A Story of Desperation

I should've wrote this post last week when it happened. But given that I've had some time to reflect on it, my insight might be better.

I went to Quizno's when I was on break from work. While I'm ordering, a girl walks up to me and strikes up a conversation. She was attractive enough. For those that don't know, I'm extremely picky and that was a compliment, coming from me. So we're talking and having cool conversation, her friends come in and tell her to hurry up because they had somewhere to be. Neither one of us were trying to dead the banter, so she asks me for my number. That was sexy to me because I like a woman to take charge every now and then. I was opening my mouth and before I could speak a word, she says " Yeah, I need your number because your lips look like they could suck my clit clean off of my body." And with that, I said, " You had my number until you said some desperate shit like that."

Ladies, desperation is only sexy if I'm drunk. If I'm sober, it acts more as a repellent. Think of it as Raid, except you're not killing roaches, you're killing my interest. I mean damn! Can I at least buy you a meal before you start speculating how good my tongue game is? And what if I was against oral? I'm not, but what if? Chick would have been highly disappointed that she made herself look like a skank.

I like aggressive women, but I'd like to get to know them before they pounce on me. Let this be a lesson to all women. Because like 2Pac said, " I hate to sound sleazy, but I don't want it if it's that easy."