... And so has my ability to whore myself out in the worst/best of ways.
Two weeks ago, I opted to not go to happy hour because my favorite co-workers weren't going. Instead I went home, drank 2 bottles of wine alone while watching Hostel, and passed out by 930 pm (great, glad I'm not turning into an alcoholic). I woke up to my Blackberry actually buzzing off of the nightstand - bbms from who else? Jack Dawson. He was in Brooklyn and asking me to come out. Real annoyed that he was booty calling me and expecting me to be around, I didn't answer him while my still-drunk self got out of bed and got dressed. I met him at Brooklyn Bowl where his bitch roommate ignored my existence and he tried to get me to have sex in the bathroom (it was too crowded). We took a cab back to his place where he informed me that I "could sleep over" ... yea, thanks. It's 3 am on a school night and we came from my neighborhood all the way to upper Manhattan, thanks for inviting me to sleep over (why are dudes so stupid?). So we "slept" and when the work alarm went off and I explained that my job is amazing and I was working from home that Friday, he was jealous.
He asked the following series of questions:
Jack: Do you want breakfast?
J: Do you have clothes or want to take a shower with me?
M: No, I'm going home to shower, I don't have clothes with me.
J: Do you want to wait for me to get ready and we can ride the train downtown together?
M: No. ....
Then I snuck out while he was showering.
When did I become a total dude?? This is so great. Sex with no feelings. I AM IN LOVE ... with myself and my life.
Smooches and Smushes xo