimously there would be no more end to end encryption allowed on any devices or websites. I didn’t want to ruin her illusions. But after a week she started using three different phone numbers on the same app… each with similar names but different. And different pics but not of her, they were pictures from the sims game. figured none of them were her real name. I have never don’t a background search on anyone, except a basic Whitepages to see if someone has the correct name when they tell me too text me at 2am. But she admitted she only had 3 google voice voice numbers. Okay? How did she spoof me with a 919 number from Raliegh? and then another one an hour later a made up dating site profile from 919?

Never once did a background check on anyone, but this is crazy! She has 5 alises! 10 bucks background check. She has 6 landlines! who the hell has a landline and three cell numbers pop up.. Not thinking I click on one it is not her name it is some stranger halfway across the country but it’s making sense now.. I think.. but no I was working through it backwards! I thought I found her real name.. She took her name by changing one letter of her drug counselor’s name when she was in prison.. No big deal but what the fuck? She got 15 different addresses, different versions of the same person’s name. I thought I was on the right track finding her dad’s obituary.. It wasn’t her dad she mentioned doing Zoom calls about a funeral. It was this drug counselor’s dad! I was feeling like Chaz Palmenterri at the end of Usual Suspects. When “Verbal” walks out of his office and he starts noticing where the story came from!

I gave up on her but she kept texting me and I”m out of my mind. But I remember when we first met she explained when she had sex and it didn’t turn into love she felt, guilt shame and anger… etc.. I told her we couldn’t have sex.. ever.. She understood and we hung out, platonically. She disappeared for a few years and came back after she had a ruinous relationship and started hanging out with me but remember I hated her talking shit about the mystical..But I figured we were hanging out driving around having coffee. I ignored her bullshit. One day she invited herself over to watch a movie… Well, I knew exactly what that meant but I can’t help myself. We had sex but she got pissed because I didn;’t fall in love. I thought that was the last I would hear from her.

Until this summer.. Okay.. Same mystical bullshit but I was into the numbers, nothing else… I don’t believe it. [Skip ahead] This week, I’m out of my skull trying to talk to the people I love, (not her) she keeps interjecting.. She is inviting herself over… She got no heat… Okay, come over here, I don’t care.. But yeah, I will probablyt turn it into sex… then a long explanation, she can’t… Okay, I don’t give a shit! I am am mad at you.. I don’t say, I say, I understand… But she invites herself over for coffee…. and cancels… Finally, I don’t want to do it but I want to get rid of her.. I didn’t say, come on over! I sent the link to” Come On Over, by Royal Blood, listen to the song! She didn’t get it!

She told me the story about the last time she had sex! 09/16/2016. Okay…. That was with me! I did not write down the date! I guessed.. I knew it was right before I got run over by a car! I asked, “With me?” I knew he answer… Then she described all the shit leading up to it. I knew all of it. I am not forgetful. Short term yes…, She asked me why I sent the song “Come on Over”? I said, obviously beside the title, the whole song. “OH!” Couple hours later she wanted a simple yes or no answer, Did I want her to come over only for sex… Yes I did, but not anymore, I answered “Yes” because I knew that would piss her off and she would not come.. she sent me a long diatribe about women be hormonal and men being attracted, how could I know over email?… I answered yes because we cannot have sex! No answer… Hours later she wanted coffee… I know what “coffee” means, I said, I am already walking for coffee.. That was it… Do you think she is going to contact me again? I can’t do it! I can’t have a woman wait 5 years for me.. I have sex every five minutes… Listen to Royal Blood, Come on Over!

Such a Lovely Sentiment

Heart colored pencils

“So I got edges that scratch
And sometimes I don’t got a filter
But I’m so tired of eatin’
All of my misspoken words
I know my disposition gets confusing
My disproportionate reactions fuse with my eager state
That’s why you wanna come out and play with me, yeah” “Beggin’ for Thread” BANKS

How many of my stories this year have started with, “Back in June…” ? Well, Back in June, I guess I posted an ad on a pen pal site. No, not a “horny women want to write you letters” pen pal site. I can’t remember what is is called or how I found it. I only remember it had no images. It was text-boxes only. Bare bones HTML forms. I barely remember what I wrote. Something like, “I want to go back to the days before the internet was the internet.” Maybe more. But I meant it. I didn’t want an electronic connection. I used a fake name, my real age, and my real snail mail address. I forgot about it until August, (I think) when I received a three page letter written in perfect cursive script yellow, lined legal paper, from someone claiming to be a 21 year old gay man. “He” wasn’t talking about sex but kept mentioning “he” wanted to share his secrets and if I wanted I could share my secrets. I had no idea who wanted to hear my “secrets” but I wasn’t biting.

Last month I got the obligatory letter from a lonely woman in Russia. I’m not really sure because it was very convincing but I threw it in the trash. If it didn’t come from Russia I may have saved it.

Wednesday night my mom was asking if I had any newspapers to catch the potato and carrot peels. Here I am, 52 and I’m the kid again, it’s my job to the peel the fucking vegetables. “Newspapers? What are those?” I thought I haven’t checked my mail in a week, I bet my box is stuffed with grocery store flyers. Those are newspapers, right? I got down there and I was right but sitting in front was an unusual envelope. I read it and thought, figures, I got someone else’s mail again. Wait a minute! That’s my pseudonym!

I got back upstairs and my mom went out to smoke so I opened the envelope. It was odd sized, inside was small paper with a pattern printed border with hand writing. I’m not going to share the details because it is more real than something I would find on the internet. There was nothing personal, there was no tease. It was from a woman, it said, Hi, my name is (…), my friends call me (…) I found you on some penpal site and I like writing letters. This is my first letter to you. Inside the envelope there were more pieces of paper, I imagine were from a stationery store but like, where? A one and a half by four inch piece of purple paper with a small watermark? On that she asked a few of my favorite things, food, etc.. but, favorite smell? That was a good one. Another piece I think was part of a note card and had basics about her, three things she likes and three things she doesn’t. Nothing earthshaking. We both like music. Wow.

I put it away until my mom left Sunday and I spread it out on the table. If this person is pulling the long con, they really put too much effort into it. I noticed she switched different colored pens randomly and tiny stickers. Kids stuff but she said she was in her 30’s. I’m weird, I used to do this shit when I was younger.

I thought there is no way I can respond by typing on the computer and printing out an 8 1/2 by 11 and sending it off in a business envelope. But I want to write back. I don’t have any materials. Then I noticed there was another piece of paper with a printed border which was left blank. Okay. I imagine that is for me to write on. I only have a black pen but it’s a start. Where am I supposed to find an envelope for this?

You know me though. I am quite verbose. My favorite smell? You know that is going to be more than a one word answer. That was a good one because I just came up with it a few weeks ago when I was walking down the street.

I remembered I had an old journal with unique pages from years ago. But I can’t fill the whole thing up and mail it. I decided to write my one word (paragraph answers in sections and cut them apart and use the paper she provided for a “thanks for writing” note. That’s pretty good, right? I wanted to put at least a quarter as much effort into it. I don’t know, it was fun. I am under no illusion we are going to fall in love and live happily ever after.

Meanwhile… The same guy who says he wants to get off the internet is back on the internet. Fucking Bumble! I’m not drinking… When do I do this shit? But this was good. Somebody finally got the point of my profile being a big fucking joke! Who was it? Apparently someone who is very well educated. I don’t know… Well… I do know the impression I give by the way I speak. But the funniest phrase (to me) I’ve been using for months is, “I know when to drop the vernacular.” I think it’s funny because I think a lot of people who hear it wouldn’t imagine I know the word, “vernacular.” I love that word. “Colloquialism” used to be one of my favorites but it sounds stilted. It doesn’t “roll off the tongue.”

I lost track of my mind… Oh, right, my point is I don’t use words because I think they sound cool. I choose certain words because they mean exactly what I mean to say.

She made a joke about my elephants hiding in trees joke and didn’t ask me to explain why I was one big joke. I checked out her profile. It made sense now… She said she appreciates people who appreciate the absurdity of life. And, she is ivy league! I am going to like this… I was right. I could relate.

I forget everything. She said she had the good fortune to have a job she enjoyed and I told her I don’t believe in luck. Please go on… Please go on? Don’t do it! What have I been running around yelling about all year? Synchronicity. Okay, I did it.

It was starting to get too serious and I wanted to make myself clear. Because at some point, I added to my profile something about people like me for my honesty and openness and not pretending to be someone I’m not. I picked my spot and interjected, “Either way one of us is trying to get lucky tonight.”

It was an educated guess and worked to move things along. Now I know she likes to be playful but this is my kind of playful. We were talking about something and she used the word “unmoored”. I stopped her and said, I don’t mean to change the subject but I am more interested in the word unmoored. (WordPress doesn’t recognize it as a word. You bastards!) She said, “It’s not a bad place to be.” I’m thinking, How does she know I’m crazy? I added, “If it is even a place…. It doesn’t change from an adjective to a noun until you drop anchor.” Mm… “Why would anyone want to do that?” Okay, now we are getting somewhere.

Then she was struck by me writing about Grace Jones being my love language… Oh shit! That is when I changed my profile! What the fuck going on with Grace Jones? I said, I love her language she speaks in tongues.

She said her words bring her warmth… I told her , her words are bringing me warmth… Then she said it…

“Indeed?”

I know it’s an expression but I know it means something more than it means to me. I had to look it up and I am so glad I did.

I told her what I found.

Indeed: used to emphasize a statement or response confirming something already suggested.

Indeed: used to introduce a further and stronger or more surprising point.

She said,

“Indeed”

She said, “Your username (BoringOldBill) is sunk in the very depths of irony”

There was a lot more but those were the highlights.

Whatever we had fun but I keep doing this to myself. I’m never going to meet her. What am I going to do? Tell her I’m on disability for being unmoored? Am I pretending to be someone I’m not? I have to get offline. I feel like Cyrano in the bushes telling the acceptable guy what to say. I am giving a false impression though. Come take a look at my apartment. I am not “put together.” I always say people come to my place to see me, not my apartment, but…

This is why I’ve been trying to stay offline. I didn’t even know I was back online! I’ve barely touched my phone for a week. then it beeped last night? I

I have to get out of here.

I Don’t Get It?

Heart colored pencils

“Paranoia is in bloom
The PR transmissions will resume
They’ll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down
And hope that we will never see the truth around
(So come on)

Another promise, another scene
Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed
And all the green belts wrapped around our minds
And endless red tape to keep the truth confined
(So come on)”

“Uprising” Muse

It keeps happening! With all the craziness this past week, I was texting Marnie and remembered why I do like talking to her. I let her bullshit slide and she let’s my bullshit slide because we have a lot in common and interesting lives. (This is not the story)

Everything going on, I forgot I had Bumble on my phone until I got a message last night. Like WTF? I don’t remember the last time I opened the app?

The message was, “Why the profile name, “BoringOldBill?” I get that question a lot, half the time they don’t get it and half the time they do, they are trying to get a conversation started. She didn’t get it. I explained, I thought it might give people cause to pause for more than a fraction of a second before they swiped left. Do you think it was a good idea? I didn’t think she was going to answer but I guess she need an hour to think about it. She sent back, “Maybe, it worked, and I guess it is a “bit” funny. It says in your profile you are active, how do you stay active?

Okay, this broad doesn’t get the joke and she obviously doesn’t get the point of Bumble. It’s for women who are tired of get “hey babe, DTF?” messages all the time. That is why the men can’t send the first message, even if you both like each other. She obviously didn’t get the point of my profile. The username is to get you to stop and read my profile if you get the joke and then you see my whole profile is a joke and if you don’t find it funny, don’t send me a message. They even have prompt questions to start conversations, on of my prompts is, “We may get along if you find this funny” and I put a stupid dad joke but it is pretty funny if you have the same sense of humor.

Active? That is one of the checkbox multiple choice questions, “Athletic, Active or Fatass”. She read my profile, saw it was one big joke and she starts off asking a serious question? Active? How do I stay active? Okay, I’ll try one more joke and that will probably be the end of it, “I bicycle in the summer, walk in spring and fall and shiver in the winter.”

She didn’t answer for a bit but I thought WTF? Why am I always on the defensive? Explaining myself? She didn’t get the joke, why did she answer me? I wrote back, I see on your profile it says you are a social drinker, in my experience that means different things to different people, what does it mean to you?

Now she is explaining herself. Okay, she’s not a heavy drinker, but she’s not a social drinker by definition. A “social drinker” is no more than 2 drinks in one session. A “binge drinker is 4 or more for women and 5 or more for men.” Not a sure thing but one of the “red flags” for addiction. I’m not making this up.

I forget exactly she said like, I see you said sober, where are you in your recovery? Well, that’s a huge assumption… She’s correct but… Alcohol is the only drug people wonder why you don’t drink and assume you have a problem if you don’t drink. Nobody ever asks me why I don’t do heroin. I know plenty of people who don’t drink. My last “serious” relationship was with someone who didn’t drink at all. She didn’t like it. I didn’t ask her to explain herself. But apparently that wasn’t a “serious” relationship by a lot of people’s definitions. (I don’t want to get sidetracked)

I was going to leave leave it, we’re obviously not going to meet but I’m questioning why I’m always the one to prove myself worthy? I swiped on her because I read her profile she mentioned a couple things she liked and said, “let’s meet and see what happens” It doesn’t mean she wants to hook up but I that’s what I do, meet and see if you get along. If not, no problem. But why did she answer me? I had no intention of following through but I was being an asshole.

“Recovery?” She answered, I forget the wording but wondering why I don’t drink. I said, “I just don’t like to drink.”, She said, “How do you feel about people who like to drink socially?”, I said, “I feel great about it! It’s not like I’m a Mormon.”…. Her, “Lol, do you like coffee?”, Me, “Hell Yes!” She asked, “Do you make it yourself at home?” I had to think for a moment, “Are you asking if I like to grind?” (suggestive) “I wouldn’t expect someone to got that far, but that would be pretty impressive!” I said, “Some women like it”… She didn’t hesitate, “I’m beginning to think Boring old Bill isn’t so boring.” If I was a scumbag the way people assume because I like to “hookup” or “FWB”, I could have kept lying and might be telling a different story now. I “unmatched” and went to bed.

I don’t know what people assume about me or with whom I have “not serious” relationships. My last “girlfriend” I was highly qualified in a 20 year career in high technology area. She was a freakin’ genius. The company she worked for was a little concerned one time because some idiot crashed the system by not only accidentally deleting the password, but blocking access to the password and they thought she hacked into it, “a little too quickly”. Companies lost millions of dollars every minute the systems were down. (side tracked) She was making over a hundred grand and was considering switching companies to make more. She rented a house, car, beautiful, sexy, kind, what is she doing with scumbag me who is on disability for a mental illness?

We talked all the time, we knew everything about each other, but we weren’t looking for the same thing. She was still dating and hoping to get married some day and I was still hooking up once in while. We joked about the people we met. I’ll tell you the best one. She met a guy who was looking for a “serious relationship.” Good career, owned a house, two kids, divorced. He took her out on a first date, left the restaurant, said he couldn’t go back to his house because there was a baby sitter, would she like to park out back behind the dumpster and have sex in his car? She said, “See ya” and he called the next day and asked her if she would like to go on another date and meet his kids.

I’m the scumbag? I met her for breakfast, acted like a decent human, she took me back to her place, we talked for 12 hours and had sex all night. Then we had a “not serious” relationship for 3 years.

I’m on a rant because I’m sick of having to explain myself. Being on the defensive. I’m not mistreating people, I’m not lying to anyone. Well I lied last night, but I wasn’t trying to meet her. I shouldn’t have done it but I just snapped. I really haven’t been putting serious effort into meeting someone and maybe I do want more but I don’t want to inflict damage on anyone, you know? (I’m sick of explaining myself as I try to explain myself, lol) Last time a woman didn’t like my answers and stopped talking to me, I thought, wait a minute. She on a dating site saying she is “separated”. Separated is not a legal term, it could mean anything. In her case it meant she was still living in the same house and didn’t like her husband but didn’t want to get divorced until she found someone to move in with. There is something morally wrong with me?

Okay, they are looking for a serious relationship. Do they go on one date and it’s serious? Do they date, talk, go out to dinner once a week and have sex for a couple months until the bigger better deal comes along? I don’t know, I’m know plenty of guys who pretended they were looking for a serious relationship so they could get laid.

I was going to write about something else? What was it? Sorry about the rant. Oh yeah. I got up this morning texted my daughter , love you, she loves me… Started getting ramped up before I bought coffee, thought coffee might not be the best idea, bought some anyway. (Reminds me of that redneck comedian, “you might be manic if you have all the symptoms of mania) I texted N===, I started telling her how, that session changed the way I talk to myself and I haven’t been thinking about drinking but she stopped answering after 2 texts. I know I’m not her problem but I wasn’t expecting that. Same with my mom. I didn’t even tell her the odd stuff but she stopped talking to me. I hope she just fell asleep… WTH? She drank until her 50’s and now she is mad at me for drinking.

I could go without drinking while I was doing the smart meetings but sometimes I would do two meetings a day, do all the things they say, plan to stay busy at night etc.. Most of the time I was fine, sometimes I would do all that and at the last minute go buy beer. I don’t know I can’t do the meetings and all you do is talk about using. I was laughing yesterday about someone standing in the doorway smoking and blowing a big cloud and I was like WTF? Then I thought, I used to do that! I quit smoking ten years ago! I almost forgot. I didn’t have an urge to buy a pack of cigarettes.

I don’t get it, no change in lifestyle, yesterday, football all day, getting pissed off at the world, today, ranting, mind racing, recipe for disaster, but nothing.

I was texting M=== earlier, she is the only one glad to hear about it. What is it with me attracting women who don’t drink. My whole life. I’m not complaining but.. Just weird. She was worried about calling about her heat because she wanted to clean her place before anyone came in. I told her about me not wanting to call about my sink. I knew how she was feeling, I asked her if she felt like it was hard to get started. She said she felt overwhelmed. I told her how I started my kitchen by saying I would just do the stove and if I got that done I would be happy and an hour later the dishes, countertop and sink were done.

It’s a nice day. I think I will go for a walk. I can’t believe it’s almost Thanksgiving! Oh yeah, thanks Matt, I just checked my email for the Zoom link from my therapist and saw you there. 🙂 Thanks, I almost did forget!

I think I am trying to write my journal before my day starts. 2pm, it’s going to be dark in 2 hours.

Every time I try to get out…

Heart colored pencils

I deleted Tinder two days after I downloaded it. Last week I stopped swiping Bumble Monday and deleted the app. Both apps said, “Are you sure? All data will also be deleted and cannot be recovered.” I said, Absolutely! and tapped the screen.

This weekend I started getting emails from both of them saying I have new matches or “someone is interested in you” etc… I thought, they are relentless.

Sunday I got an email from Bumble saying someone has sent me a message, click her to see who.

Later, the same thing from Tinder. I got curious and clicked Tinder. It brought me to their website. There was my account complete as if I never left. And I did have a message. I clicked Bumble, same thing! I never visited their website. I downloaded the apps from the appstore. Also, before I deleted the apps, I unmatched with anyone I had talked with. Well, here they all are with the conversations saved. I ignored them.WTF? I figured the messages I had were from robots and I am bored and send some replies like they are real to see what response I get. No! Not robots! I start receiving answers that correspond to my messages. How the hell is this happening? It’s almost midnight on a Sunday. The first woman wrote in her profile if you talk to me be prepared to meet IRL within a week, bonus if you want to spend the day on the beach. I asked her what keeps her up so late and she said she is on her way home from Six Flags. What the fuck? This bitch is driving down the highway at night on her phone. I’m too fucked up. I don’t mean drunk, I’m just fucked in the head. I want to see where this goes. I said the same thing I said to someone last week. That sounds great! I can’t wait to hear all about it… She asked if I would like to arrange a meeting? I told her I live near the beach but it’s only 50 degrees outside. She asked, where would you like to meet? I was two seconds from typing, My place? Hit the fucking brakes! I look at her picture it’s her dressed conservatively with her arm around someone in a Tweety Bird costume at fucking DisneyLand!

I’m not doing this. Unmatch. Last Thursday I had to tell the woman I hooked up with last weekend, I’m sorry, I think you are looking for more out of this than I am. She said oh, no, no, no, I’m not. She was all googly eyed when she left my place last week. I didn’t want to get into a big discussion about it so I told her I have something going on with a family member and I can’t talk about it. Which is actually true. She said she understands, family comes first. Okay, thank you. (phew) Oh no, a couple hours later… Let me know if you want to talk or even just cuddle. I just said no two different ways. I typed. TY. Later, What are you doing Friday night? I can pick up some Chinese food and do [all kinds of stuff I would like done to me, but that is what got me into this mess] I didn’t make any overtures when I met her. It was all playful banter. No mention of any kind of relationship. I don’t do that to women. My profile is one long joke. I made up some excuse.

But now I have a message on Bumble, there is the number 1 on the browser tab. I look at her profile, it says, If you voted for Biden, think masks work or have been vaccinated with the experiment…swipe left. Unmatch!

Done, time to write about it, right? Oh no! The number 2 is on the Tinder tab! Two more messages, one is from a woman her profile says she is pansexual, bisexual, etc.. She just says, Hi. Women who Identify pansexual have never had an interest in me. But I typed, I’m laughing because you said your favorite band is U2 and I am hoping it was a joke…. She said it was her most toxic trait. I said, my most toxic trait is knowing enough to know I’m toxic. End of conversation.

The next woman is beautiful, her age isn’t posted, maybe 35, I read her profile and it’s about finding a man to celebrate the glory of god and getting married. That is a summary of 3 long paragraphs. But at the bottom it says, Godly sex would be hot! With 3 fire emojis. I don’t know what the hell is going on. I asked her what keeps her up so late swiping on a Sunday night. She said she was journaling about her recent experiences with the lord and decided to do a few swipes and something in u made me swipe right. Okay, that makes sense after midnight on a hookup app.

Alright, I gotta write about this! Not yet! A woman the app says she is 2,000 miles away, okay, scammer. But there is a long profile. She owns a business in Connecticut but is visiting family in the DR. She is looking to get married. Close the apps.

I don’t get it. I’ve been on dating sites before. I understand Bumble is designed for the woman to make the first contact. But I”m no sex symbol. Women never contact me first. Half the time I don’t get an answer when I send the first message. I send good messages too. I’m not like hey babe, wanna hook up? Whatever. I lost my two girlfriends last spring and told myself not to get on dating sites because I go out of control. I stayed off the sites all summer until I got the urge, hooked up and immediately fucked up. I talked in a smart meeting and they told me to Join Bumble. I said hooking up online and drinking is my problem. Oh no, Bumble isn’t a hook up app. It’s for people looking for things to do. I wasn’t going to do it but I thought how much trouble could I get into on an app where the woman has to message first? How many women are actually going to message me? Apparently all of them!

I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do? Cancel my internet connection? Can you ever leave these sites? When I deleted them they were like, are you sure? You are giving up your only chance. I said, hell yeah and hit the X.

I deleted at least 10 emails from Tinder and Bumble that said I had new matches. Because I can’t be on these sites. Plus I figured if I clicked it would say for only X amount of dollars you can restore your data or some shit. Then I got emails saying I had new messages and I had to know what was going on. I googled to see if they are owned by the same company. It said Bumble was started by a woman who “says” she created Tinder. I don’t know. They are exactly the same sites except different colors.

My friggin’ life is like Seinfeld. What is the show about? It’s about nothing! Nothing? Well, something happens… No! Nothing happens! Then everything happens.

That’s me. Sunday night football ends, I’m on the computer listening to music, couple people posted on WP, I”m gonna go in the bedroom and watch tv. BOOM! It’s 3am. Good thing I didn’t get drunk. I’d probably be banging DisneyLand girl instead of typing this.

[Publish]

Kenny Who?

Heart colored pencils

“We’ve got tonight
Who needs tomorrow?
We’ve got tonight, babe
Why don’t you stay?

“We’ve got tonight” Kenny Rogers and Sheana Easton

Done gone and fucked up again! I’m telling you, when that dude was fucking with me yesterday, other people in the meeting were telling me to join Bumble. I wasn’t looking for dating advice. I told hem the reason I relapsed was because I first got laid and then got drunk.

I didn’t want to join any dating sites but especially not Bumble. I’m supposed to sit there and wait for women to send me messages? Okay? I can see that happening. But I thought about all the women complaining about regular dating sites. They get 300 “hey, babe, you dtf?” messages a night. That is why they never even see my thought out message. These women are all saying they want a serious relationship and sick of the bullshit and so am I. But don’t lie to yourself, everyone is willing to hook up.

So I join this dating site where I am not allowed to send a message to a woman even if she swipes right. Nothing I can do except hope she sends a message. But it makes sense to me. I fit into this site. I’m not one of those assholes. (Actually I am but I’m not an idiot.) But I got a swipe left face. I need words to get me through. There is no room for that. But no, I took a stupid selfie grinning like an idiot and figured out how to get myself across without a profile. Three word user name: BoringOldBill.

Fill out the info, forget about it. What happens? I start getting messages! From real people. Not many, but I didn’t swipe many. High percentage of return! They all say, I bet you’re not boring! I have several answers in my back pocket for that question. Not many matches. But three. Only two sent me messages. And one has only 24 hours to make up her mind. I know she liked me but still, I can’t send her a message. I don’t care. I feel great about this!

I’m just sitting here and women are liking me and sending messages. Because I’m not one of those guys, right? I’m not that much of a stud but someone takes an interest in me and you won’t believe, I don’t believe, (although, I know it) I am a fascinating conversationalist. I’m talking to this woman I don’t even know if I am interested in but she is sure interested in me! All I did was write the simplest fucking profile.

She says she is looking for serious relationship in her profile but from the beginning I was anything but serious. I kept the LOL’s rolling. I know what to do. Something about the weather and I knew she was may age so I screwed up the word’s to the Kenny Roger’s song on purpose. Asking, Is this even a song? She googled it. I blamed her for putting the words in my head. I’m fucking two seconds into my way to hooking up tomorrow! How do I know? I don’t know? How do you know? I hate that fucking song. She is a woman 10 years older than me, I know she loves that song! How do I know? I’m not even trying to do this. I’m trying to make jokes.

Now she is really interested and she is challenging me to do my best. My best what? I’m sitting here on a Friday night doing what I do best. I’m ten moves ahead. Don’t get me wrong. I’m only doing this shit because I like her. She doesn’t know how good I am.

Out of the blue she wants to meet. But can’t directly ask. I know how to flirt around it. I make her invite herself. Square beach pizza and cannoli’s after she meets with her sister. Suddenly her sister is not so important. I know. I know I am important. I know what we are doing.

She wants to me to call her on the phone and we talk for hours. She tells me it is the first time she has met someone online and talked on the phone and made plans to meet the next day. Well, she has never met me before. Finally she hangs up. I plug my phone in to charge and she texts me!

Four in the morning, we are still talking. She went from we might chat to she might meet for pizza to she wants me to hold her in my arms! She can’t wait for tomorrow but she doesn’t want to go to sleep. Then a definitely stated end plan! I didn’t suggest it. I just played along. I’m not playing her. I spent this much time talking to her because I have fun talking to her.

She is forgetting about lunch with her sister she used as an excuse but not really it was a round about way to ask when I am free Saturday afternoon. 4am. I know I am up but what the hell, she said good night 4 hours ago!

I’m a fucking sicko. All I had to do was plant that song in her head. I want to go to bed. She is still texting me.We can’t meet until tomorrow afternoon.

(Saturday, that was then this is now) She texted me at 9am. She cancelled lunch with her sister and can come over earlier. (What???) Okay, sure. I’m waiting for her to get ready and my phone is blowing up! This must be a scam…But no! These are normal looking everyday women. They all want to talk. Every other dating site 9 times out of 10 if I’m not dead serious or I say one thing slightly off color it is the end of the conversation. I would 9 times out of ten I never get an answer. Now I’m just sitting here. They limit your swipes to I think 20 a day. That is more than enough. I can’t keep track of the 7 women I started talking this morning. My profile definitely indicates I am irreverent. They give you a few prompt questions if you want to fill them out. I chose, My perfect first date: “Meeting for iced coffee so I don’t get burnt when you throw it in my face.” What is my plan for the zombie apocalypse? “Run faster than you!” We may get along if you find this funny: “Q. Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? A. Because they are so good at it.”

Almost all the profiles I have read the women say they are looking for a serious relationship but they don’t seem to mind I am completely off the wall. I had to tell them I was leaving for the day so they would stop sending me messages.

I told them at the meeting online dating was a former drinking activity and a trigger. They said oh no, it’s for people looking for new friends and things to do. Okay. Sound about right. Why did I just get laid on the second day? I am keeping it under control. When I was on Tinder years ago when it was still real and the wild, wild west I went overboard. I was texting 4 women with a different variations of the name Christine. Once I accidentally texted the wrong one and that is how I ended up getting laid.

What the hell. One girl who doesn’t look like she would have a problem getting dates was keeping my updated all day. “going out with friends”, “(something)”, and just now, “I’m heading home now, I’ll text you when I get there, if you are still awake.” I said, “That should be easy, I never sleep. Thanks for the warning though. :)”

I’m purposely turning off notifications because they were non stop. I am not that big into texting. I understand that is what everyone does now and it is a necessary evil but can I eat a sandwich?

They don’t look desperate. They are not supermodels but they are pretty. They are well educated. I’m just some old ugly dude with bad jokes. I can’t be doing this but WTF? Maybe it is because I’m new. I think it may also help that I say, I didn’t understand how this site was going to work but then I figured it was for women who were tired of getting 300 “hey u up, dtf?” messaged a night. That is usually a good ice breaker.

I met A– on POF and saw her regularly for 3 years. It was 2am and I sent a message, “What are you doing up so late? Reading through all the messages from the perverts? That’s okay, this pervert can wait.” She answered me right away.

Tainted Love

Heart colored pencils

“Don’t touch me, please
I cannot stand the way you tease
I love you though you hurt me so
Now I’m gonna pack my things and go”

“Tainted Love” Soft Cell, I prefer Marilyn Manson

Done gone and fucked up again! It’s still happening. I swore off meeting people online and what did I do last night? Oh yeah… You guessed it. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m doing it! I stopped cause I kept getting catfished by guys and they’re not even good at catfishing… Some of them send a message pretending to be a woman and their email is their real name, like “Justin Jones” or something. Sometimes they send you pictures and I google image search them and they are from some Mexican porn site. I’m so bored I play along like I believe them. It just got so stupid. I would go online and these guys are waiting to mess with me.

So what am I doing back online? I know what I’m doing… I’m looking at the fucking calendar and it’s almost November! I know what I’m doing. I really don’t want to sit around all winter watching repeats of “Chopped” on the Food Network. I know that is Black and White and I am leaving myself no freedom of choice, but what the fuck? But 10pm on a Monday? Here I go again. What exactly am I expecting to happen? This site gives me just enough of a tease to give it a chance. But, seriously, last time I wrote about it was a year ago (winter approaching) when I had my dream come true for one day. I’m too old for this shit! I know the real reason. Last year wasn’t my dream come true. My dream come true was three years ago when I met T—- and A—-. Every guy’s fantasy is to have a threesome with two women… But on a regular basis for 3 years? They disappeared this summer. Poof!

There I am, Monday night. I’m thinking I’m so stupid, I’m getting offline right now. Then I get an email. But ten minutes? Too good to be true! She sent a picture but seriously? This hot woman is super interested in me and my lame attempt to get laid? I searched her picture and it wasn’t online but I’ve had that before. Still… She’s talking like she is down the street from me. Whatever… Bored… But wondering? Talking, starting to believe her, nothing too explicit but we are both there too hook up. I said something like, Are you asking me to invite you over right now? She said, no, but maybe coffee tomorrow. Alright, I am talking to a real person. Sorry if I was too forward, coffee sounds great.

Nothing… Then an email from “some hung young one”, saying, Don’t be silly, of course I want to meet you! You know I want to suck that D….! Like we been talking all along. Like what the fuck! I just started to believe she might be real and now it’s a guy using two email addresses. I am an idiot! Told him to fuck off and signed off. Whatever… Red Sox won.. Go to bed. Good one! When is the last time you slept?

An hour later she sends another email with her phone number saying text her but I don’t believe it cause I’ve been sent phone numbers before thinking they are real and all I say is “Hi, you gave me your number online” and it’s is someone saying sorry I broke up with my boyfriend and he is giving out my phone number. Funny story I have already written. The guy I used to buy dope from seemed like he was really cool and friendly until his girlfriend broke up with him and he put her real name Facebook page online pretending it was her looking for some D. Then I randomly hooked up with her on the same site a month later! Like, I never, never, would have thought.

Now I believe she is real cause I looked up her number and it was her email name but she is asking me all these crazy questions like I am a scam. Yeah, I’m posing as a horny guy on Monday night. We figured it out and had a good text convo, Nothing sexual, so I’m thinking she doesn’t do this much maybe. she is getting to know me.. I have no problem with it. I’m too old to be trying to hookup with everyone. We had a lot in common.But she is telling me she has to pick up her son, it’s 2am and bring him to a Doctor at 9am. Whatever? Still she’s not messing with my head now.

But meeting for “coffee” was slowly turning into, I like to dress sexy… oh yeah? Normal conversation… High heels ant thigh highs… Please stop, I live alone and it is 4am… Back to favorite music, favorite bands, she turned me on to Seether. I couldn’t believe I never paid attention to themone way or the other.

All non-sequitors. She keeps dropping sex, in between saying she get’s really wet, like okay, so does everyone. But saying she is really hard to orgasm. I don’t know, I don’t brag I’m a stud but I know my way around the body. But she says it only happens with a man who uses his hands. What? I know to use hands but there are better ways. Now I’m thinking maybe I’m not the guy she is looking for? Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing? But she is really grooving on me. Still talking. Then she starts sending the pictures… Didn’t I tell you not to do this to me? But she asks, Do you promise to be there after my son’s appointment tomorrow? Yeah, bet your ass! But could you not do this to me at 5am? She says great! How old are you? I tell her the truth because I look older and there is no point in lying. She tells me, good, I am 58… The fuck?!!! No way! Sends me another picture… Age is truly just a number. The picture…The whole time talking her and the previous pictures and conversations, I thought maybe 40, 45? Not older than me! I still don’t believe it, She better not be sending me 20 year old pictures. I zoom in on her face and yeah, she’s got some eye lines, a little hook on the corner of her mouth, looks right… But she is fucking rocking that body! I said, Yes, you are truly smoking hot! I’m imagining all kind of shit but it’ 6am and she fell asleep and none of this is going to happen.

I go to sleep. Do you think this is the end of the story? Oh no! I said, I guess I am not going to sleep. She didn’t answer. I’m still like, 99 percent sure. Tried to sleep but who are we kidding? Kinda fell asleep like 7:30, 8am, I didn’t set my alarm but my phone rang at 9am. A New Jersey number!!! It’s true! It’s her! Noooo! She used to live in New Jersey, she has a 603 number like me, New Hampshire. I’m not picking up it. She said 9am, it’s a New Jersey number, I’m answering! I was right, bullshit, fake caller ID. But the badge falls away and underneath is a text from her! “My son’s appointment was cancelled, call me when you wake up!” Whaaaaat? Fucking right I called her! (Am I crazy or are you crazy?) She answered, first ring. She didn’t think the New Jersey call was that amazing, but come on. (If you read me before you may think I’m delusional but you know I’m not, right? Could you make this shit up?)

She told me she usually needs some coffee and a shower, yes I agree… I think I will go get a coffee. Okay, call me back. I call back. Would you like me to come down now or later today? What? Is this an option? Do you think I have a choice? I’ve been dreaming about you since you said thigh highs. The only time I wasn’t dreaming about you was when I was sleeping! But you know me, I played it cool. You know I want you right now, but I don’t want you to rush. Okay, text me your address and I will call when I am leaving. Okay? The stars are lining up, I guess? Not really! The whole summer I’ve been outside. My fucking place is trashed! I can take a shower but this is not presentable. I feel like I threw a hook in the ocean, not expecting to catch the big fish! Now it’s on he line.

Funny because I remember leaving a comment on someone’s blog yesterday about feeling overwhelmed, saying I try to pick the easiest thing and say if I only do that today I will be happy and it usually snowballs and I end up doing a lot more. Only I haven’t been taking my own advice! Do you know another source of motivation? Pussy! I got that coffee and started up fast! I was surprised how fast it went, I didn’t do a deep clean but looking like I am presentable. I can’t believe I never got this started before.

I know what you are thinking [Interruption: You all know the rules of online dating, right? Meet in public, tell a friend, etc.. Do you know how many women I have told I am on disability for schizo and they come to my door with no worries, middle of the night? I don’t know, it’s a lot, a lot, maybe you can tell me how many? Granted, some of them are schizo, but they are the best ones. But mostly, ordinary average people… Your next door neighbor! Can you imagine your neighbor coming to visit me at 3am? Maybe she already has?] Is that what you were thinking?

I got a coffee, I did it all, I look like above a dullard, but I can’t settle down. She texted she was leaving when? I got time to do a meditation… No… The phone rings! She is here! (That is what I liked, she talks on the phone) I have to go down three floors to let her in, I hustle cause I don’t like to leave anyone standing there. Took the stairs cause they are faster than the elevator. Before I turn the corner I remember to smile. Keep smiling. There she is starting down the first step. She said she was not dressing special cause it’s morning/noon, me too, jeans and t-shirt. Turns out, I’m under-dressed! She has style! Fuck! I’m worried, Old? What? Better than her picture! Now I know I’m not pretty, all I have is words. But fucking big smile, hug, kiss on the lips even though I gave the slight option of turning my head a bit. We all know where this is going!

She is one sexy bitch! No way is this going to work… Upstairs. She’s raving about my place, (she loves the coffee table I found by the dumpster. It is pretty nice, that’ is why I carried it’s 200 pound ass up the stairs.) But we’re on the couch forever. Talking cats, kids, cats, kids, she is just trying to make a pleasant exit, right? But then, Mind if I dab? Okay, heard about it, never seen it, go ahead. She pulls out the apparatus, explains it… No thanks, cause me anxiety. Now, we are vibing, we have a little connection, we both like human names for our pets. We both had a lot of really good ones. She keeps pulling videos on her phone, Songs I likebut never heard before. Then, Amy Winehouse. I never knew she played guitar with a horn ensemble before she got big? Not into her before but now I think. (Okay, get to the good part?)

(The good part) I’m thinking, sometimes I’m slow, she is out of my league but we have a lot in common (more than pets) Why am I worried? I think she’s just talking to be polite but she’s been talking for a while and still sitting there, I put my hand on her thigh and everything changed. Maybe she was worrying the same? I don’t know? Much friendlier. This is encouraging. Now we’re talking sex, exploring ideas, she asks me again if I am into the “lifestyle” I know what she means but play dumb… she’s talking, asking me questions, no, I’m not into the “lifestyle”. But fucked up shit has been going on in my “lifestyle’. (never mind that, we are headed in the right direction, I think) She is into some shit. I tell her I am straight up hard sex. Good sex, just sex. She was holding back but asking me leading questions. I told her the truth. The wildest I have done is this couple showed up in the early hours and I banged the guy’s wife in the back seat while he watched from the front. (Not really sure, but maybe) I might have been turned on by being watched? The best part was his wife was hot! Really hot! Why wasn’t he fucking her? I don’t know, lot of guys have sent me pics of their wives, asked if I want to bang their wives and when I ask, have you talked to your wife aboutt this? No. End of conversation.

I’m going on too long, I ask her what she likes and she pulls my thumbs below her pubic bone and right there. Again, only fingers. “Is that my g-spot?”, I don’t think so, i dont’ think so either itt’s my cervix. Alright, I’ve heard this once before but my dick hit it. But she says no. Only hands. She needs a man who is good with his hands. Now I’m intimidated, but this is heading straight to my bedroom. Still, she said it is long time to orgasm and only fingers? Not me? \

(Okay, good part) What ever I was doing, I was doing right and I was doing it right away. Like 20 seconds! I have met many women who say, I warn you, I am a squirter so you might need a towel, ha ha, But then they do it and it’s not much. Different story today! All she said was she gets very wet and it takes a long time. (am I getting too graphic?) Fucking wet was an understatement! Fucking Niagara Falls! Apparently I know exactly what she needs. I can feel it. I don’t know, It wasn’t her cervix. My fingers are not that long! She asked, where is my g-spot, I said, right here, Nope, nothing… I don’t care, I got back to touching her cervix which I know I can’t reach but there is something there. It’s a big lump of erectile tissue and all I knew what that was all about, I know the relation between a man’s erectile tissue and a woman’s. Whatever? I’m no Dr. Kinsey but it was every 20 seconds and every 20 seconds and every 20 seconds! Very wet? I’m cupping my hand, it’s full of liquid and it’s overflowing. [omit some x-rated parts, and some more x-rated parts] Now, 4 hours later, she’s still fucking doing it! Every 20 seconds, I’m just curious if it’s ever going to stop?! No! It never stopped!

(Had enough yet?) So what? Where are we? Oh yeah, coffee… We had lot’s of coffee! Four hours later, I’ve done everything I imagined and more, I’m worn out! My head is spinning, my body is buzzing, I’m totally sober and I’m staggering around, slurring my words. I know I haven’t slept but you know? Maybe you don’t. I put myself aside, I was done, but she wasn’t, I wanted to see where this goes. Personally I’m done but I want to see where it goes. I’m not really done. I am fucking super turned on I know I make people feel good, but this good??? But she’s getting up and saying, wow, your blanket is wet! Everywhere I touch, I’m sorry… No, thank you! This is fucking great! I said I was intimidated before and she was confused. She said never this much! I am not that fucking good?

Should I publish this? (you know I will) Look! Look! It’s 4am again! What am I doing all night. I’m sitting here listening to Marilyn Manson covers. I didn’t know he had like a hundred. And I’m wondering cuz I’m not really her type. She tested me out. I think she had a guy in mind to have a mmf with but I told her it’s not my thing. I do enjoy being watched. But I don’t want touching.

I keep repeating myself. She laughed about the blanket being wet. I texted her after I pulled it off the bed, “Where do I send the bill for the blankets, sheets, mattress, box spring and carpet I have to replace. Haha. But I am serious, half my bedroom is flooded with pussy juice!

N’haiku meet you!

Heart colored pencils

How did I ever forget this story? It starts out like most of my best stories. I was minding my own business at 2am clicking through OkStupid when I saw a woman from Salem, Ma. (You know? The Witch City?) I normally try to come up with something original to say in a first message but when I see Salem, I can’t help myself. I usually ask, “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” I know it’s lame but it cracks me up and sometimes I would get some interesting responses. Good thing I thought twice. I was reading through her interests and one of them was Haiku. What? Who likes Haiku? I remember they made us write it in elementary school and could not figure out what the hell it had to do with anything. It made no sense. Now I am glad they did!

I sent a well thought out poem in the correct structure. 5-7-5 syllables. (I really wish I had a transcript of this because I was performing above my level) She answered in less than a minute with one of her own. Well, okay… Now we were having a conversation in Haiku and apparently making sense. I know. Sounds pretty boring but I think you know where my stories usually go. It went. I started getting suggestive, she was receptive, It was fun! Nothing dirty. Very soft core, erotica but it was hot. I didn’t know I could flow with such tight restrictions but we were non stop texting. The only pauses were in how long it took to type the words. I did break the rules once. To send my address.

Has anyone else ever done this? No? Just me?

Rumble in Brighton Tonight

Heart colored pencils

“Well, there ain’t a man left standing
So let’s all go get a beer”

“Rumble in Brighton” Stray Cats

I saw her on OkStupid around 2am back when it was an actual useful site. I think she was the only other person online at the time. I sent her some stupid message about the Stray Cats because it said she lived in Brighton (Boston). She said, “Who?” I went back and checked her age. She’s young, but not that young… right? “Never mind.” She told me she only answered me because I said I was an atheist. “No I didn’t.”, “It’s on your profile.” Now I had to go check myself. I guess they ask you when you sign up but I didn’t know other people could see it. Maybe I should have checked “Other.”

I asked what was going on in Boston tonight. She said she didn’t know, she’s in Virginia. Okay? What’s going on in Virginia tonight. She said she was at an “Atheist Retreat”. Okay, I’ll bite. What’s that? Apparently it’s where a bunch of people get real drunk and make fun of people who believe in god. That’s pretty hardcore. I like the get real drunk part but I don’t care who you believe in. Sounds as religious as the religions you make fun of. I’m more like Atheist 2.0. Yeah, There’s no god. So what?

I said it must be a great time if she’s on her phone talking to some dude back in NH. Yeah, most of them are passed out. Lightweights. I made some jokes and she made some back. Oh good at least we weren’t going to talk about god all night. We kept each other laughing for a couple hours, then I figure she passed out. I don’t know. I didn’t care. I forgot about it.

The next week I got a message with her phone number. I’m trying to figure out who the hell she was. Oh yeah, Brighton. I texted her. I got nothing going on. she really did live in Brighton. I told her I can’t get there anyway, so… She said she didn’t care, she thought I was funny. She was funny too. Okay.

I think we texted about a week. Not too much. She was good to talk to but she kept putting herself down. Not in a self deprecating humor kind of way. She was being serious. I don’t know what to say. Is she fishing for compliments? Am I supposed to make her feel better? I don’t even know this chick. I got my own fucking problems, I can’t be your emotional support human.

I think it was next Friday afternoon. She said she’s at a bar. I thought she was a fun drunk but now she was getting depressing. I didn’t know how long am I supposed to talk to someone I’m never going to meet? She started bitching about never having any money. I said, what do you expect? You’re fucking working at Newbury Comics to pay $3000 a month for a shithole studio apartment in the city and eating $20 sandwiches from Whole Foods on your lunch break. I can’t afford to be a hipster either. I guess she thought that was really funny? Later on she texted me a picture. Of course you’re drinking 10 dollar cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon at a “Dive” Bar. You’re too fucking funny.

She texted me again later. Not too late. Around ten. I want you to come see me. You are fucking drunk. How am I supposed to get to Boston? She looked up the friggin’ train schedule and map! She told me the station is only 5 miles away from my house. Whaa??? It’s only $60. Okay, I’ll just call a cab and hop on the train. She kept on about it. There’s no way. Even if I did I’ll end up lost on the streets Boston. Or I’ll be banging on your door and you’ll be passed out drunk. Then she started, if you really liked me you would do it. She was serious! I’m thinking, what is this chick? 12 years old? She kept going. You’re high. Like you? I don’t even fucking know you. I told her to leave the door unlocked I’ll be down in a couple hours. Christ, we only texted for a week, it’s not like I was making overtures.

She didn’t text me the next day. God, I’m glad that’s over. And women won’t talk to me when I tell them why I’m on disability?

Next Friday…. Oh no, it’s not over. My phone buzzed. Are you ready to apologize? I don’t know what the fuck is going on… For what? She told me… She was fucking serious! I give up. Okay, I’m sorry, let me make it up to you. Just come up here and see me. You know I can’t. Yes you can. I’m working tonight. So, take the night off. I can’t. Yes you can. Just take the T to the bus station. I’ll pay for your ticket. I can’t do it. If you really liked me you would.

Now it was over.