|Important life lesson #2: You can always count on friends with pineapple.
||[Mar. 12th, 2011|02:14 am]
҉Captain Jorge Juan Valdez the Magnificent
A long long time ago, before I met Mr. David, I had a dating life.|
I met this guy who, for all intents and purposes was a more attractive Vin Diesel look alike. Say what you will, but I am all about the gravely voiced, bald, and overly muscled men. His voice was slightly gravely, his head shaved, and he was not too muscley, not too lean. In other words? He was hot.
We spent many days switching between friendly banter and flirting, when he finally invited me over for dinner one night- hooray! Turns out Mr. Not-Diesel is quite an accomplished cook. I haven't had many meals better than that. Mr.ICantBelieveItsNotDiesel was also an accomplished vintner and baker- homemade cheesecake and a cabernet from his own backyard? Be still my beating heart! If he had whipped out a ring, I would have gladly accepted.
After that heavenly meal, he switches on some smooth jazz, and leads me to the bathroom, where things start to get hot and steamy. It left me breathless, and my heart was pounding. I was dizzy, and the room was spinning. This is not a metaphor. I figured it was just the steam making it a little harder to breathe, and thought almost nothing of it.
I'm on the bed with Mr. FauxDiesel, things are picking up speed and going quite well, the contract was written, and we were about to sign the deal, when my hand bunches up in a fist. I remember thinking to myself.. What the fuck? Demonic possession? I tried to make a joke about it to him, when much to my chagrin, I discovered that my mouth wasn't working.
I frantically tried to tell him that I was having a stroke, or that my brain had spontaneously grown a tumor, or that there was some sort of massive medical emergency happening, but all that came out was MRRMLLMRRRRR MRRLRMLRRRADFAERRR BLRRGH! I tried to pantomime it, but since I couldn't unclench my fist, it probably looked like I was trying to hit him.
I lost all control of my muscles at that point, and found my body forcing itself into a very shaky fetal position. Not cool body, not cool. He seemed to figure out at that point that something BAD! was going on, and you know what that asshole did instead of at least trying to call an ambulance or something? He whips his dick out. What the fuck? As I slowly recovered, he just kept putting his hands in inappropriate places. Instead of... y'know, looking kind of concerned, he just kept trying to get him some. Ugh.
When my body finally exorcised it's demons, I slapped that motherfucker as hard as I could, walked out to my car, called my best friend, and stupidly drove to her house. I was so freaked out by the whole experience. Best friend was kind enough to wait for me with pineapple, kind words, and a level head.
I'll tell you, I have never been so thankful to see that little yellow fruit, and am eternally grateful because of that little lady in glasses.