Hit and Quit

There are definitely situations where you just have to apply the “hit and quit” motto. Something that I should’ve kept letting be.

I was swiping, mostly left, on Tinder when I bumped into an old lover of mine. We met in Tecate, BC in a music/bike event about three years ago. I thought he was cute as fuck, even with his both upper front teeth chipped. We started chatting and made plans to go see Afroman play at The Holding Company (cool joint, nice hippies). I got there, and he was accompanied with two friends on the front patio.
I finished my cigarette before going in, passed security and went up to him and gave him a big hug. The last time we saw each other was about three years ago. He looked exactly the same, definitely older, but the same. We had a couple of beers together at the venue, danced and sang away along with Afroman. Joints were being passed out among the crowd, everyone was feeling it and having a great time.
Right after the show, that’s when everything started going down hill; believe me, it became a pretty steep one really darn quick. We started walking towards my car, when he decided to ride his skateboard and do some sharp tuns along the sidewalk. He almost ended up bursting a window from a shop, made a total fool of himself…I was so embarrassed because there were a lot of people out there…I just kept walking.
We got to his place, had some more beers, talked, smoked wax and fucked. I was having a good time, finally,  until after making out, his stomach decided to return everything that he put in…EVERY-FUCKING-THING. I passed out, just let him and his situation alone.
Next morning I woke up early, as usual. Sneaked out of the bed, grabbed my clothes and went to the restroom and changed clothes. Went back to get my vans and, for my surprise, one was way heavier than the other…Yup, just exactly what you’re imagining…it was covered and filled with puke. I don’t know what the fuck he ate the night before, but it looked like a big freaking rotten cake inside. I didn’t know whether to throw them away , clean them or kill him. Ended up going with the second choice and almost puked myself during the process.
Went back to the restroom and rinsed them, shit wouldn’t stop coming out from there. It was so gross! Like, for real, who pukes into a shoe? At this point I don’t even know if he did it on purpose, because he is kind of a weirdo..
After “dealing” with that mess, I grabbed all of my belongings and poked his arm very lightly to say goodbye; didn’t actually want to say goodbye, just thought that way I could say I tried.
As soon as I walked out the door, I ran the fuck out of there! OMG! Dude! Never again!
I immediately contacted my main dick, drove as fast as I could to my currently number one guy. On my way there, I was just thinking how much I regretted meeting up with him. Like, why did I do it, you know? I just shouldn’t have even gotten in contact with him on the first place. Should’ve just let it be.
Lesson learned though, the stinky, disgusting way. If things don’t go right, if for whatever reason you stopped talking to an ex-lover, LEAVE IT THAT WAY! It wasn’t meant to be for you to keep fucking him/her, don’t waste your time. Just avoid it, okay? (Unless you’re really horny) Not even worth it!

Ps. FYI, My vans survived.

Advertisements

Let’s talk about Tinder

Tinder! Everyone know’s about it, has used it, or know’s someone that does. It’s fun, I’m not gonna lie, I do have more fun just reading the guys profile’s than meeting up with them; I get anxious and cancel dates frequently or I just stretch them a lot and they end up hating me.

So the last Tinder date that I’ve been on was a couple of weeks ago in Ocean Beach. We talked for like a month before meeting up and that was because of me…postponing.
I live in Tijuana and Lenny (let’s name him like that for now) lives in San Diego. He knew that I lived in Tijuana, and that I was willing to cross the busiest border in the world to meet up with him, yeah, let’s make it sound dramatic. We planned this outing for a week, he was going to get off from work and go straight to Ocean Beach, and I would wait patiently for night to arrive, cross, and meet him over there. I packed a suitcase just in case, you know, things went well, lol…and just maybe, that way, I wouldn’t cross the border next morning to go to a job interview (Judge away! But I rather call myself as an opportunist).

Stole a bottle of wine from my mom, don’t worry she has plenty, and took off. Arrived at Ocean Beach, parked and waited for about ten minutes before he showed up. Then I saw him, we said hi to each other following with a big bear hug; very handsome dude, ain’t gonna lie. First turn off…he didn’t know where we should go! I thought it was fair for him to plan which bar to hit, because I crossed the pinche línea (freaking border), to see him! We were then on the search of this bar that his buddies from work recommended…not because it was a cool place for a date, but because they have cheap drinks! Don’t get me wrong, I would take anyone there because of that ’cause I’m a heavy drinker… But you just don’t say that to you’re date! EVER!

We sat at the bar and ordered a couple of drinks and he paid the first round. I always pay for the second round, but before doing so, I waited a little just to see how he would act…He didn’t have any cash on him! WTF? So here is a lil relapse of what had happened so far, I crossed the border, headed to Ocean Beach, he took me to the cheapest bar, and didn’t even have money on him. Men, if you don’t have money, think of other stuff to do. If you wanna take a girl out for a drink, go to the bank and get some cash! Oh, and by the way, he’s a 36 year old man.

Conversation was great, I actually had a good time talking to him and getting to know him a little bit more. He walked me back to my car, but I really didn’t want to leave just yet, so I asked him if he was down to drink that bottle of wine at his place. We got there, he opened the bottle and poured a couple of glasses. His roommate was home, and because it’s a tiny apartment, we literally had to whisper for the next couple of hours. Well, guess who ended up drinking most of the wine? Oh yeah, that was me. He brought out his dab piece and we took a couple of dabs, I was high as hell. Good stuff. Then we proceeded to his bedroom, and ya’ll know what happened next.

On the very next day I went to my interview and nailed it. Hired right on the spot! Hell’s yeah! Had and orgasm and a job offer on the same day. That indeed was a good day.