All articles filed in Martini

I was tipsy and determined to get it in.

The last time I saw him we ended that night at a 24/7 diner, eating brunch at 2 a.m. Ravenous we had everything from steak and eggs, sides of bacon, pancakes, disco fries, beef skitters…I switched between martini’s and mimosas, interrogating our waiter.

“Sir, sir, do you think my eyes are wide set or average? Because look…” Moving my fingers across my face to demonstrate measurements. This man had no idea what I was talking about.
“See I think they are wide set by a smidge, but I really just can’t tell.”
At this point we both started laughing so hard. Poor man with a smile plastered on his face, nodding along. I don’t think he spoke that much english and I was clearly drunk and stoned. It truly was a pleasant evening, filled with laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt, leaving you with an everlasting joy that rolls into the next day. Proclamations were made:

“Fuck Soul Plane and fuck Kevin Hart for that. Aerodynamically that plane would never take off, it makes no sense,” I said vehemently. “Look at the front of that plane! It’s too big. I felt like that when the movie came out, I feel like that now.”
“I wish I knew you as a kid, you just never know what you’re gonna say next. I can only imagine when you had no filter.”

As a healer, I believed god put me in this mans path to do just that. To help him transition to a more positive space. When my friend sent congrats gifs on getting it, I told her it ended up being a therapy session. So I was determined on this night.

Don’t get me wrong this man wasn’t about shit, he lied, he omitted, he was a felon and a plethora of other things. However, he was also chiseled, hot and looked damn good in boxer briefs. I wanted to be ravished and dominated, not get married.

He sensed this, so he tried to make me jealous by saying he’d been with other women since his break up. “You’re not my boyfriend, I don’t care, take your clothes off.” He was so insecure, berating himself about his imaginary small penis, saying he had a complex. Just so much talking and not enough action. His penis wasn’t small and if this was him out of shape…I mean he must have had body dysmorphia.

I wanted to keep going after round one, but he was determined to make these drugs deals, asking if I wanted to come. He made more than enough to transition into a different line of work. He loved the lifestyle, he loved chaos and above all else he loved drama.

I saw all the red flags…this man was off… this became very apparent on our last date.