We'll call him "Nick." Actually his real name is Nick Gregory and I suck at coming up with pseudonyms. I figure that if people don't want their real name printed on the internet, they shouldn't behave in a blog-worthy manner.
Nick was a nice 27 year old white male. We met at Ruby Tuesday on a Friday night. He wasn't as nice in person as he'd been via text and seemed a little full of himself. At 27, I hadn't expected him to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation, but it turned out he wasn't capable of conversation at all. He talked about how he only dates "mature" women now because they "know what they want." My thoughts were -- and you think that's you? Of course I was offended by the word mature. Mature vitamins are for women over 50 and I'm no where near 50 a-hole.
When the check arrived, he started mumbling about not being paid yet that day, blah, blah, blah. Ready for this date to be over, I just grabbed it and paid. When it was time to leave, he informed me that he had been dropped off there and needed a ride home. Um what?! You got dropped off and didn't think to clear that with me first? Apparently he thought he was so cute and charming that I'd jump at the chance to give him a ride. I had a split second thought about going to the restroom and leaving him there. But I quickly dismissed the idea since most of the staff are friends and I didn't want to dump that problem on them.
Arriving at his "home" I noticed several cars and was pretty certain this was a local drug rehab house (similar to a half way house). I asked about it and he confirmed that he was in treatment there but had turned his life around and more self-serving drivel. He then mentioned that he was "late" and the house had a 10:30 pm curfew. It was 10:43. He asked me to wait while he made sure he could get in. He called the house and had a TMI conversation with whoever was in charge and learned that he could not come in past curfew. He said, "I guess it's your lucky night." Really? Stuck with a homeless, unintelligent drug addict is your idea of lucky?
After much conversation about where he wanted me to take him and him having no place to go, could he please sleep on my couch, etc, I relented. Although I can generally chew someone out really well via text or email, I lack capacity to deal with real life conflict. I reasoned; I paid for dinner, I'm stuck with him, he's 27, what could go wrong?
EVERYTHING!
We got to my house where I promptly opened a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. He began dropping his clothes as soon as he was in the front door. He was short and extremely skinny yet for some reason felt my jaw should be dropping at the sight of his body. Ugh. Upon seeing him nude coupled with his limitless arrogance, I knew then that I would not be getting naked with this guy. I downed my glass of wine, pointed out the couch and told him I was going to bed.
He followed. Crawled right up onto my bed and put his penis in my face saying, "Do you want to taste me?"
I quickly replied, "No!" while simultaneously thinking HELL NO and ARE YOU ON CRACK? Actually, that part could have been true; he was certainly living out some deluded fantasy where he's sexy and women fall all over him.
Here's a little Cougar 101: If you date older women, don't pay, don't drive, basically don't have a home, and can't put three words together in an appealing fashion; you do not get to put your cock in her mouth. Ever! At this point you are simply a little bitch here to make me happy. If you lack the capacity to please me physically then do the dishes or something. And you do NOT get to drink my good wine!
But he did. Drank a whole bottle of Mirassou Pinot Noir.
I tried to roll over and go to sleep utilizing my normal method of problem solving - pretending it doesn't exist. Not giving up easily, he came to the other side of the bed, threw my man pillow on the floor (full length body pillow), put one of my smaller pillows under his bare ass (1200 thread count sheets by the way - no place for his nasty ass to be), and tried to kiss me.
I politely said, "Do not sit on my pillows because I put my face there and I don't want anything from your ass getting on my face." I asked him again to go sleep on the couch and leave me alone.
Yes, I had the thoughts of a normal person, call 911, call a guy friend to escort him out, trick him into going outside and locking him out, etc. But for some reason I opted to try to sleep and deal with it in the morning. He stayed awake most of the night going through my books and drinking my good wine. About 6:00 am I offered to take him home. He was reading a book I have on blow jobs probably wondering why I have such a book but didn't want to 'taste' him. He asked if I wanted to try any of this stuff and I again replied, "NO, but I will take you home." Next he wanted to know if I would watch him finish himself. I told him, in my stern voice, that he had to leave now and he could not do that in my house and certainly not while sitting on my bed.
He left.
LESSON LEARNED: Do not pay for dinner! It's all downhill from there.
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