balls

I'm really proud of myself.

Last weekend I visited an old friend in New York. He, his sister and I went out for some pre-dinner drinks, and sat at the bar.

When we arrived, a shift change was going on, and I spotted a GORGEOUS guy enter the kitchen. He was dressed like one of the waiters, with the white shirt and tie, but he never came out to the front of the house. He was about 6 feet tall, fit, with silky brown hair over his forehead, big green eyes, and a beautiful smile framed by perfect red lips. I'd sneak glances back there, and he'd sneak some at me. We locked eyes a couple times, so there was no question what was going on. One time I looked up, and he was having a similar eye-lock with my friend. I elbowed my friend and said "I saw that", and we laughed. Now the game was on.

My friend and his sister are well-known in town, so everybody from the greeter to the manager were fawning over us, pouring free drinks and asking us to opine on their new appetizers. The reason I mention that is because it made it impossible for the waiter to approach us, or vice versa.

When it came time to leave, I purposely left my camera on the bar so that I could run back in, figuring that if my friend wasn't with me, none of the staff would pay me any attention. No such luck. Just as I turned around to head back in, the manager came running out with my camera. Blast!

I thought it was game over, but I figured "You know what, who cares whether I look stupid!? This isn't my town. I'm going back in there!" So I told my friend and his sister that I'm a big dummy and forgot something else, and ran back in. There were literally about a dozen staff members still standing there where we'd been sitting, and they all watched me from the moment I walked in the door. The manager, still in fawning mode, said "Can I help you with something?" and I said "No thanks!", walked right past him and the others, and into the kitchen.

I found the waiter, who looked startled to see me, passed him my card, said "Call us", smiled, and walked out. I ran back to my friends, and we headed off. About 15 minutes later, my friend said "DAMMIT!! I wish we'd had the guts to talk to that hot waiter!" I gave him a sly smile, and said, simply, "We did!" He looked puzzled, so I said "Why do you think I left my camera in there! I'm no dummy!" We all laughed, and that was it.

Until, about 5 minutes later, the waiter friended me on Facebook. He is a college student and a dancer, and was wondering what the two of us were doing that night....

Wheeee!!!
I have such an aversion to work pooping. Perhaps it's just a manifestation of my general reluctance to develop intimacy with anyone at work. Which I can't really explain. All through school, I thought it was important, and desirable, to become friends with my classmates outside of class. But as a working adult, I don't want to have anything to do with them from the moment I clock out.

So it irritates me when I'm work pooping, and somebody comes into the stall next to me. I do NOT want to hear you groaning. I don't want to smell the digested food waste coming out of your butt. I don't want to hear the sound of the elastic on your panties. I don't want to know that you tap your feet while pooping, or that you play with your phone. Most of all, I don't want to hear the sound of toilet paper scraping against your asshole hair. I just don't want to know that much about you. Poop somewhere else!

And just in case you're wondering, this also applies to the hot guys I work with. And it does not apply to public pooping in general. I'm not poop shy. This is just for work pooping.

Anyway, I'm drunk.

To follow up on some of the questions I received on my last post: yes, of course I was hard too. Yes, it was probably just one of those youthful sleep boners; he's only 18. No, I didn't take it further; I'm a lady! Yes, I think he knew what was going on; as soon as I touched his dick, his heart started beating really fast and he stopped breathing. Yes, we hung out again since then. We spent Saturday night together and baked cookies (among other things), but he didn't sleep over this time. Anyway, end of that story.

I'm gonna go make another drink.

Also, I'm over chatroulette. It's lame. It's 5 parts fat-guy-dick, 3 parts stupid-frat-guys-looking-for-boobs, 1 part groups-of-giggling-girls and 1 part people-who-click-next. My new addiction is manroulette. Much to my surprise, I have actually had some really fun conversations on there. It's still 5 parts dick, but at least most of the guys have hot bodies. And when you remove the frat guys and the giggling girls, that leaves a lot of guys who are actually there to chat. Just last night I talked to a closeted Mormon college student in Utah, and an adorable smiley Irishman. Wunderbar!

I just watched a movie called "Maurice". Hugh Grant was hot-as-fuck (until he grew that stupid mustache. I'm anti-facial hair, except tasteful masculine stubble). Also, it was a beautiful story, and makes me incredibly thankful to live in 21st century America, and not early 20th-century England (or 21st century Iran, for that matter). Also, why can't we have more tasteful male nudity in mainstream film? Scudder? Yes, please!

Speaking of film, did you know you can get Netflix through your Wii? Genius!

Anyway, as a new friend just said "you're a busy lady." And so I am. I'm off.