You tasted like cigarettes, and your accent was strange in retrospect. You gave me a flood of mixed emotions: I judged you harshly for dropping out of high school to sell real estate, then envied you for that brand new Ferrari you bought with your salary, then felt sad for you when the economy crashed .
You had too many long island iced teas. You were drunk, I was helping you walk. Slobber. Everywhere. Your tongue was basically licking my face. You told me you gave me a C for kissing skills. Then someone stole my purse and iPhone, when I wasn’t looking. You fell asleep on my couch that night, you were always just a confused kid.
You kept buying me martinis. So many martinis. I was nothing but mean to you, but you sent me flowers. You kissed like a girl. I told you this isn’t going to work I like the, “Push me against the wall types.” You said, “Yeah you would.” You wanted to know when I was ready to get married. Jesus. Married? No. I still need do stuff. Important stuff like hike the himalayas, trek Machu Picchu, sail the Greek Islands, I can’t marry you right now. You still text me sometimes. I’m still not interested.
You were the “push me against the wall” type. Your eyes always wandered at me. You talked about your sexual exploits the same way people talked about their sunday afternoons. I thought you were beautiful in this tormented soul kind of way. We started kissing, and you screamed at me to take my ****ing pants off. I was terrified. I couldn’t handle the push me against the wall type. I ran. Fast. You still call me someone times, I’m polite never receptive. Maybe..thirty year old you will be a gentlemen with those those same smoldering dark eyes.
You were the bartender. I wanted a free drink. I think you were from New Jersey. I liked your smile.
You said your name. I practically fainted. Everything about you oozed sexuality. You were half latin, half something else. You weren’t tall, or ridiculously fit- but your face was simply astonishing. My knees got weak just talking to you. Then you looked at me and said, “I think we had a class together last semester. Don’t you wear a little red skirt a lot?” And with those words I decided to flip the switch and become the predator not the prey. You looked like a deer in headlights for a second but then you didn’t mind at all.
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