The only lay in the summer of 2004, until one of my ex'es flew into town and offered her services to me out of pity. The younger, still-menstruating girls couldn't detect my charm but this menopausal mama from the trashy Vegas exurbs wanted to pay me a visit. Hmmm.... a nice break from scratching my balls all day in front of the TV.
Marie arrived on a torrid July weekend wearing Daisy Dukes. Thoroughly déclassé. My mother's nightmare (and contemporary). She was so happy to leave her insurance job for a couple of days and hoof it up in La-La Land with a pretty and much, much younger than her. Unfortunately, I couldn't match her enthusiasm. She looked so skanky that I didn't want to accompany her into town or even introduce her to Tim or Carrie. But Carrie spotted us together on the stairs- Itchy and Grody - and mentioned this to Tim.
I didn't dare take her out to eat - and be seen with her in public - so I ordered pizza. With my dumpy apartment and worn Ikea furniture it was easy to create the charade that I was too broke to afford otherwise. I usually try to wrangle a sushi outing out of any company but not this one- no way!
Instead of the naked, sweet goodness of sake I had to contend with the hard lines of her face (one of us was square-jawed) and the even harsher lines of her pumped-up anatomy. She modeled her cheap Victoria's Secret lingerie for me, proud of her Franken-body. And of course sex was in the forecast but it was difficult to get turned on. I tried to caress her leathery, knotted skin, and her zombie hands were all over my taut, much much younger body but, honestly, her manufactured tits were the hardest thing in bed that night. As I told that psycho a few months later, I wasn't turned on at all. I also added that Marie just happened to be the only woman who was even interested in me that summer, in one of my few lucid moments. Marianna didn't even blink, already used to my hapless luck with online dating.
If you know me more than casually, you would have heard me trashing women with fake boobs, but then I gladly take this when nobody else will take my bait. Beggars can't be choosers.
I quickly reminded her the next day that she had a long drive ahead of her- Please, go - and threw her balled up change of clothes and cheap lingerie back into her trashy car.
But to be nice, of course, I asked her to call me when she arrived home. I do that to all chicks. Makes me seem gentlemanly, even I'm scratching my balls for the umpteenth time while they call back.
She still emails me every now and then, asking to visit. I always give her some excuse- work, with a girl now (like in June 2005, only two months after The Breakup), have to scoop up after my friend Tim's dog while he's out of town, gotta lay down some new linoleum, etc. She reveals that she's a bit anxious about finding a new man- she's too picky. I simply reply "Marie, what are you talking about?! You're so hot and sexy," hoping that she won't invite herself over again. She signs her emails "Kisses" and tells me that I'm very special to her.
Probably because I didn't ask her to pay me for that one time.
Hmmm... I probably should have just spend that weekend alone, shining the meat missile. :-(
Once again not with a girl I want- extraordinary in looks, education, intelligence, ambition or vivaciousness, or who can even understand French... but I don't deserve that, anyway, nor will such girls usually even give me the time of day. If confronted, I'll just deny everything and continue to insist that she's hot and sexy- she needs to hear it, though his truck driver's trophy girl has enough horny rube admirers on her page (regarde, Maman- I'm in good company) - even though my actions (i.e., not introducing her to my friend who lives only two doors away or wanting to be seen in public with her) indicate otherwise. Besides, I tell that to every female I meet online, especially the ones who throw themselves at me (1, 2).
If you spent more than a few hours with me, you've probably heard me make fun of women who state on their profiles that they're looking for meaningful conversation and then insert photos of their body parts, perhaps tattooed, framed by scanty clothing. Well, voilà- je suis hypocrite.
Overall, not a stellar summer (see Jennifer).
Marie Simer, Mehdi Yssef can only get booty from old trashy ladies
Back to the beginning.
