So, it’s time for me to get back into the dating game. Not sure what I am looking for – summertime really isn’t the best time to slide into a relationship, with all the hot eye candy, and parties, and flirting that has to be done – but at a minimum, this should generate some blog content, yeah? #thethingsIdoformyreaders #selfless
Omen of trainwrecks to come
The Universe seems to agree with me. On Monday night, I got a Facebook message from the dude I lost my virginity to, 13 years ago. I haven’t spoken to this guy since then, and we have no friends in common. How he tracked me down… I dunno. But then again, that is the whole purpose of Facebook, right? Stalking 101.
After a few short minutes spent small-talking via Messenger, Virginator asked me if I’d be interested in a no-holds barred night of hooking up, so that “we could do everything we were too shy to do when we were young.”
Was I sure? Yup, very sure.
It would be fun! Bro, I still remember our few times together. I highly doubt it would be fun. My rather limited experience since then has confirmed what I suspected then: the sex we had was not very good.
But why not? Really? I have to justify myself? Because I don’t want to.
But, seriously, why don’t you want to? Because, seriously, Virginator, you are not my type. Before you ask, my type is athletic (NOT skinny, those are NOT the same thing, I like some meat on my bones), tall, charming, preferably Black or Arab, and good dick. You are none of those things, Virginator. Especially not charming.
Too bad. Have fun Googling. Hmmmm? Ok. Fine. I’ll bite the bait.
I was SO SURE he’d turn out to be a small time amateur porn star, possibly the model used to show-case sex toys on websites. Yet when I Googled him, and I spent more than 2 minutes trying to find him, all I got was a very reasonable LinkedIn profile, a mention in his granny’s obituary and other boring typical links. Virginator is a nothing-special guy.
What a disappointing end to this story. I had such high hopes.
Still, now I know that I can use “Have fun Googling!” as a sassy repartee whenever I want to make a lasting impression.
OMG Virginator! I love it!!! I often felt nostalgic about the first guy I was ever really head over heels about. Then a few months ago I found out that he unceremoniously dumped his wife and their two children because he wanted to “move on to other things”. No more nostalgia, none. Just boiling anger and disappointment because he wife his actually a colleague of mine who is one of the sweetest people I know.
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To be nostalgic about something, it needs to have been a positive experience in some way, shape or form…