So, Amanda Knox is free. I’m sure a lot of people were very happy to hear this, but none more than Wendy. A few weeks ago, during some pillow talk, she sort of blurted out a fantasy of having a our own three-way with Amanda Knox, should Knox ever go free. While hooking up with an attractive, freshly released felon does sound inviting, not knowing whether or not she really did go all Helter Skelter is enough to curb this mans appetite. Plus, one crazy broad at a time, please.
I met Wendy about five weekends ago. Mike and I had gone to The Original Pancake House for breakfast before he supposed to meet some people at Lucky Strike. When he went bowling and I went over to Washington Square Park to watch what I thought was going to be some type of dog and frisbee show, but I must have gone to the wrong park, because the only action going on was some hot nannies and a few joggers. So, I sat down and waited to see what might turn up. To make a long story short, Wendy was one of the joggers, we got to talking at the drinking fountain, we hooked up for lunch and had a very casual affair for about a month. But, we’ve since broken it off. Ok, we didn’t, but I did.
Getting a good read on people can be traced back to being single for all but eleven months of my adult life, being in sales and from having a cop as a father. After maybe two hours, my read on her was that she had daddy issues, thus prone to being an overachiever and to having anger-management issues. No big deal. Translated into Guy Speak, Wendy would be a great time in the sack for a month and then I’d have to either get a new phone number or dig a hole.
In this scenario, its best to run Play 23. All she needed to know was my first name and my cell phone number. Keep it as casual as possible, without looking like I’m only there for the sex. Only have sex at her place, with no sleepovers. Do not for any reason let her find out where I live, work or play.
I know a lot of women will read this and think I’m an asshole, but this works both ways. I’ve had it happen to me, but I didn’t care. Most guys don’t. Oh, you wanna have dinner once a week and lunch/brunch on the weekend, go back to my place, boink me, then leave? Sure. You know, it’s not like I was leaving money on her nightstand.
Call me a pig if you want, but my number one priority was networking, researching and finding a new job. Not spooning ‘till eleven am on a Saturday morning or exploring each others hearts. Despite this, I am a gentleman. I open doors, I compliment new haircuts/hairstyles, nails, perfume, outfits. I listen, I communicate, I always remember birthdays, favorite drinks, songs and movies, yada, yada. In fact, I can go as far to say that I’ve gone #2 at a woman’s apartment only twice in my adult life. I just don’t like the idea of leaving my stink in a woman’s home. But I do have to admit that one of those times was after an ex had fallen asleep after the break up sex, and I left a huge, nasty dump in her toilet. She had cheated on me and I also knew I wasn’t going to get paid back the $800 she had borrowed five days earlier. I could have wet her bed and taken her dog for a ride out to the country, but I didn’t.
Anyway, Wendy comes from money (her great-grand dad had something to do with inventing the grip for golf clubs, or something like that). And while she does have a job of sorts as an art promoter, she lives off a trust fund. Which must be sufficient, because she owns a place in Old Town and travels quite a bit.
The reasons I broke it off with her may sound petty to some people, but they were good enough for me. And, again, you’re going to think I’m a pig at first, but you’re going to think otherwise once you let it sink in for a few hours.
Week 1: It’s not even October and she’s talking about us going skiing in January.
Week 2 and forward: She always wants to kiss during sex. No matter how our bodies are contoured, she has to have her lips on mine.
Week 2: Already calling me Honey and Babe
Week 2: Is super pissed when I put my arm around the waitress/cashier at La Cebollita. I’ve been going there for a long time and I know it’s her birthday.
Week 3: She is traveling and we only have lunch once, so only a slim chance to accumulate negative points
Week 4: She answered my cell phone
Week 4: Stuck her finger in my ass in the middle of some hot sex.
Week 5 and the final straw: Calls me three times at my job. She only knew where my job was because a friend of hers works in the same building. (This and other creepy little things leads me to believe that an underground network of crazy chicks exists in this town)
I know I should have dropped her the moment I realized that she had to maintain a lip-lock during sex and started in with the Honey/Babe, but she’s got the endurance of a pack mule and quite honestly, she’s the best dirty talker I’ve ever been around.
I ended it Monday after work and she’s traveling again this week, so I know I’m safe and will only have to screen my calls. But if I get a package from UPS, you can bet I’ll have it x-rayed before opening it.