Friday, April 09, 2004

Pleased As Punch

That's what he said about my essay. He stopped by the bar I was at, where he and I had been on our second date. This bar has more people of color in it, making it feel like the Williamsburg I used to know in high school. At first he didn't want to come in. He stood by the window, smoking a cigarette and called me out to him. He was offended by the nasty voicemail I left on his voicemail saying that I didn't believe that he was working late and that he should come and see me.

"She got the procedure yesterday," he informed me. It's good to be in the know.
I asked if he went with her. He looked at me like I was crazy.
"She didn't want me with her. I called to see how she was and she told me she was in pain and didn't want to talk to me."
I wouldn't want to talk to him either.
He says he's done with her. I rolled my eyes when he told me this. I've heard it all before. He said he was serious before kissing me hard on the mouth.
He's such a good kisser, it's enough to make me almost forget. Almost.

I coaxed him inside by offering to buy him a drink. He politely greeted my friends and sat with me for a bit. We danced a little and he lamented how he couldn't take me home because he had his period. He actually compared what he says is a callous on his dick from jerking off to having your period. Personally knowing the other type of women he sleeps with, I wondered if it was only a callous he had down there.

He quickly left after his drink, buying an empanada from a guy outside the bar. I love the fact that someone can get an empanada outside a bar in Williamsburg in the middle of the night. We kissed again and he asked about my essay. I told him where it was up because he wanted to read it. I warned him that it wasn't favorable, he said he wanted to read it anyway.

Later as I was dancing in the lounge(I was nicknamed the sexy librarian), he left a message on my voicemail. He said he googled my name and read the essay and that it was great. He said I was a great writer and that I had a great style. He said he didn't understand why I wouldn't want him to read it. He was pleased as punch. He actually said that. Who the hell says pleased as punch?

In my cab home I told the whole story to my driver, and then I gave him the link to my essay.

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