I just had my first legitimate booty call.
Obviously, this was not the first late night call I had ever received, but it was the first that I both answered and accepted.
Sure, there are other evenings that probably technically landed in the booty call column; but, on those occasions, the dude had the integrity to mask his true intentions with a quick round or three of drinks out in the real world prior to laying it on thick.
At least he brought tacos this time? Before you nod in enabling support, let me add that these were no Tacos Por Favor or Pinches…these were (brace yourself) Del Taco. Insult. Injury. Sigh.
There was a 3 minute (This number would prove to be foreshadowing in events to come) pretense of Boardwalk Empire viewing. Literally. 3 minutes. And then, you know…
But usually, “you know” with this person is actually enjoyable. Like, for me. Like, he makes sure it’s enjoyable for me. Apparently, that’s a chapter they left out of the booty call handbook? In accepting his midnight call, had I unwittingly agreed to a 3 minute sex session, guaranteed to leave only one of us satisfied?
Cuddling? Sure. Conversation? Of course. Let’s keep this on the up and up here. Let me interject at this point to add that, two months ago, I thought this person and I actually might be dating. My ensuing confusion and need for closure/or validation were the damning impetuses for this new life low.
Most of the conversation involving his recent life activities featured other girls, of course – not girls with whom he was getting down (that would just be uncouth,) but I could safely assume he at least momentarily entertained the idea.
God, he’s SO DESIRABLE. I am SO LUCKY he’s here right now.
…
Perhaps the morning sex would be better.
It started out well…and ended quickly. How lucky for him that he was now content and able to sleep.
Must. Be. Nice.
Around 8:30am, he decided it was probably time for him to hit the road. Did he save a shred of my dignity by conjuring up some tragically unbreakable breakfast-interfering plans? Nope. No plans. Just done here.
Interesting. That makes two of us.
…
My stomach feels like Del Taco.