Jimmy Nukes
04-04-2013, 07:13 PM
I couldn’t invite her over cos I pished the bed. The place stank. And I was too tired to start cleaning up. I was still half drunk as I stumbled to the mirror to inspect myself, inspect the damage. I got another message on my phone. The English was still broken but at least I understood what she said this time: “Yes is niche. And maybe more you never knows…”
A promise of sex after the exchange of a few text messages? Great. This lifted the gloom a bit anyway.
We met for a coffee the following Wednesday. I had seen some pictures of her on the dating website and she looked ok. She had nice eyes. But when she stood before me in all her flesh, I didn’t even notice the eyes. She was big, and in a way that I hadn’t anticipated, actually. I had put on a few pounds over the Xmas but I was relatively well build so it wasn’t prominent. Plus I was tall. She was squat. I tried to smile but I’m never good at trying to smile at the best of times and this wasn’t the best of times. I could feel my face contorting against its will and could only imagine how unnatural and perhaps scary I might have looked just then.
“Hi. Nice to meet you,” I got out, feeling the smile dissolving like an acid burn on my face.
“Hi,” she said. She smiled quite effortlessly, seemingly unaware of my ridiculousness.
She is German. And she has blonde hair. I told myself this in a bid to put a positive spin on it. German. Blonde. Come on, man, it’s not all that bad.
“Good to meet you,” she said.
“Likewise,” I said.
“Huh—“
“It’s good to meet you too,” I said.
We had coffee, chatted briefly. Her English was quite passable. And she was an animated speaker so I ended up just listening and nodding, which suited me fine. She suggested we go to mine to watch the “movie” we had agreed on before. We never discussed what movie it was. In fact I didn’t even have a movie.
At least I had gotten rid of the smell. I changed the sheets again so she wouldn’t get any odours. I’d sprayed the place and left the window open all day. The smell wasn’t noticeable anymore; not to me at least.
“No television?” she asked, scanning the bareness of my flat with something akin to fear.
“Oh, eh… no. I have the laptop,” I said, pointing to the small table by the window. “We can sit on the bed and I’ll put the laptop on the table.”
“Oh,” she said.
I made some tea. My flat is about ten feet by ten so it didn’t take her long to walk around before she sat down.
“Sugar?” I asked.
“Three please,” she said.
“Aye Three,” I muttered without thinking. I was too used to being on my own.
“What?”
“Nothing…What movie would you like to see?”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said.
Sex is a great example of people doing stuff for each-other, helping each other out. It’s the nadir of communism really when you think about it.
“Here,” I said offering her the tea.
I set up the laptop and drew the curtains so the room was good and dark. I squeezed in beside her on the narrow single bed.
“Would you like some cover,” I asked, drawing the duvet up over the two of us.
Notice how conscientious we are to each other’s needs during the sex process. Now, If we applied this….
“Do you have protection?” she asks, as she slides down the bed, her hands on my... about to put it into her mouth.
Magically, I produce a condom and tear the wrapper off with my teeth.
I made some more tea when we were finished. Sex seems gross immediately after you’ve just had it. Sometimes it does anyway. Especially with someone you don’t know. Someone you aren’t comfortable around.
I was just thinking of when I last had a drink. I had never known sex without a drink all through most of my twenties. Until I met my last girlfriend really. It all changed then. The first time we had sex we were both drunk though. I suppose it’s important to say that. When I last had drunk sex? It was that long ago that I have forgotten when it was…
“Here,” I said, handing her the tea. She reached for it, cover held close to her with her other hand. She tried to conceal her body, but it was useless. She could no more hide it than an elephant could hide behind a telephone box. But that was harsh. She wasn’t all that unattractive.
“So… Your plans today is?” she asked, one eyebrow cocked. She looked quite pretty actually.
The way she said it made me laugh.
She put her face up to mine. I kissed her on the head and got up from the bed, hurried over to the sink and poured the rest of the hot tea down the plughole, steam rising up and hitting me in the face. There was a definite strangeness in sharing the room with someone you don’t know. I started fixing things away.
“Oh, I‘ve got to be in work later,” I said.
She made a motion to get up. “No not yet. You can rest here a while if you like,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t.
I dropped on the bed in relief when she left, the sort of “thank God I’m finally alone” relief that habitually solitary people experience.
I checked my online account to see if I had some mail. None.
I was getting restless now. I tried to read but couldn’t get into the book at all, which was unusual for me as I love nothing better than to drown myself in words, the words of someone else, someone other than me. I got up and cleaned the place. I sat down on the bed, and then jumped up as quick. I started to go through the papers that were lying around. Most of them were on the floor between the end of the bed and the door. I’d have to push the door back in hard just to squeeze in when I entered into the flat. I always meant to move them or just get rid of them but I never did it. They’d been lying there for weeks, some for months. I scanned through them to see if there were any articles worth cutting out and keeping.
My phone started to vibrate. It was a message from the Uruguayan girl I met at a bar over the weekend. I was shocked and delighted at the same time. How are you she asks…do you remember me? Aye do I what? I thought.
A promise of sex after the exchange of a few text messages? Great. This lifted the gloom a bit anyway.
We met for a coffee the following Wednesday. I had seen some pictures of her on the dating website and she looked ok. She had nice eyes. But when she stood before me in all her flesh, I didn’t even notice the eyes. She was big, and in a way that I hadn’t anticipated, actually. I had put on a few pounds over the Xmas but I was relatively well build so it wasn’t prominent. Plus I was tall. She was squat. I tried to smile but I’m never good at trying to smile at the best of times and this wasn’t the best of times. I could feel my face contorting against its will and could only imagine how unnatural and perhaps scary I might have looked just then.
“Hi. Nice to meet you,” I got out, feeling the smile dissolving like an acid burn on my face.
“Hi,” she said. She smiled quite effortlessly, seemingly unaware of my ridiculousness.
She is German. And she has blonde hair. I told myself this in a bid to put a positive spin on it. German. Blonde. Come on, man, it’s not all that bad.
“Good to meet you,” she said.
“Likewise,” I said.
“Huh—“
“It’s good to meet you too,” I said.
We had coffee, chatted briefly. Her English was quite passable. And she was an animated speaker so I ended up just listening and nodding, which suited me fine. She suggested we go to mine to watch the “movie” we had agreed on before. We never discussed what movie it was. In fact I didn’t even have a movie.
At least I had gotten rid of the smell. I changed the sheets again so she wouldn’t get any odours. I’d sprayed the place and left the window open all day. The smell wasn’t noticeable anymore; not to me at least.
“No television?” she asked, scanning the bareness of my flat with something akin to fear.
“Oh, eh… no. I have the laptop,” I said, pointing to the small table by the window. “We can sit on the bed and I’ll put the laptop on the table.”
“Oh,” she said.
I made some tea. My flat is about ten feet by ten so it didn’t take her long to walk around before she sat down.
“Sugar?” I asked.
“Three please,” she said.
“Aye Three,” I muttered without thinking. I was too used to being on my own.
“What?”
“Nothing…What movie would you like to see?”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said.
Sex is a great example of people doing stuff for each-other, helping each other out. It’s the nadir of communism really when you think about it.
“Here,” I said offering her the tea.
I set up the laptop and drew the curtains so the room was good and dark. I squeezed in beside her on the narrow single bed.
“Would you like some cover,” I asked, drawing the duvet up over the two of us.
Notice how conscientious we are to each other’s needs during the sex process. Now, If we applied this….
“Do you have protection?” she asks, as she slides down the bed, her hands on my... about to put it into her mouth.
Magically, I produce a condom and tear the wrapper off with my teeth.
I made some more tea when we were finished. Sex seems gross immediately after you’ve just had it. Sometimes it does anyway. Especially with someone you don’t know. Someone you aren’t comfortable around.
I was just thinking of when I last had a drink. I had never known sex without a drink all through most of my twenties. Until I met my last girlfriend really. It all changed then. The first time we had sex we were both drunk though. I suppose it’s important to say that. When I last had drunk sex? It was that long ago that I have forgotten when it was…
“Here,” I said, handing her the tea. She reached for it, cover held close to her with her other hand. She tried to conceal her body, but it was useless. She could no more hide it than an elephant could hide behind a telephone box. But that was harsh. She wasn’t all that unattractive.
“So… Your plans today is?” she asked, one eyebrow cocked. She looked quite pretty actually.
The way she said it made me laugh.
She put her face up to mine. I kissed her on the head and got up from the bed, hurried over to the sink and poured the rest of the hot tea down the plughole, steam rising up and hitting me in the face. There was a definite strangeness in sharing the room with someone you don’t know. I started fixing things away.
“Oh, I‘ve got to be in work later,” I said.
She made a motion to get up. “No not yet. You can rest here a while if you like,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t.
I dropped on the bed in relief when she left, the sort of “thank God I’m finally alone” relief that habitually solitary people experience.
I checked my online account to see if I had some mail. None.
I was getting restless now. I tried to read but couldn’t get into the book at all, which was unusual for me as I love nothing better than to drown myself in words, the words of someone else, someone other than me. I got up and cleaned the place. I sat down on the bed, and then jumped up as quick. I started to go through the papers that were lying around. Most of them were on the floor between the end of the bed and the door. I’d have to push the door back in hard just to squeeze in when I entered into the flat. I always meant to move them or just get rid of them but I never did it. They’d been lying there for weeks, some for months. I scanned through them to see if there were any articles worth cutting out and keeping.
My phone started to vibrate. It was a message from the Uruguayan girl I met at a bar over the weekend. I was shocked and delighted at the same time. How are you she asks…do you remember me? Aye do I what? I thought.