I used to write more. I am so glad I did because I have the whole thing catalogued. It makes this process easier. And I get to be more honest here because no one knows me. The last blog had friends who read it.
The Rapper and I were supposed to go out Wed. Which turned to Friday, only I waited for him to follow up. He was supposed to be entertaining a local (famous )rapper who has even more famous relatives. It was not the scene I wanted to be in, so I did not pursue.
He texts me at 9. We bicker about timing. I tell him we are going out as friends. He says he wants sex. I get a little bitchy and make it clear I am no one’s fwb. But thanks for the honesty, glad we figured this out now before we went out. He says he never said he wanted fwb. I send him the screen shot of the message which CLEARLY states what he wants. Then he says who knows where it would go. He says he is open to whatever. I assume meaning he means dating. He asks me if I would rather he not be interested. I told him I am confused he states something (in writing) and then tells me he didn’t say it.
I do not deal well with mixed messages I say. “I enjoyed our phone chat the other night and I found you to be genuine. Would I love to know more? Of course.”
I show first. The music is loud and I cannot hear him at all. It is awkward. It’s country and I hate country. He is twitchy. He seems nervous.
We go to the next place. He says he is broke because he just bought his kid a car. So, I buy 2 rounds, he buys 1. Whatever.
At one point he double takes at my boobs. I wore a hot pink bra and a new loose deep-v tee-shirt. I know full well what I am doing and I know I am giving mixed messages. But…let them want you while you tell them exactly what it will take to get you.
At one point the shirt slips off my shoulder a bit and as I go to adjust he says he wanted to do it and cup my breast. He then asks if my undies match the bra. I pull open my jeans to show dark purple boy shorts. I tell him I am not a lingerie girl. Way more wife beater and he agrees lingerie is a waste.
He then leans over and says something about doing porn things to my body. I do not get the exact wording. But let’s be clear – I am not that hot. I am decidedly girl shaped with a smaller waist and great boobs and a fantastic ass…..but I am not all that.
We make it to last call. He hugs me as he hails a cab and I make some noise that indicates I will drive him home. He jumps out of my car and does not invite me in. Hm. Games. Push. Pull. He wants to do dirty things to me but he is going to make me make the moves. Only I am going to make him make the moves. Impasse. Fuck.
I get home. Text him that. “Home”. “I am glad I was able to be responsible and mature” he says. “Are you?”, I ask.
I send him a pic of me in my wife beater in bed. I have sent similar pics and always gotten very good responses. His? “See? That girl looks like a girl that wants to fuck..or at least fuck around”
“Nope. Don’t wanna fuck. I know good marketing. Why did you add me on f@cebook?”
“Cuz I wanted to hang out with you”.
Then he gets dirty and I tell him that his plan for me to come over the next night (tonight) are changing because I am only going to see him in public.
So. What is the takeway from all of this.
1) I am guarded. Way more guarded than last time which makes sense. I was head over heels the first time and he brushed me off. He did worse than brush me off. He threatened to call the cops. Like I was a stalker. A few emails and a text do not a stalker make asshat. I know where you live and I have not driven by.
2) He looks older. The sun is not doing him any favors. And he isn’t as cute as he was when he was a computer guy.
3) Chemistry? I cannot tell. It started weird. He did not really touch me all night. I am not smitten like I was last time. I have changed. I want connection. And I am not getting that in a bar where I cannot hear anything.
4) The overt sexual references are putting me off. Tell me I am pretty or hot but “porn things to your body”? You are still rebounding hard from that gf. And you think women are to be used. And it will not be me.
We will see. I do not think I will see him tonight. I will make him wait.