She Fucking Dissed Me?!:
The Tale of a Man's Not-So-Rare Walk of Shame
The code said three days, so of course he waited three days before sending that casual text with all the nonchalant effective wording:
The Tale of a Man's Not-So-Rare Walk of Shame
The code said three days, so of course he waited three days before sending that casual text with all the nonchalant effective wording:
"Hey... i had fun the other day."
Of course, he noted, his performance had been outstanding. He'd made her squeal at all the right points. He'd playfully lingered over her until she couldn't take it anymore, and he'd even given her the reassurance that she was good as well. He brought on the compliments. He lathered it on like layers in a cake. He could not tell a lie, she was fantastic. So the reply comes, and oh, what's this?
"Yeah. It was good."
What?! No smiley? No capricious flirtatious little giggle? No HEHE?! He contemplated not returning the text. He wondered what it meant...
We find our man in a sticky situation, and it is now he realizes what precisely has happened, and prays it isn't so.
Yes, he'd followed her home from the bar on her request, yes he'd ventured into her one-bedroom apartment and allowed her to make him a cup of tea. Yes, he'd successfully seduced her in her bedroom, and was obliged to collect his boxers in the morning and leave.
But she had an early class and he was only being nice!
"So yeah, I was wondering if you want to catch a movie tonight?"
Our man is hoping to be casual, because he doesn't want to appear too desperate. He notices there's a late reply and wonders if he asked her the right thing. After all, is it against protocol of these so-called "one nights" to ask the woman out on a proper date? Movie ticket, popcorn, the works?
"Busy tonight. But thanks, that's sweet."
Busy? My ass. It is now that he realizes his less-than-threatening advances have been in vain.
Our man diagnoses the issue at hand. He's fallen into the pit of truly liking this one-niter, instead of keeping her up on the shelf with the rest of dim-witted idiots he's collected in his college career. He couldn't help if her opinions on Marxism were more than sufficient, or if he caught himself thinking of her as a little prettier than average even after she removed all her makeup, or even if she was just good at what she did with her body, clothes on or off.
Enter the "Bro".
Now the "Bro" is our man's best friend. A heterosexual romance has evolved between them, and he calls upon this stoned, opinionated, pseudo-intellectual to help him evaluate the situation at hand.
The "Bro" begins his defending tyrant by pointing out that the girl in question has an ass the size of a small galaxy.
Our man begrudgingly agrees, though he thinks otherwise, and in fact truly admires her derriere against his better judgment.
After a beer and idle smalltalk about video games, the "Bro" suggests they check her Facebook page.
For a few moments, all seems well.
She updated her status, and she's currently taking a shower, ten minutes ago.
Then, with sudden revelation, the "Bro" announces
"DUDE, DUDE, DUDE, CHECK OUT THIS SHIT!"
Our man rushes to the computer.
Under her relationship status:
The ex boyfriend?! The dude she was bitching about three nights ago at the bar?! The guy with the fucking irrelevant tribal tattoo and absence of a respectable job and was still living with his parents?!
"She fucking dissed me!"
With horror, our man realizes that he was used.
He was "that guy".
Embittered, he calls up the other "Bros"...
A night of makeup debauchery ensues, his opinion of women growing evermore blasé.
Of course, he noted, his performance had been outstanding. He'd made her squeal at all the right points. He'd playfully lingered over her until she couldn't take it anymore, and he'd even given her the reassurance that she was good as well. He brought on the compliments. He lathered it on like layers in a cake. He could not tell a lie, she was fantastic. So the reply comes, and oh, what's this?
"Yeah. It was good."
What?! No smiley? No capricious flirtatious little giggle? No HEHE?! He contemplated not returning the text. He wondered what it meant...
We find our man in a sticky situation, and it is now he realizes what precisely has happened, and prays it isn't so.
Yes, he'd followed her home from the bar on her request, yes he'd ventured into her one-bedroom apartment and allowed her to make him a cup of tea. Yes, he'd successfully seduced her in her bedroom, and was obliged to collect his boxers in the morning and leave.
But she had an early class and he was only being nice!
"So yeah, I was wondering if you want to catch a movie tonight?"
Our man is hoping to be casual, because he doesn't want to appear too desperate. He notices there's a late reply and wonders if he asked her the right thing. After all, is it against protocol of these so-called "one nights" to ask the woman out on a proper date? Movie ticket, popcorn, the works?
"Busy tonight. But thanks, that's sweet."
Busy? My ass. It is now that he realizes his less-than-threatening advances have been in vain.
Our man diagnoses the issue at hand. He's fallen into the pit of truly liking this one-niter, instead of keeping her up on the shelf with the rest of dim-witted idiots he's collected in his college career. He couldn't help if her opinions on Marxism were more than sufficient, or if he caught himself thinking of her as a little prettier than average even after she removed all her makeup, or even if she was just good at what she did with her body, clothes on or off.
Enter the "Bro".
Now the "Bro" is our man's best friend. A heterosexual romance has evolved between them, and he calls upon this stoned, opinionated, pseudo-intellectual to help him evaluate the situation at hand.
The "Bro" begins his defending tyrant by pointing out that the girl in question has an ass the size of a small galaxy.
Our man begrudgingly agrees, though he thinks otherwise, and in fact truly admires her derriere against his better judgment.
After a beer and idle smalltalk about video games, the "Bro" suggests they check her Facebook page.
For a few moments, all seems well.
She updated her status, and she's currently taking a shower, ten minutes ago.
Then, with sudden revelation, the "Bro" announces
"DUDE, DUDE, DUDE, CHECK OUT THIS SHIT!"
Our man rushes to the computer.
Under her relationship status:
"It's Complicated with...."
The ex boyfriend?! The dude she was bitching about three nights ago at the bar?! The guy with the fucking irrelevant tribal tattoo and absence of a respectable job and was still living with his parents?!
"She fucking dissed me!"
With horror, our man realizes that he was used.
He was "that guy".
Embittered, he calls up the other "Bros"...
A night of makeup debauchery ensues, his opinion of women growing evermore blasé.
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