Double Back Flip

Manhattan's a funny place, not funny haha, no no, funny as in an endless cycle of stress, embarrassment, and fate goosing me at any chance it gets. My night started in the neighborhood, having lived in the East Village for 3 years I've been a bit of a downtown snob, but recently have decided to explore the unknown world of the Upper East filled with Prep school elitists, baby carriages (which I'm convinced are used as weapons in the streets or as caution, mother and baby crossing the street because the mothers always seem to go baby first into the intersection as they check for oncoming traffic), our elders, and the "I shoulda really stopped at the 5th drink y'all crowd... So as much as I said "no, no" to my local haunt tonight I headed there kicking and screaming (in my head of course because maybe I secretly wanted to go there for entertainment purposes only, because after all I'm convinced they grease the floors every night for the sole purpose of people slipping and falling to everyone's amusement).

I've passed the same man about 3 times already. He has the most inviting, friendly, and beautiful eyes, but I swear I've met him. Then I developed a crush, nothing but trouble. After all, I've sworn off dating for the last 4 months and apparently with the new year am feeling all fresh and so clean clean. He's staring, I'm being coy, blah, blah, blah, I won't bore you with the details. So what did I do? The dreadful friend approach ugh. I swore I knew him from somewhere, she thought she did too, which was probably due to the fact that all she wanted was a bit of male attention. The approach, the follow through, the embarrassment. For the first time in my life I realized that yes, the man that I have been coyly returning smiles to is a man whose bed I have visited. I have a sharp memory, but when it comes to a male whore (so obviously in disguise, however, the minute a man gives you his resume of the colleges he attended at our age- undisclosed- run far far away) he has no clue. And why is this? Because I am a prude so of course he didn't remember exactly who I was and what exactly happened that night. I distinctly remember hearing the most ridiculous reasoning of why I should've slept with him that night one year ago which was, and I quote, "You know, the last girl I dated long term slept with me on the first night..." smooth.

The conversation that continued after our little reunion was the most bizarre conversation I have ever had with a man and further solidified why I keep my goodies to myself until I completely trust and feel comfortable with a man. If only other women wouldn't ruin it for the rest of us. What happened to chivalry and old fashioned values? If I need to be pleasured I'll pleasure myself, no need to bow down to someone below me..... Brian, I'll never forget it. My brain is tired and I officially feel dumber from the 20 minute conversation I had with him, therefore my brain needs some time to come back to me, so for now- good night.....