Wacky Watercress
Some guys go to bars to pick up women. I went there to pick up stories. I have to make the distinction because my search for interesting stories had to be limited to men since the act of a man approaching a woman at a bar carried certain connotations which, irregardless of their truth, were unavoidable. Unfortunately my continual habit of talking to men without ever leaving with any of them created the impression that I was gay and simply very bad at picking up guys. The inevitable sexual interpretation of whatever action I took necessitated me moving from bar to bar to avoid anyone getting a lasting impression of me and trying to peg my actions into a narrowly defined category.
I was at a new bar tonight and after ordering my first drink I began to scan the bar for interesting looking guys. Another advantage of picking up stories rather than women is that interesting looking guys were much easier to come by than good looking women, and there was a lot less competition in trying to talk to them. Before I was able to make a move to go talk to a particularly intriguing looking man who sported appeared to be a flock of seagulls hair cut I experienced yet another benefit for being in the market for stories instead of women: a man with an interesting story is far more likely to come up and talk to you than a beautiful woman. As I was about to get off my stool and talk to the man with the fantastically bad hair cut a strong hand pushed me back down and spun me towards its owner.
“Jimmy!” the hands owner exclaimed.
“Excuse me?” I had no idea who this man was.
“Dude, you weren't goin' to leave with out sayin' anything were you? I haven't talked to you in a while and man....dude, do I have a story to tell you, I got kicked out of my apartment!”
I didn't know what the deal with this guy was. He was obviously drunk, at least drunk enough to mistake me from this Jimmy. Despite the case is mistaken identity I figured I would let him talk. What harm could there be in letting him think I was Jimmy? And besides, wasn't this what I came for just dropped onto my lap? I figured no matter what happened I would get an interesting story out of the night and so resolved to just listen.
“So I was living in a double room, two guys to one room. Now this normally this would be a problem since I couldn't get any privacy for any 'guy time'. But it was...s'all right 'cause I followed all the rules ya' gotta for masturbating when you have a roommate. I would wait for him to leave, locked both locks, closed the blinds....all that whatnot. I also never took off my pants or anything, I would just unbutton and unzip 'em in case I had to cover up quick. I turned down the sound and always deleted my history, I thought I did all I needed to so I wouldn't get caught.
About halfway into it my phone rang. I thought 'Shit! Who the hell could that be?' It was my mom and you cant ignore your mom, right? Besides she was supposed to call with info or something so I thought it might be important. So I decided to stop and answer the phone.
So I talk with my mom hoping it would be quick, right?. But then I remember this is my mom I was talking to and she will drone on for a good 20 mintues. I was quickly dragged into another one of my mom's shaggy dog stories. The particular story she happened to be telling me about involved our dog ruining a turkey dinner or something and it knocked over some gravy and spilled it everywhere and she didn't want to clean it up.
I sarcastically suggested that she 'get down on her hands and knees and lick up that sticky mess.' It was gravy after all. As soon as I finished sayin' that I heard a noise. It was sort of a choking, gasping, and retching all in one. I looked towards the source of the noise and saw my roommate standing in my doorway. I had been on the phone and had not heard him come in, just in time to witness me sitting with my pants unzipped, penis out and erect and in my hand, telling my mother to get on her hands and knees and lick up a sticky mess. I got frickin' kicked out of the apartment, got !black listed from the company, and had to fight off a lousy sexual harassment suit!”
Thinking I understood the point of his story finally, I quickly interjected “So what you are trying to tell me is that the context of a situation is important. You have me all that background so I would understand the context of the situation your roommate found you in and understood that although on the surface it would appear to be a sick and twisted perversion it was all just a weird coincidence. But your room mate lacked that context and thought you an incestuous pervert! If we wish to understand a situation we should suspend judgment until we know the context.”
“No.......I was just trying to say don't answer your phone while jacking off.”
I was at a new bar tonight and after ordering my first drink I began to scan the bar for interesting looking guys. Another advantage of picking up stories rather than women is that interesting looking guys were much easier to come by than good looking women, and there was a lot less competition in trying to talk to them. Before I was able to make a move to go talk to a particularly intriguing looking man who sported appeared to be a flock of seagulls hair cut I experienced yet another benefit for being in the market for stories instead of women: a man with an interesting story is far more likely to come up and talk to you than a beautiful woman. As I was about to get off my stool and talk to the man with the fantastically bad hair cut a strong hand pushed me back down and spun me towards its owner.
“Jimmy!” the hands owner exclaimed.
“Excuse me?” I had no idea who this man was.
“Dude, you weren't goin' to leave with out sayin' anything were you? I haven't talked to you in a while and man....dude, do I have a story to tell you, I got kicked out of my apartment!”
I didn't know what the deal with this guy was. He was obviously drunk, at least drunk enough to mistake me from this Jimmy. Despite the case is mistaken identity I figured I would let him talk. What harm could there be in letting him think I was Jimmy? And besides, wasn't this what I came for just dropped onto my lap? I figured no matter what happened I would get an interesting story out of the night and so resolved to just listen.
“So I was living in a double room, two guys to one room. Now this normally this would be a problem since I couldn't get any privacy for any 'guy time'. But it was...s'all right 'cause I followed all the rules ya' gotta for masturbating when you have a roommate. I would wait for him to leave, locked both locks, closed the blinds....all that whatnot. I also never took off my pants or anything, I would just unbutton and unzip 'em in case I had to cover up quick. I turned down the sound and always deleted my history, I thought I did all I needed to so I wouldn't get caught.
About halfway into it my phone rang. I thought 'Shit! Who the hell could that be?' It was my mom and you cant ignore your mom, right? Besides she was supposed to call with info or something so I thought it might be important. So I decided to stop and answer the phone.
So I talk with my mom hoping it would be quick, right?. But then I remember this is my mom I was talking to and she will drone on for a good 20 mintues. I was quickly dragged into another one of my mom's shaggy dog stories. The particular story she happened to be telling me about involved our dog ruining a turkey dinner or something and it knocked over some gravy and spilled it everywhere and she didn't want to clean it up.
I sarcastically suggested that she 'get down on her hands and knees and lick up that sticky mess.' It was gravy after all. As soon as I finished sayin' that I heard a noise. It was sort of a choking, gasping, and retching all in one. I looked towards the source of the noise and saw my roommate standing in my doorway. I had been on the phone and had not heard him come in, just in time to witness me sitting with my pants unzipped, penis out and erect and in my hand, telling my mother to get on her hands and knees and lick up a sticky mess. I got frickin' kicked out of the apartment, got !black listed from the company, and had to fight off a lousy sexual harassment suit!”
Thinking I understood the point of his story finally, I quickly interjected “So what you are trying to tell me is that the context of a situation is important. You have me all that background so I would understand the context of the situation your roommate found you in and understood that although on the surface it would appear to be a sick and twisted perversion it was all just a weird coincidence. But your room mate lacked that context and thought you an incestuous pervert! If we wish to understand a situation we should suspend judgment until we know the context.”
“No.......I was just trying to say don't answer your phone while jacking off.”
posted by Wacky Watercress at 7:57 PM
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