I have boys, I don't have boy problems
It's Sunday night, 4:30am. As is usual on nights I'm not booked on a temp assignment for the following morning, the cell phone is on and next to my bed. It rings. Groggy, I look at the caller ID. It's Rob, one of my regular surfer boy hookups. Evidently, he wants to fuck. I'd be game except for the little fact that it's...oh, 4:30am and I've been woken out of a sound sleep. To voicemail it goes.
The phone goes off again, then a third time, then a fourth. To shut the phone up, I start clicking the end button. He's still not deterred. He sends a text:
You'd better wake up, I'm coming on over.
Safe to say, this freaks me out more than a wee bit. This also gets my annoyed, slightly scared ass out of bed. First, I make sure all three locks of my door are in place. Then I call him.
"What the fuck?!?" I hiss at Rob when he picks up. "If you come over, I'm calling the cops on your ass. It's 4:30 in the fucking morning and I'm sleeping."
He gets the hint, which I pretty much thought he would. "Calm down, I'm not coming over," he said. I can plainly hear a bong being used in the background. He tells me why he called: See, he lost his job a few weeks back and just wants to have "a cool chick to hang out and talk to." Right, that would be me. Except not at 4:30 in the morning, as I point out numerous times. To sweeten the deal, he brings up his roommate, another really good-looking surfer boy. Do I want to be double-teamed?
"Rob, you know I'm always game, but again, it's 4:30 IN THE FUCKING MORNING!"
"Okay, okay." He finally gets the hint and calms down. On my request, he tells me the tale of how he lost his job. He was a busboy at one of the better-known restaurants downtown and if his side of events is to be believed, the new owners had a hard-on for him. The manager of the place tried to defend him the best she could but when someone wants you gone, they find a way. So he's been unemployed ever since, and wants someone to talk to.
Also, he was banging her, which he describes in great detail. "You're a friggin' playa, you know that?" I say, not surprised in the least.
"So are you," he replies. This is true. He knew that I was doing both him and his best friend at the same time, which culminated in a threesome that turned out to be fairly fun but freaked the other guy out. Haven't heard from his best friend since. Whatever, he was dumb as a box of rocks anyway.
So I tell Rob that I'm taking a raincheck on the threesome with his roommate because I'm going back to sleep. Which I do.
Cut to: Saturday night. I'm hanging out at a little lounge downtown with the resident DJ and his girlfriend, the latter with whom I'm exchanging coy flirting. I'm up for sex. I decide to text Rob to ask what he's up to. Five minutes later, he texts back:
Not much why you looking for a double team?
To which I respond: You know it. I show the texts to Kelli, who gives me a high-five. The night goes on. She gets her boyfriend to buy me a Red Bull. We dance. When the night is close to over, she offers to walk with me to my car, which is five blocks away. So we walk with our arms around each other up the main downtown street, waving hi to all the Taxi Boys, who are probably thinking about how I'm hooking up as usual. Ha!
When I get home, I call Rob. Turns out he needs to be up early because he's going to a Dolphins game. He doesn't invite me over. Boo. He sounds a lot more sober than last weekend. I tell him if he changes his mind, I'll be up for another hour but the phone is getting turned off when I start crashing out.
He hasn't called since. Maybe because it's the holidays and all. But hey, I'm free both Christmas Eve and Day, which fall on a weekend...yeah.
The phone goes off again, then a third time, then a fourth. To shut the phone up, I start clicking the end button. He's still not deterred. He sends a text:
You'd better wake up, I'm coming on over.
Safe to say, this freaks me out more than a wee bit. This also gets my annoyed, slightly scared ass out of bed. First, I make sure all three locks of my door are in place. Then I call him.
"What the fuck?!?" I hiss at Rob when he picks up. "If you come over, I'm calling the cops on your ass. It's 4:30 in the fucking morning and I'm sleeping."
He gets the hint, which I pretty much thought he would. "Calm down, I'm not coming over," he said. I can plainly hear a bong being used in the background. He tells me why he called: See, he lost his job a few weeks back and just wants to have "a cool chick to hang out and talk to." Right, that would be me. Except not at 4:30 in the morning, as I point out numerous times. To sweeten the deal, he brings up his roommate, another really good-looking surfer boy. Do I want to be double-teamed?
"Rob, you know I'm always game, but again, it's 4:30 IN THE FUCKING MORNING!"
"Okay, okay." He finally gets the hint and calms down. On my request, he tells me the tale of how he lost his job. He was a busboy at one of the better-known restaurants downtown and if his side of events is to be believed, the new owners had a hard-on for him. The manager of the place tried to defend him the best she could but when someone wants you gone, they find a way. So he's been unemployed ever since, and wants someone to talk to.
Also, he was banging her, which he describes in great detail. "You're a friggin' playa, you know that?" I say, not surprised in the least.
"So are you," he replies. This is true. He knew that I was doing both him and his best friend at the same time, which culminated in a threesome that turned out to be fairly fun but freaked the other guy out. Haven't heard from his best friend since. Whatever, he was dumb as a box of rocks anyway.
So I tell Rob that I'm taking a raincheck on the threesome with his roommate because I'm going back to sleep. Which I do.
Cut to: Saturday night. I'm hanging out at a little lounge downtown with the resident DJ and his girlfriend, the latter with whom I'm exchanging coy flirting. I'm up for sex. I decide to text Rob to ask what he's up to. Five minutes later, he texts back:
Not much why you looking for a double team?
To which I respond: You know it. I show the texts to Kelli, who gives me a high-five. The night goes on. She gets her boyfriend to buy me a Red Bull. We dance. When the night is close to over, she offers to walk with me to my car, which is five blocks away. So we walk with our arms around each other up the main downtown street, waving hi to all the Taxi Boys, who are probably thinking about how I'm hooking up as usual. Ha!
When I get home, I call Rob. Turns out he needs to be up early because he's going to a Dolphins game. He doesn't invite me over. Boo. He sounds a lot more sober than last weekend. I tell him if he changes his mind, I'll be up for another hour but the phone is getting turned off when I start crashing out.
He hasn't called since. Maybe because it's the holidays and all. But hey, I'm free both Christmas Eve and Day, which fall on a weekend...yeah.