The other day I was hanging around with Pup when I got onto the subject of how okcupid has infinitely slim pickings where we are “It’s about 98% gross dudes,” I explained, “and then girls who aren’t interested in all my crap.” That crap being kink and poly.
I pulled up my account to demonstrate, when he pointed out a very cute girl with a high match percentage. “What about her?” he asked.
“Well, that’s new,” I said. “She’s probably not into poly girls or girls who aren’t just gay or into kink.” We opened her profile. She was. “Well, I’m not messaging her,” I said. “I’m shy.”
Pup patted my knee. “You’re going to message her right now.”
I kept insisting there would be some osort of a catch and went through another page of her questions. Eventually, Pup lost patience and said, “you’re messaging her in the next five seconds or I’m giving you a beating.”
I huffed. “Maybe I want a beating.”
“You’re getting a beating either way,” he said. “It’s up to you whether it’s one you enjoy or one that doesn’t stop until you start crying.”
I ended up sending her one of the most awkward, shy, stilted little messages. I even admitted in the message that it was awkward, shy and stilted. But, she responded really warmly and we exchanged phone numbers. Now, we’re getting coffee today.
Heh heh. They made out once. I don’t have a preference either way about it. It would be kind of sexy, yeah. But I would also want to get involved. I like attention.
Pup’s into men, but Sir’s just a little heteroflexible. So I don’t know.
I’m alive, I promise. I’m just drawing to the end of a very, very busy time. Some big things have been crossed off the checklist, some bigger things yet to come.
The regularly scheduled stuff will resume over here super soon.
Me: I’m just running back to my place because Pup left some things of his there.
Pup’s Roommate: Where do you live?
Me: Oh just like on [address about a block away].
Pup’s Roommate: Wait, you live that close?
Me: Yeah, that’s how I end up here so often.
Pup’s Roommate: Is that why you’re here so early in the morning sometimes? I was wondering how you’re in the kitchen at like seven AM sometimes. But I guess you can just walk over so that kind of makes sense.
Me: No, ah. That’s because I, you know, slept here.
Just fyi Sir sent me a postcard to surprise me during my stressful thesis-finishing crunch time and signed it “xoxo Daddy” so there’s no denying it now.
