I usually stick to my dating rules, but for some reason I slipped up this evening and allowed Shawn, with his pretty self come up to my apartment, and now I’m sitting here on the edge of the couch wondering when, if ever, he’s going to get out. I knew something was up when he pulled his car in front of my building and turned off the engine. I should’ve just said good bye and jumped out of the car, but I sat there for a second too long, which gave Shawn just enough time to ask me if he could come in and use my bathroom. Damn! I rolled my eyes as I reached for the door handle, thinking to myself can’t you hold it until you get back to your own apartment? But Shawn got to squirming and squenching his knees together like some three-year-old child who was about to piss all on

He hesitated a bit, then asked and reached out his arms.” Can I at least have a good night hug?” I paused for a second, then shrugged my shoulders. What the heck, it’s just a hug. Big mistake. I swear I’ve been fucking up all night. Just as I was about to let him go, he whispered softly in my ear and said, “I know you’re tired, but I’ll only take five minutes.”

I don’t know why I didn’t tell him that, I don’t know what was wrong with me. Instead I just stomped out and into my room, and though myself on to my bed. I through my head into my pillow and wondered where did I go wrong. Well I’m not ugly, that’s for sure. I have great legs, I mean I run three times a week. I watch what I eat. I never have to worry about tracks slipping or braids falling out because I have nice, healthy, shoulder length hair. My skin is nicely tanned and I hardly ever have pimples, except for the one that Shawn ever so gladly pointed out. I might be a little short but hey, I got all the right features forget him!

“Ssh,” he said and waved me off as he stared at my TV. Ssh, I thought to myself and eyed Shawn with a look that if he was paying me any attention, he would have jumped and ran for the door. Ssh? No I didn’t just get shushed in my own damn apartment. I felt the urge to walk over to him and slap in the back of his peanut head. But, instead I walked over to the coffee table, picked up a coaster, and threw it at him. “That’s for the soda,” I said and sat on the sofa across from him, wishing I’d aimed the coaster at his head. “Thanks, babe.” Babe? Did he just call me babe? Oh no it’s time for you to go nigro. Bye, adios, see ya when I see ya, you ain’t got to go home but you got to get the hell up out of here.

“Nice place you got here, Shannon,” he said walking through the living room checking out the scenery. Then he spotted my new leather recliner, and plopped his sloppy ass down. He tossed his leg over the arm of the chair, grabbed the remote off the table next to him, and made himself really comfortable. He’s got a lot of nerve I thought and squinted my eyes at him. No really, he’s got a lot of fucking nerve.

When I first was him jogging around the park I knew I had to meet him. He was jogging about ten feet in front of me. So all I did for about twenty minutes was watch his butt bounce and wondered what it might take for a little woman like me to get a piece of meat like that. I couldn’t catch up to him so I did the next best thing. I faked an ankle sprain, screamed, and hit the dirt. It was overly dramatic, but it worked, and Shawn stopped jogging and ran back to help me up. “Ooch, ouch, it hurts, it hurts,” I whimpered as he bent over my ankle, giving me the perfect opportunity to check out his perfectly perfect body. He was wearing a pair of biker shorts with a pair of running shorts over them and no shirt. The butt was tight, the abs were tighter, and the pecs were popping straight out at me like they knew me personally. I almost touched them until I remembered that I was supposed to be hurt so I went back to faking. “It hurts, it hurts.”

Some topics in this essay:
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