|The mess on my carpet . . . - m4m - 42 (Raleigh)|
Date: 2009-07-05, 1:15AM EDT
This is what I get for bringing you, a 20-year-old college kid with "Daddy" issues, back to my place after you cruised me at a bar yesterday night: We started making out on the couch and you asked to go down on me. I had a rag handy for clean up, but when the crucial moment arrived and I gave you a courtesy tap on the head, you kept going and took it like a man. I thanked you for the service, walked you out to your car, and returned to find my entire load spit out onto the rug in front of the couch.
Really, dude? Look, I could care less if you spit or swallow. But do not, I repeat, DO NOT spit a four-day wad of ball batter all over a $600.00 rug from Pottery Barn, especially when the GF just bought it last week. I had to tell her that the dog puked up on it, but I don't think she's buying it. I know I probably deserve this Karma, but it's not cool, man. Not cool at all.
Let me just make sure I have this right. You're putting your GF's health at risk with DL, unprotected, gay, oral sex and you're appalled about someone else's character flaw for spitting up a "four-day wad of ball batter" on a Pottery Barn rug? Really, dude???
Robert and I were up at around 9:00 this morning, and after putting on a pot of coffee, I ran to the grocery store to get a couple of breakfast items, while Robert started a load of laundry, including our smoky clothes from last night's dancing. Bring on August 9th!
I left my house again at a little after 12:30 to pick up Joe to take him to the airport. Just around the corner from my house, on Kent Street, I found myself in line for a police checkpoint. I saw the guy in the car in front of me hand his driver's license and registration to the cop, so I got mine out to be ready.
License found. No problem. Registration, another story. While looking for it in its assigned spot in my wallet, I had to pull up to the cop. He watched me pick through the many cards there, and twice pull out my voter registration, which has the same coloring as my registration.
When I started to unfold it to make sure my registration wasn't stuck to it, or folded into it somehow, the cop said, "That's not it. Maybe it's in your glove box."
"I don't keep it in there," I said, but as I started to open the console between my seats to look there—where I thought it more likely to be—I thought I might have sounded a little short with the cop, so I reached over and opened the glove compartment just to humor him.
Voilà. There it was in the front, left corner closest to the driver. Then, I remembered that I'd put it in there when Casey (cpeel) was here, as he was driving my car to work every day. After being waved on by the cop, I put it back in my wallet in its proper slot.
I stopped at the Food Lion grocery store on the way back from the airport, where I saved $27 on an $82 order.
Once home, after a quick lunch of a sandwich and some chips, I lay down for a nap from 3:30 until 5:30.
When I got up, I got my stuff together for the gym, which closed at 7:00 today, and after being unable to find my wallet (which I really didn't need for the gym—unless of course I ran into another roadblock however unlikely), I filled my water bottle with ice and water, and then promptly left it at the house when I went out the door.
My ab muscles said hello to me (as in, "Yo, WTF???") toward the end of the 15 sets of 20 reps of crunches, and then I did 30 minutes of cardio on the elliptical machine. Once again, I listened to a Podrunner podcast at 135 BPM, but only burned 527 calories (as opposed to Friday's 550), as I didn't really keep up with the beat the entire way through. (Read: I got a little lazy.)
At home, I once again looked for my wallet—to no avail—and after calling Food Lion and being put on hold for far too long, I drove over to the store to see if it was there—as that was the last place I remember using it.
I was most delighted when the gentlemen at the customer service window opened the store safe, and I saw it sitting there on the shelf. I was even more delighted to find it containing everything I'd left in it.
I ran out to karaoke at Flex, where I stayed for about an hour-and-a-half. Walter's beautiful partner, Steven, was there and I spoke a little bit with him. Walter was in Atlanta.
I also spoke with Henry a little bit—always a pleasure running into him. I also saw Ben tonight, whom I haven't seen in a while.
There was some drama around this guy who came in at close to 11:15 and tried to sign up for karaoke. They had just collected all of the song books, as there were enough names on the list already that by they time they all finished singing, karaoke would be over.
This guy made a stink about not being able to sign up, asked to talk to Brigner (the bar manager), and he had them bring a book back out for him from which to sign up. As I said, drama.
Though I didn't stay around (I left about 10 minutes after that), I think it would be funny if he were the very last person, and they were putting up the bar stools to an empty bar when he finally did sing. Just call me Felix. Meeeooowww!
I will be asking Kurt (the bartender) or David (the karaoke emcee) what that was all about the next time I see either of them. It's important. Really, dude!