I haven't cried. Indian Girl has moved away and I haven't cried. She cried. Machu Pichu cried. I still haven't cried. Weird. And I don't know why.
I've been feeling drained this last week. Sure as shit, life has been giving me the roller coaster. MP said a good cry would do wonders, but what can you do if you can't cry? I guess normally that is when you would turn to a good friend. Ironically, the good friend leaving is causing some depression that would require a good friend. Damn catch 22.
Indian Girl was a major catalyst in my life. I guess the fact that she knew she would only be here for 3 months made her take full advantage of every minute. To an outsider, it would have looked like she was burning the candle at both ends. However, I think she just compressed into 3 months what some people take 3 years to experience.
Adventuring, exploring, beaches, swimming, snorkeling, hiking, dining, making friends, meeting people, volunteering, playing, doggies, dancing, drinking, partying, relaxing, walking, jogging, romancing, and having sex. That's the kind of stuff IG did. But she didn't do it all herself. She took MP and me along for the ride. And I think I got to experience more in three months than I did in three years.
So today I've been depressed. The sad thing for me is that I'm not the type to go out and share my problems with anyone. Normally IG and MP would pick up that I'm not in a right state of mind, and would offer to talk, cheer me up, or just give me a hug. Stupid catch 22 though. IG isn't here, and if I see MP, it would just be a load that she doesn't need. I think I should have just screamed out, "FUCK!," in my helmet today.
Yeah, I rode my motorcycle today. I think I just wanted some time by myself. Can't get more by myself than in a helmet going 60+ mph. Then I did something I never did before. When I got to the canyon lookout, I got a soda, sat under a tree, and listened to Hallelujah on my mp3 player. Did I feel better? I really don't know. It did make me want to write though. So now I'm writing.
This morning I watched City of Angels again. It's about an angel who becomes human to experience everything human, including love. Then his love dies shortly after they get together. The angel was wracked with depression until another angel asked that if he knew this would happen, would he have become human. He then realizes that even though he was hurting now, what he experienced was worth the world to him, and he was able to begin healing.
So even though it feels like I have a big, empty hole in my heart, that's just an illusion. It's a false pain that will pass. Because the truth is that meeting IG has stuffed my heart with so many good things, my heart is now bigger. And the empty feeling is not really emptiness. It's just my heart waiting to accept more.
And pass me the low-sodium shoyu.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
The Last Supper
***Indian Girl is moving away!***
I met Indian Girl on December 28 or 29. One of those days. She had just moved to the island and was looking for friends to show her around. You see, she has the kind of job that takes her to strange places where she gets really physical with clients, and sometimes even have them naked. So she was going to be here for 3 months and wanted to enjoy herself.
At first I was shy. A bit quiet. But later I started opening up, and we started hitting it off like gangbusters. In fact, we liked each other so much, that we have one of those high school girl-like pacts. If she's not married by 40, I have to inseminate her. Now whether it will be through direct injection or a turkey baster is still up for negotiations.
I've been practically all over the entire island with IG. Tons of beaches, all the tourist spots, several hiking trails, etc. We've also been to many restaurants, to the detriment of my wallet. We're pretty much close enough that we know about each other's sex lives. Heck, she knows, from my experience, not to point a man's loaded weapon at his own face. Dangerous.
But now she's leaving at the end of the month. Machu Pichu and I have been telling her to come back on a new contract. IG has been telling us to go visit her... but I think she's going to end up in Hicksville, Shithole. I think an Asian guy like me would stick out worse than a skinhead in a synagogue.
As part of the events leading up to her departure, IG, Machu Pichu, and I, planned to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. IG was going to get ready at MP's place after work, and I was going to meet them there at 4:30 PM.
At 4:00, I was out of the shower, clean shaven (top and bottom, haha. Don't ask.), and getting dressed, when my phone rings. It was MP on IG's phone. "Hey, we need you to pick up some alcohol on your way over."
I got to the grocery store's booze section and I called MP back. "I'm looking for the Boone's Farm, but I can't find it." MP had me searching high and low, not because she's a control freak, but because I suck at wine selection. I had to read the labels of hundreds of bottles. She ignored me, then randomly chose some brand she heard of. At the checkout, the cashier made the guy in front of me donate to Muscular Dystrophy. When it was my turn, she tried to give me the money. WTF?
I got to MP's place and I found 2 tipsy women. MP poured me a glass of wine in a huge glass meant for lushes. I then had to stand in the bathroom while IG and MP applied makeup. I felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I did get to witness a makeup accident that turned MP in to a reverse blackface. Luckily she got it sorted out without taking another shower, which would have taken another hour.
"Just rub it off with a dry towel," IG suggested, "I do it all the time."
"You mean the towel I used to wipe off my naked body last time I was here," I asked.
"EEEEWWWWWWW!"
Yeah, thanks. I get that reaction a lot when women think of my naked body.
So while the girls got ready, and continued boozing (I stopped due to headaches), we just chatted like little girls. We talked about the usual things. You know. Sex, clothes, jobs, that kind of stuff. The two girls were also lamenting the fact that since they got to know each other, they've been gaining weight. They sure as shit did not like it when I explained that since meeting IG, my waist has gone from a 34 to a 31, and my shirt size went from L/XL to M/L. They did say that I better not get too skinny lest I end up looking like Riley. They also said that Riley is kinda cute, but needs to get some kind of personality, and needs to grow a pair so he can actually converse during dinner. I just got my dog's balls removed, so I guess he can have those. They were shocked when I explained that Riley rarely shuts up when he's out with the guys.
"I bet they not going bring my Pepsi. They always forget my Pepsi. You see that? The guy didn't even write it down. They going forget it. I never get my Pepsi," said Riley all through an hour long lunch ad nauseam.
Since I was the one who drank the least, I got chosen as the driver. It was like a scene out of Animal House. We all piled into my Yaris (chicks dig fuel efficiency). I swear I could hear some crazy frat boys yelling, "to the Food King!"
We got to the BeachHouse. It's a restaurant right on the beach in the Poipu area. Decent food with nice atmosphere and an incredible view of the sunset. Since MP was a concierge, she was really on the ball and FAILED TO MAKE RESERVATIONS. But no problem. We got there just a few minutes after they opened for dinner, which means we got one of the few tables that were up for grabs. IG and MP immediately started with the alcohol. I was the tea-totler designated driver, so I had a virgin Lava Flow.
We were drinking and talking, and we took over an hour just to order our food. IG's drink tasted like vomit, so MP, of course, said something to our waitress Christina, and got IG a new drink. When our appetizers arrived, the sun was nearly setting, so we went outside and took a bunch of pictures. We beat the tourists out there since they were waiting for the sun to touch the water. So basically, we kind of looked stupid in front of people we will never see again. Isn't that fun?
Then we went in and started on our appetizers. Then the sun reached the water and we went out again. Sucks for the people by the exit. I think IG actually bumped a guy each time we went in and out.
Our dinners were not bad. My entree came with asparagus. I guess my pee smells bad now. IG had fish. She always has fish. She likes fish. But, is that fish fishy? She doesn't like fishy fish. Her fish needs to not smell fishy. It also has to be really cooked fish. She doesn't like raw fish. Raw fish is too fishy and smells too much like fish. No surprise then that she thinks I'm gross because I like to go down on women.
Dinner was followed up with desert. It was some kind of chocolate soufflé with vanilla ice cream. For some reason, the manager also gave us a chocolate peanut butter ice cream dessert thingy gratis. I think MP must have batted her eyes at the guy. We always seem to get free stuff when she's around. Speaking of free stuff, MP tried to pimp me off to the waitress. Of course, I didn't know what they were talking about at first, and when I did figure out what she was doing, it was too late. Fortunately, for the waitress, she was already married to the manager. Now MP's new plan is for us to hit the bar on the military base to find me a GI Jane.
But back to the dessert. IG and MP both had orgasms from the first bite. That put me last in the race again. Fuck. IG wanted to take one of the desserts under the table. When Christina came around to check on us, the girls were like, "could we be left alone?" "Oh God! Oh God!" "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." I, on the other hand, was just munching away. Sometimes it takes me hours to finish a meal.
After two and a half hours in the restaurant, we were ready to leave. When the valet pulled up with my car, I paid the guy and proceeded to get in. MP stood by the passenger door with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. "Um, hello? Door?"
"WTF woman? You think this was a date?"
IG cracked up then kindly opened the door for her date.
The original plan was for us to go to Tree's Lounge. However, that bar was a bit far from where we were, so we went to the jazz bar Stevenson's Library. The jazz bar is located inside the Grand Hyatt, and when we got there, I wondered out loud if my friend Lauren was working at the front desk. This would later bite me in the ass.
The bar was dead, so we just had a beer each, talked a bit, then left. As we were leaving, I was looking at the concierge. I was thinking that MP could try for a job there since she doesn't like where she's working at now. The girls thought I wanted to hit on the concierge. When I tried to explain that I wasn't going to hit on the concierge, they then thought I wanted to hit on the girl at the front desk. Sigh. Women.
Back at MP's place, we downloaded the pictures we took on IG's camera to MP's computer. Of course we were all crowded around this one tiny laptop, like girls at a slumber party, trying to see the pictures. Then we sent them to my email.
Now comes the freaky part. I ended up looking at pictures of cocks with IG and MP. It's not something guys normally do. I mean, if looking at cocks would make my lover (female. Nice try you assholes.) get off, then by all means, I'm for it. But you don't normally look at cocks with your girl friends. And it was all INDIAN GIRL'S fault! Dirty, dirty girl. She told MP about the cock pics on craigslist, so MP wanted to see them.
"See? Have you ever seen a cock that curved down like that," IG asked.
"I have. But this one doesn't look like it's curving like that. It just looks like he isn't fully hard yet," MP replied.
"I don't know. I've never seen one like that. Might be kind of weird," said IG.
"I was with a guy whose cock curved downwards like a C," MP proclaimed.
"How the hell would that work? How would you have sex," IG asked.
"Well, when we had sex normally, it would be pushing into me on the bottom-side. But if I turned around with my ass in his face, it would work better... felt pretty good too," said MP.
"WTF!? Hello? I'm still here. Awkward!," Nonwheezer said with his hands held palm up, shoulder height in the universal WTF pose.
OK, so on to the pictures. My fingers are getting tired of typing. I posted a preview of a few pictures to my nerd group before going to bed and these are the replies I got when I woke up.
Minnesota Girl: Man, Hawaii is beautiful!
Lecherous Old Man: Twin peaks everywhere.
SUX IT Guy: IG could make a good living doing pr0n, IMO.
So here they are. Captions follow the pics.
I just got lei'd! And I didn't have time to finish putting on my pants.
"My drink tastes like vomit," said IG in a cheerful manner.
I came here one time and I ordered this drink and the setting sun shone right through it. It was beautiful. Hic! I think I need another.
Guess what these are. Never leave your camera unattended when you go to the bathroom.
Nonwheezer. "Oh, he looks good in this pic." Thanks girls.
OK, stand there. Now move 6 inches forward. Turn your head to look at me. Now smile. (MP micromanaging IG)
Wait. I think I have the flash setting wrong. Let me try this... click. Oh, hey. It came out pretty cute. (Nonwheezer)
Machu Pichu, Nonwheezer, Indian Girl
IG tends to be prim and proper sometimes. I could have sworn I heard her say, "you touch my ass and I'll kill you."
Contrasted by MP, who tends to have a higher blood alcohol content.
What are you two, on a date?
I met Indian Girl on December 28 or 29. One of those days. She had just moved to the island and was looking for friends to show her around. You see, she has the kind of job that takes her to strange places where she gets really physical with clients, and sometimes even have them naked. So she was going to be here for 3 months and wanted to enjoy herself.
At first I was shy. A bit quiet. But later I started opening up, and we started hitting it off like gangbusters. In fact, we liked each other so much, that we have one of those high school girl-like pacts. If she's not married by 40, I have to inseminate her. Now whether it will be through direct injection or a turkey baster is still up for negotiations.
I've been practically all over the entire island with IG. Tons of beaches, all the tourist spots, several hiking trails, etc. We've also been to many restaurants, to the detriment of my wallet. We're pretty much close enough that we know about each other's sex lives. Heck, she knows, from my experience, not to point a man's loaded weapon at his own face. Dangerous.
But now she's leaving at the end of the month. Machu Pichu and I have been telling her to come back on a new contract. IG has been telling us to go visit her... but I think she's going to end up in Hicksville, Shithole. I think an Asian guy like me would stick out worse than a skinhead in a synagogue.
As part of the events leading up to her departure, IG, Machu Pichu, and I, planned to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. IG was going to get ready at MP's place after work, and I was going to meet them there at 4:30 PM.
At 4:00, I was out of the shower, clean shaven (top and bottom, haha. Don't ask.), and getting dressed, when my phone rings. It was MP on IG's phone. "Hey, we need you to pick up some alcohol on your way over."
I got to the grocery store's booze section and I called MP back. "I'm looking for the Boone's Farm, but I can't find it." MP had me searching high and low, not because she's a control freak, but because I suck at wine selection. I had to read the labels of hundreds of bottles. She ignored me, then randomly chose some brand she heard of. At the checkout, the cashier made the guy in front of me donate to Muscular Dystrophy. When it was my turn, she tried to give me the money. WTF?
I got to MP's place and I found 2 tipsy women. MP poured me a glass of wine in a huge glass meant for lushes. I then had to stand in the bathroom while IG and MP applied makeup. I felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I did get to witness a makeup accident that turned MP in to a reverse blackface. Luckily she got it sorted out without taking another shower, which would have taken another hour.
"Just rub it off with a dry towel," IG suggested, "I do it all the time."
"You mean the towel I used to wipe off my naked body last time I was here," I asked.
"EEEEWWWWWWW!"
Yeah, thanks. I get that reaction a lot when women think of my naked body.
So while the girls got ready, and continued boozing (I stopped due to headaches), we just chatted like little girls. We talked about the usual things. You know. Sex, clothes, jobs, that kind of stuff. The two girls were also lamenting the fact that since they got to know each other, they've been gaining weight. They sure as shit did not like it when I explained that since meeting IG, my waist has gone from a 34 to a 31, and my shirt size went from L/XL to M/L. They did say that I better not get too skinny lest I end up looking like Riley. They also said that Riley is kinda cute, but needs to get some kind of personality, and needs to grow a pair so he can actually converse during dinner. I just got my dog's balls removed, so I guess he can have those. They were shocked when I explained that Riley rarely shuts up when he's out with the guys.
"I bet they not going bring my Pepsi. They always forget my Pepsi. You see that? The guy didn't even write it down. They going forget it. I never get my Pepsi," said Riley all through an hour long lunch ad nauseam.
Since I was the one who drank the least, I got chosen as the driver. It was like a scene out of Animal House. We all piled into my Yaris (chicks dig fuel efficiency). I swear I could hear some crazy frat boys yelling, "to the Food King!"
We got to the BeachHouse. It's a restaurant right on the beach in the Poipu area. Decent food with nice atmosphere and an incredible view of the sunset. Since MP was a concierge, she was really on the ball and FAILED TO MAKE RESERVATIONS. But no problem. We got there just a few minutes after they opened for dinner, which means we got one of the few tables that were up for grabs. IG and MP immediately started with the alcohol. I was the tea-totler designated driver, so I had a virgin Lava Flow.
We were drinking and talking, and we took over an hour just to order our food. IG's drink tasted like vomit, so MP, of course, said something to our waitress Christina, and got IG a new drink. When our appetizers arrived, the sun was nearly setting, so we went outside and took a bunch of pictures. We beat the tourists out there since they were waiting for the sun to touch the water. So basically, we kind of looked stupid in front of people we will never see again. Isn't that fun?
Then we went in and started on our appetizers. Then the sun reached the water and we went out again. Sucks for the people by the exit. I think IG actually bumped a guy each time we went in and out.
Our dinners were not bad. My entree came with asparagus. I guess my pee smells bad now. IG had fish. She always has fish. She likes fish. But, is that fish fishy? She doesn't like fishy fish. Her fish needs to not smell fishy. It also has to be really cooked fish. She doesn't like raw fish. Raw fish is too fishy and smells too much like fish. No surprise then that she thinks I'm gross because I like to go down on women.
Dinner was followed up with desert. It was some kind of chocolate soufflé with vanilla ice cream. For some reason, the manager also gave us a chocolate peanut butter ice cream dessert thingy gratis. I think MP must have batted her eyes at the guy. We always seem to get free stuff when she's around. Speaking of free stuff, MP tried to pimp me off to the waitress. Of course, I didn't know what they were talking about at first, and when I did figure out what she was doing, it was too late. Fortunately, for the waitress, she was already married to the manager. Now MP's new plan is for us to hit the bar on the military base to find me a GI Jane.
But back to the dessert. IG and MP both had orgasms from the first bite. That put me last in the race again. Fuck. IG wanted to take one of the desserts under the table. When Christina came around to check on us, the girls were like, "could we be left alone?" "Oh God! Oh God!" "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." I, on the other hand, was just munching away. Sometimes it takes me hours to finish a meal.
After two and a half hours in the restaurant, we were ready to leave. When the valet pulled up with my car, I paid the guy and proceeded to get in. MP stood by the passenger door with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. "Um, hello? Door?"
"WTF woman? You think this was a date?"
IG cracked up then kindly opened the door for her date.
The original plan was for us to go to Tree's Lounge. However, that bar was a bit far from where we were, so we went to the jazz bar Stevenson's Library. The jazz bar is located inside the Grand Hyatt, and when we got there, I wondered out loud if my friend Lauren was working at the front desk. This would later bite me in the ass.
The bar was dead, so we just had a beer each, talked a bit, then left. As we were leaving, I was looking at the concierge. I was thinking that MP could try for a job there since she doesn't like where she's working at now. The girls thought I wanted to hit on the concierge. When I tried to explain that I wasn't going to hit on the concierge, they then thought I wanted to hit on the girl at the front desk. Sigh. Women.
Back at MP's place, we downloaded the pictures we took on IG's camera to MP's computer. Of course we were all crowded around this one tiny laptop, like girls at a slumber party, trying to see the pictures. Then we sent them to my email.
Now comes the freaky part. I ended up looking at pictures of cocks with IG and MP. It's not something guys normally do. I mean, if looking at cocks would make my lover (female. Nice try you assholes.) get off, then by all means, I'm for it. But you don't normally look at cocks with your girl friends. And it was all INDIAN GIRL'S fault! Dirty, dirty girl. She told MP about the cock pics on craigslist, so MP wanted to see them.
"See? Have you ever seen a cock that curved down like that," IG asked.
"I have. But this one doesn't look like it's curving like that. It just looks like he isn't fully hard yet," MP replied.
"I don't know. I've never seen one like that. Might be kind of weird," said IG.
"I was with a guy whose cock curved downwards like a C," MP proclaimed.
"How the hell would that work? How would you have sex," IG asked.
"Well, when we had sex normally, it would be pushing into me on the bottom-side. But if I turned around with my ass in his face, it would work better... felt pretty good too," said MP.
"WTF!? Hello? I'm still here. Awkward!," Nonwheezer said with his hands held palm up, shoulder height in the universal WTF pose.
OK, so on to the pictures. My fingers are getting tired of typing. I posted a preview of a few pictures to my nerd group before going to bed and these are the replies I got when I woke up.
Minnesota Girl: Man, Hawaii is beautiful!
Lecherous Old Man: Twin peaks everywhere.
SUX IT Guy: IG could make a good living doing pr0n, IMO.
So here they are. Captions follow the pics.
I just got lei'd! And I didn't have time to finish putting on my pants.
"My drink tastes like vomit," said IG in a cheerful manner.
I came here one time and I ordered this drink and the setting sun shone right through it. It was beautiful. Hic! I think I need another.
Guess what these are. Never leave your camera unattended when you go to the bathroom.
Nonwheezer. "Oh, he looks good in this pic." Thanks girls.
OK, stand there. Now move 6 inches forward. Turn your head to look at me. Now smile. (MP micromanaging IG)
Wait. I think I have the flash setting wrong. Let me try this... click. Oh, hey. It came out pretty cute. (Nonwheezer)
Machu Pichu, Nonwheezer, Indian Girl
IG tends to be prim and proper sometimes. I could have sworn I heard her say, "you touch my ass and I'll kill you."
Contrasted by MP, who tends to have a higher blood alcohol content.
What are you two, on a date?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Wax On, Wax Off
OK, this started as a post on a forum, but I think it's safe to post this as a blog entry. TG= Tattoo Girl= an incredible blonde. Machu Pichu= another blonde that likes to barge her way into my life.
********************
I made the appointment for wax and massages for 2:00 today (Saturday). I went bike riding in the morning since it's been nearly 2 months since I rode on the mountain.
I picked up TG around 1:45 and we headed down to the spa. The wax girl was waiting for us. She was an attractive hapa (half Japanese, half white) girl. She led us to another cabin where the waxing stuff was located. I laid on a table and the girl described what she was going to do. TG agreed with the girl's recommendations, so I said, "well since she's the one dating me, I'll go with what she said."
The waxing wasn't so bad. The only part that hurt was when the girl used tweezers. She also noticed TG's back tattoo and they started talking about it. Turns out the wax girl has cherry blossoms tattooed on her back.
"Am I the only one without a tattoo," I asked.
"Yeah, it's pretty rare now days to not have a tattoo. That just makes you unique," replied TG.
TG was pleased with how the waxing turned out. The wax girl also said it looked good. I guess they're right. It does make my eyes look bigger, which helps since I got them small asian eyes. I just lament the loss of my Sonny Chiba brows.
After that, we were led to the massage area. Since I requested a couple's massage, they had set up two massage tables on the lanai of the massage cabin. The masseuses instructed us to disrobe, put on a sarong, and lay on the table face down. They said that if we wanted our hips and gluts massaged, we should remove our undergarments. Then they left. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom. When I got back, TG was already undressed and on the table. She was all smiles as I did a little strip tease in front of her. When I got to my underwear, I asked if I should get my gluts massaged. She pretty much said that since we were here... So I dropped the boxer-briefs. I think TG dug that. I grabbed the sarong and wrapped it around me and jumped on the table. I didn't mind being naked in front of TG, but the blinds around the lanai covered from the roof to about waist high. Anyone in the area could see my willy. (TG tricked me into thinking she was nude. She kept her panties on. Minx.)
The massage itself was good. I can see why some people go to spas often. When it was done, I was super mellow mellow. Kind of like floating. And no, I did not need a happy ending. In fact, it didn't feel sexual at all.
Then we went riding to Koloa, and then TG suggested we catch the matinée since it was too early for dinner.
It was in Koloa that TG confessed. She had looked up and peeked when the girl was massaging my ass. She said it looked hot. I think the massage went to her brain. I've seen my ass in a mirror. I wasn't impressed. As she looked at my ass being massaged, the masseuse looked at her and winked. When she told me that, I felt degraded like a piece of meat. Which means I loved it, of course heh.
We were too early for the movie we wanted to see, so we headed to Starbucks for a drink. We chatted a bit and shared a cookie, then we headed back to the cinema.
We watched Horton Hears a Who. Is there anything cuter than TG laughing in the movies? The movie was also pretty good. I thought Steve Carell did an excellent job. Now I wonder if I can convince/trick TG into watching Indiana Jones and Speed Racer with me.
After the movie we went to dinner. TG suggested Mexican. I said I never had it, but I'd try it. Funny thing is that when Machu Pichu requested Mexican on one of our lunches, I flat out declined and went for Korean instead. Guess that shows how they rank on the Nonwheezer-scale. hehe. TG, if you don't hear from me, check MP's trunk.
Turns out I did have Mexican food before. I guess I just misunderstood the whole Mexican food thing. I figured it would be Mexican CUISINE. Much like how you can have Chinese take-out, and Chinese cuisine. But TG put me straight. Mexican take-out and cuisine is the same thing. And to fully immerse myself in the Mexican culture, I had a Corona.
Back at TG's place, I drank nearly a gallon of water. I don't know what the deal was. I think the beer/burrito combo made me thirsty. We sat down and watched an independent movie called Close Your Eyes. It was meh. But having a warm TG snuggled up next to me made the movie more enjoyable than Star Wars: A New Hope, a movie TG confessed never seeing all the way through.
Did I mention I took every opportunity to smell TG's hair? Yeah, I'm a freak like that, but even after 9 hours, her hair smelled divine.
Oh, TG owes me lunch.
********************
I made the appointment for wax and massages for 2:00 today (Saturday). I went bike riding in the morning since it's been nearly 2 months since I rode on the mountain.
I picked up TG around 1:45 and we headed down to the spa. The wax girl was waiting for us. She was an attractive hapa (half Japanese, half white) girl. She led us to another cabin where the waxing stuff was located. I laid on a table and the girl described what she was going to do. TG agreed with the girl's recommendations, so I said, "well since she's the one dating me, I'll go with what she said."
The waxing wasn't so bad. The only part that hurt was when the girl used tweezers. She also noticed TG's back tattoo and they started talking about it. Turns out the wax girl has cherry blossoms tattooed on her back.
"Am I the only one without a tattoo," I asked.
"Yeah, it's pretty rare now days to not have a tattoo. That just makes you unique," replied TG.
TG was pleased with how the waxing turned out. The wax girl also said it looked good. I guess they're right. It does make my eyes look bigger, which helps since I got them small asian eyes. I just lament the loss of my Sonny Chiba brows.
After that, we were led to the massage area. Since I requested a couple's massage, they had set up two massage tables on the lanai of the massage cabin. The masseuses instructed us to disrobe, put on a sarong, and lay on the table face down. They said that if we wanted our hips and gluts massaged, we should remove our undergarments. Then they left. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom. When I got back, TG was already undressed and on the table. She was all smiles as I did a little strip tease in front of her. When I got to my underwear, I asked if I should get my gluts massaged. She pretty much said that since we were here... So I dropped the boxer-briefs. I think TG dug that. I grabbed the sarong and wrapped it around me and jumped on the table. I didn't mind being naked in front of TG, but the blinds around the lanai covered from the roof to about waist high. Anyone in the area could see my willy. (TG tricked me into thinking she was nude. She kept her panties on. Minx.)
The massage itself was good. I can see why some people go to spas often. When it was done, I was super mellow mellow. Kind of like floating. And no, I did not need a happy ending. In fact, it didn't feel sexual at all.
Then we went riding to Koloa, and then TG suggested we catch the matinée since it was too early for dinner.
It was in Koloa that TG confessed. She had looked up and peeked when the girl was massaging my ass. She said it looked hot. I think the massage went to her brain. I've seen my ass in a mirror. I wasn't impressed. As she looked at my ass being massaged, the masseuse looked at her and winked. When she told me that, I felt degraded like a piece of meat. Which means I loved it, of course heh.
We were too early for the movie we wanted to see, so we headed to Starbucks for a drink. We chatted a bit and shared a cookie, then we headed back to the cinema.
We watched Horton Hears a Who. Is there anything cuter than TG laughing in the movies? The movie was also pretty good. I thought Steve Carell did an excellent job. Now I wonder if I can convince/trick TG into watching Indiana Jones and Speed Racer with me.
After the movie we went to dinner. TG suggested Mexican. I said I never had it, but I'd try it. Funny thing is that when Machu Pichu requested Mexican on one of our lunches, I flat out declined and went for Korean instead. Guess that shows how they rank on the Nonwheezer-scale. hehe. TG, if you don't hear from me, check MP's trunk.
Turns out I did have Mexican food before. I guess I just misunderstood the whole Mexican food thing. I figured it would be Mexican CUISINE. Much like how you can have Chinese take-out, and Chinese cuisine. But TG put me straight. Mexican take-out and cuisine is the same thing. And to fully immerse myself in the Mexican culture, I had a Corona.
Back at TG's place, I drank nearly a gallon of water. I don't know what the deal was. I think the beer/burrito combo made me thirsty. We sat down and watched an independent movie called Close Your Eyes. It was meh. But having a warm TG snuggled up next to me made the movie more enjoyable than Star Wars: A New Hope, a movie TG confessed never seeing all the way through.
Did I mention I took every opportunity to smell TG's hair? Yeah, I'm a freak like that, but even after 9 hours, her hair smelled divine.
Oh, TG owes me lunch.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Wisdom of the Hike
(Cue Indiana Jones theme)
Squiggy, the intrepid explorer, has gone where many men have gone before. However, his journeys have been unique in the history of mankind since it was the first time, in all known time, that Squiggy, himself, has actually gone somewhere. OK, enough of the inane babel.
I have hiked Waipoo, Kamuela, Sleeping Giant, Mahaulepu, Nualolo, Awaawapuhi, Kaapoko Tunnel, and Hanakapiai.
Through my adventures I have learned many lessons; lessons I will share with you today.
1. No matter where on the island you start, the trail will be uphill. Both ways.
2. No one likes Honey and Oats granola bars.
3. My cheapo, ill-fitting, Famous Footwear cross trainers have more grip than most hiking boots.
4. Black socks hide mud.
5. Girls: you can't beat them; you can't push them off a cliff.
6. Factor in another 120 minutes to your hike if you have a girl with a digital camera.
7. Spam musubi beat tuna bagels.
8. When a girl whines 2 hours into a 9 hour hike, sing a song inside your head.
9. Hiking sticks are for sissies.
10. If it has thorns, my friend, Indian Girl, will find it.
11. Hiking without reaching your destination is like sex without an orgasm. You get sweaty and have a wonderful time, but then you wonder how the ending could have been and you want to try it again.
12. Pack enough fluids and food for 1.5 people and carry extra footwear so a girl wearing slippers (flipflops) can show you up on the trail.
13. I suck at Thumb War.
14. Smaller people have greater stamina on the trail and they are easier to push off a cliff.
15. I pee 4 times as much as the next person.
16. Check the temperature of any body of water you plan to jump in. You don't need free gender reassignment.
17. If girls dare you to go skinny dipping by saying, "confidence is a big plus," don't listen. See #16 for what would be a BIG MINUS.
18. Don't try to catch falling kids.
19. Even after 5 hours of hiking, you too can find the energy to sprint to save your friends if they're in danger.
20. Before attempting #19, make sure your friends are really in danger and not just teasing a pig.
21. Pretty girls still smell great after hiking all day.
22. If a girl can tease you on a trail, she will.
23. Hike behind a pretty girl so you can watch her bum.
23A. And so she can't see you huffing and puffing.
23B. And so she can't smell you.
24. Addendum to 23: When you look at a girl's bum, you will trip on a rock.
25. I've sold my soul many times over to various devils and demons for hot water and soap.
Squiggy, the intrepid explorer, has gone where many men have gone before. However, his journeys have been unique in the history of mankind since it was the first time, in all known time, that Squiggy, himself, has actually gone somewhere. OK, enough of the inane babel.
I have hiked Waipoo, Kamuela, Sleeping Giant, Mahaulepu, Nualolo, Awaawapuhi, Kaapoko Tunnel, and Hanakapiai.
Through my adventures I have learned many lessons; lessons I will share with you today.
1. No matter where on the island you start, the trail will be uphill. Both ways.
2. No one likes Honey and Oats granola bars.
3. My cheapo, ill-fitting, Famous Footwear cross trainers have more grip than most hiking boots.
4. Black socks hide mud.
5. Girls: you can't beat them; you can't push them off a cliff.
6. Factor in another 120 minutes to your hike if you have a girl with a digital camera.
7. Spam musubi beat tuna bagels.
8. When a girl whines 2 hours into a 9 hour hike, sing a song inside your head.
9. Hiking sticks are for sissies.
10. If it has thorns, my friend, Indian Girl, will find it.
11. Hiking without reaching your destination is like sex without an orgasm. You get sweaty and have a wonderful time, but then you wonder how the ending could have been and you want to try it again.
12. Pack enough fluids and food for 1.5 people and carry extra footwear so a girl wearing slippers (flipflops) can show you up on the trail.
13. I suck at Thumb War.
14. Smaller people have greater stamina on the trail and they are easier to push off a cliff.
15. I pee 4 times as much as the next person.
16. Check the temperature of any body of water you plan to jump in. You don't need free gender reassignment.
17. If girls dare you to go skinny dipping by saying, "confidence is a big plus," don't listen. See #16 for what would be a BIG MINUS.
18. Don't try to catch falling kids.
19. Even after 5 hours of hiking, you too can find the energy to sprint to save your friends if they're in danger.
20. Before attempting #19, make sure your friends are really in danger and not just teasing a pig.
21. Pretty girls still smell great after hiking all day.
22. If a girl can tease you on a trail, she will.
23. Hike behind a pretty girl so you can watch her bum.
23A. And so she can't see you huffing and puffing.
23B. And so she can't smell you.
24. Addendum to 23: When you look at a girl's bum, you will trip on a rock.
25. I've sold my soul many times over to various devils and demons for hot water and soap.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Nonscents
I went to the mall today. Yeah, I'm still under the weather, but I still had to go. I needed to pick up a gift for a grab bag. I ended up wandering into Macy's and decided I should check out some cologne.
I haven't bought cologne in a while, but I did look some up on the old intraweb. Lo and behold, several of the colognes listed on askmen.com were on the counter. So I grabbed some cards and started spraying. A cute Asian counter girl offered assistance, but I declined.
To let my nose recover from the cologne sniffing, I walked around the store and found a nice box of chocolates for my grab bag. I walked back to the perfume counter to find the cute girl waiting.
"Can I ring you up for that," she asked.
"In a bit. I'm interested in getting some cologne," I replied.
"Any particular one?"
"I was thinking about the Cool Water."
The cute girl finds the tester bottle and we try some on my wrist. It smelled a bit fruity and playful on my skin, so I start having second thoughts about this scent. I asked the cute girl for her opinion.
"It smells nice. Is that the one you want?"
"I don't know. It's been a long time since I bought cologne so I'm not sure what I'm looking for."
"Oh? What did you used to wear?"
"Polo. How about you pick something for me?"
"Hmmmm. I like these," and she pulled out three bottles. Then she started searching for cards. Her coworker was wrestling with the plastic shrink wrap the cards come in. Once they were free, the cute girl grabbed three and sprayed the first one.
"Hmmm," I nodded. The cute girl sprayed the second.
"Um, I can't smell a thing. Might be because I'm sick," I said. The cute girl laughed then went behind the counter to get a bag of coffee beans. "No really, I am a bit sick," I declared again only to hear her laugh again. Then she sprayed the final bottle.
"OK, this one smells a bit fruity."
The cute girl removed the last bottle from the line up. Out of the two remaining, I asked her which was her favorite. I figure a woman would have a better opinion of what smells good on a man than a man himself.
"I like this one. Can I try it on your other wrist," the cute girl asked.
"Sure." And she sprayed my wrist. She sniffed my wrists and declared that it was the better scent.
"Yeah. I like this one, but I don't want to make the decision myself," the cute girl said. I looked around, hoping to grab another female as a smell tester. Unfortunately, the only females around were of a nice, tender age that would get me arrested as a sex offender. The cute girl must have read my mind and she started looking for another available counter girl. A cosmetics girl came around and asked the cute girl what was up.
"Can you tell us which one you prefer," the cute girl asked the cosmetics girl, who then sniffed my wrists.
"I like this one," the cosmetics girl said as she pointed to the wrist that smelled of the scent the cute girl chose.
"Alrighty then. I'll take it."
"OK, this one comes in a gift pack," said the cute girl as she dug through a pyramid of gift packs. Eventually she found none. "I'm sorry. Looks like we're out of the gift pack."
"What came in the gift pack?"
"Shower gel. . ."
"OK, that's a bit too gay for me. I don't need the gift pack."
The cute girl giggled and got out a regular bottle. "Would you like to put this on your Macy's card?"
"No thanks."
"Would you like to sign up for a Macy's card?"
"I actually have one, but I just don't know what I did with it."
The cute girl giggled and said, "I can ring it up on your card through a search if you want."
"Nah. That's OK. I'll just use my regular card."
The cute girl rang up my bottle of Armani Mania and box of chocolates.
"Thank you very much," the cute girl said as she handed me my card and receipt.
"Thank you. . .," I tried to read her nametag.
"Shaeja"
"Shaeja. Thank you Shaeja."
"You're welcome."
"And thank you for making me smell like two different people."
(Giggles)"You're welcome. Have a good evening."
"You too. Enjoy the rest of your night."
So now I have cologne. I am one step closer to being a metrosexual.
I haven't bought cologne in a while, but I did look some up on the old intraweb. Lo and behold, several of the colognes listed on askmen.com were on the counter. So I grabbed some cards and started spraying. A cute Asian counter girl offered assistance, but I declined.
To let my nose recover from the cologne sniffing, I walked around the store and found a nice box of chocolates for my grab bag. I walked back to the perfume counter to find the cute girl waiting.
"Can I ring you up for that," she asked.
"In a bit. I'm interested in getting some cologne," I replied.
"Any particular one?"
"I was thinking about the Cool Water."
The cute girl finds the tester bottle and we try some on my wrist. It smelled a bit fruity and playful on my skin, so I start having second thoughts about this scent. I asked the cute girl for her opinion.
"It smells nice. Is that the one you want?"
"I don't know. It's been a long time since I bought cologne so I'm not sure what I'm looking for."
"Oh? What did you used to wear?"
"Polo. How about you pick something for me?"
"Hmmmm. I like these," and she pulled out three bottles. Then she started searching for cards. Her coworker was wrestling with the plastic shrink wrap the cards come in. Once they were free, the cute girl grabbed three and sprayed the first one.
"Hmmm," I nodded. The cute girl sprayed the second.
"Um, I can't smell a thing. Might be because I'm sick," I said. The cute girl laughed then went behind the counter to get a bag of coffee beans. "No really, I am a bit sick," I declared again only to hear her laugh again. Then she sprayed the final bottle.
"OK, this one smells a bit fruity."
The cute girl removed the last bottle from the line up. Out of the two remaining, I asked her which was her favorite. I figure a woman would have a better opinion of what smells good on a man than a man himself.
"I like this one. Can I try it on your other wrist," the cute girl asked.
"Sure." And she sprayed my wrist. She sniffed my wrists and declared that it was the better scent.
"Yeah. I like this one, but I don't want to make the decision myself," the cute girl said. I looked around, hoping to grab another female as a smell tester. Unfortunately, the only females around were of a nice, tender age that would get me arrested as a sex offender. The cute girl must have read my mind and she started looking for another available counter girl. A cosmetics girl came around and asked the cute girl what was up.
"Can you tell us which one you prefer," the cute girl asked the cosmetics girl, who then sniffed my wrists.
"I like this one," the cosmetics girl said as she pointed to the wrist that smelled of the scent the cute girl chose.
"Alrighty then. I'll take it."
"OK, this one comes in a gift pack," said the cute girl as she dug through a pyramid of gift packs. Eventually she found none. "I'm sorry. Looks like we're out of the gift pack."
"What came in the gift pack?"
"Shower gel. . ."
"OK, that's a bit too gay for me. I don't need the gift pack."
The cute girl giggled and got out a regular bottle. "Would you like to put this on your Macy's card?"
"No thanks."
"Would you like to sign up for a Macy's card?"
"I actually have one, but I just don't know what I did with it."
The cute girl giggled and said, "I can ring it up on your card through a search if you want."
"Nah. That's OK. I'll just use my regular card."
The cute girl rang up my bottle of Armani Mania and box of chocolates.
"Thank you very much," the cute girl said as she handed me my card and receipt.
"Thank you. . .," I tried to read her nametag.
"Shaeja"
"Shaeja. Thank you Shaeja."
"You're welcome."
"And thank you for making me smell like two different people."
(Giggles)"You're welcome. Have a good evening."
"You too. Enjoy the rest of your night."
So now I have cologne. I am one step closer to being a metrosexual.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Back to the Beach
It's been about 10 years since I went to the beach to actually get in the water. So when the Band Teacher told me to go with her, I was a bit apprehensive. I mean, I'd have to get mostly naked in public. I haven't been naked in public since my stint as a stunt flasher. But the chance to ogle mostly naked women won out.
This is the view of the ocean from where we were sitting. It's at Poipu, Kauai.
You can't see the palm trees and pavilions behind us.
Once on the beach, I immediately began to warm up with some beers.
And I started to look for female butts. Sorry the picture quality is so poor. I have a crappy cell phone.
Lucky the BT is so cool. She said her cell phone camera was better than mine, so she tried to take some pics for me. She has lousy tastes though.
Beached whale?
Screw this. I'll just take a pic of the BT and post that up instead.
"Oh no. Don't post that pic on your blog. It makes me look fat," said the BT.
WHAT? where the hell is the fat? In your toes?
During this time, Riley was out on his lunch date. I had been egging him on all day yesterday, saying when I see his date, I'm going to hit on her soooo bad. I only did that so he would get off his ass and initiate a date with the poor girl. As proof that the girl did survive initial contact with the entity known as Riley, he sent me this pic. Of course, it could be a man in a wig.
After the beach, the BT and I headed off to a bar and grill for lunch. It's the same one where I hit on a waitress a couple of weeks ago. This time I didn't hit on any waitresses. A friend told me I shouldn't hit on the rest since they do share stories, and I would become famous.
Instead, I called over my waitress and said, "can I get your opinion on something?"
"Sure," she replied.
"My friend sent me this pic of his date. Does she look thirty-# to you?" I showed her the pic on my phone.
"No. Wait. No. She doesn't look thirty-#."
"That's what I thought. Hey, can I take a picture of you?"
"Well, I usually don't like how I look in photos, but ok," she said as she corrected her posture.
"Actually, let's take a picture together." I handed my phone to the BT.
She's right. She was way more attractive in person. The backlighting hurt the pic. And you can't see how great her legs looked. She said she was a runner. I believe her.
The BT said we should do this again next week. If I do, I'm buying a better camera.
This is the view of the ocean from where we were sitting. It's at Poipu, Kauai.
You can't see the palm trees and pavilions behind us.
Once on the beach, I immediately began to warm up with some beers.
And I started to look for female butts. Sorry the picture quality is so poor. I have a crappy cell phone.
Lucky the BT is so cool. She said her cell phone camera was better than mine, so she tried to take some pics for me. She has lousy tastes though.
Beached whale?
Screw this. I'll just take a pic of the BT and post that up instead.
"Oh no. Don't post that pic on your blog. It makes me look fat," said the BT.
WHAT? where the hell is the fat? In your toes?
During this time, Riley was out on his lunch date. I had been egging him on all day yesterday, saying when I see his date, I'm going to hit on her soooo bad. I only did that so he would get off his ass and initiate a date with the poor girl. As proof that the girl did survive initial contact with the entity known as Riley, he sent me this pic. Of course, it could be a man in a wig.
After the beach, the BT and I headed off to a bar and grill for lunch. It's the same one where I hit on a waitress a couple of weeks ago. This time I didn't hit on any waitresses. A friend told me I shouldn't hit on the rest since they do share stories, and I would become famous.
Instead, I called over my waitress and said, "can I get your opinion on something?"
"Sure," she replied.
"My friend sent me this pic of his date. Does she look thirty-# to you?" I showed her the pic on my phone.
"No. Wait. No. She doesn't look thirty-#."
"That's what I thought. Hey, can I take a picture of you?"
"Well, I usually don't like how I look in photos, but ok," she said as she corrected her posture.
"Actually, let's take a picture together." I handed my phone to the BT.
She's right. She was way more attractive in person. The backlighting hurt the pic. And you can't see how great her legs looked. She said she was a runner. I believe her.
The BT said we should do this again next week. If I do, I'm buying a better camera.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Two Turkeys on a Ride
Squiggy the sex offender flashes for Lauren.
"Great. Now we're trapped in here," said Gsxrgirrrl in a non-ending string of complaints.
Gsxrgirrrl found a dandelion to blow. In a related incident, Squiggy got pelted by dandelion seeds and spittle.
Squiggy still can't wear Women's Small.
"But," he said . . .
Gsxrgirrrl collapses after riding one handed for 20 minutes holding her fairing then wrenching it back on. "My butt looks big," she proclaimed.
Monday, November 19, 2007
I Should Not Be Allowed Near Women
Been a while since I wrote something. I actually had a busy October, but I promised not to write about it. So you guys will have to be satisfied with November. For November, I seem to be having weird interactions with women.
This is what happened when the Band Teacher and I went out to lunch one day:
We were seated and a nice caucasian waitress came over to take our order. After she left, I said, "she looks like she works out."
When the waitress came back with our drinks, I asked if she works out.
"I surf and swim a lot. I haven't been to a gym since I moved here though. But I love the beaches around here. I'm from San Diego, but the ocean around here is just so much better. Is it my large shoulders? Back in school, the guys used to ask me to flex. Do they look weird?"
"Not at all. In fact, I think you look very attractive."
After she thanked me, she went back to work. I talked to the BT about body language and how it's fun to see all these couples here and try to figure out what's going on. Then I said that if someone was watching us, they would be wondering what the hell was going on. I was looking at every single attractive female in the place while my "girl" took it casually. The BT said that if they paid attention to her body language, they should know we weren't a couple. I told her she was wrong. Then I pointed out how the hostess wanted to seat us side by side.
I then noticed the waitress had her back to us while she fiddled with those computerized drink terminal thingies. She had nicely shaped legs, but the BT refused to look when I told her to.
When the waitress came over with our food, I spoke again.
"I never got your name."
"Oops. I'm sorry. It's C*****. We're supposed to introduce ourselves when we first greet the customers. . . [she spoke too fast at this point]."
Lunch took some time to finish. I had a really big cheese burger and the BT had a fish taco. I told her to be ready because I was going to make a fool of myself. C***** came back with our bill.
"Hey C*****, what do you think of this? I'm a 35 year old teacher. I love mountain biking and riding motorcycles. Any of that sound interesting?"
"Yeah! I love motorcycles."
"How about movies? You interested in movies?"
"Oh, I do love going to the movies, but I have a boyfriend."
"Might not be a good idea then."
"Yeah. But um, aren't you with, um. . . your wife. . . girlfriend?"
The BT piped up, "oh no. I'm just the sister he never knew he had nor wanted."
"Oh, you two are just friends," C***** asked.
I replied, "yup. But the funny thing is we were just talking about how people would mistake us for a couple."
C***** finished with, "you know what? Thanks. You really made my day."
"No problem. In fact, I really enjoyed looking at you." [wtf was I saying? I need to stop drinking beer during lunch.]
Later that day, on my bike ride:
There's this one female security guard for the hotel where we ride our bikes. I saw she was working today, so I was determined to talk to her before I left.
I pulled up to the guard booth, and she waved. I stopped, took off my sunglasses, and said, "you know, I see you here often, but I've never introduced myself. My name is Squiggy."
She stood up and came closer to shake my hand. "My name is C*****."
"Hi C*****. So how does a girl like you become a security guard?"
"You know, I'm not quite sure myself. I keep trying to tell them to hire more women so I'm not the only one."
"Hmmm. I'm not sure how you'll take this. I was going to say that you were the most attractive security guard around here, but since you're the only female one. . ."
C***** smiles.
"Well, I guess I should let you get back to work. It does look rather boring though sitting here all night. Maybe I should sneak in some beers?"
"I'm allergic to beer."
I look stunned.
"So what do you do when you go out?"
"I hardly go out anymore. I usually stay home. When I did go out drinking, I would drink hards."
"You usually stay home? How old are you?"
"21"
"Twenty one??? And you don't go out drinking?"
"I used to drink a lot in high school," C***** smiles.
"Ah, I got it. It's no fun now that you're legal, huh. Well maybe I can take you out for drinks one night. I'll see you around."
"Yup. You will since you've seen me often before."
She later declined my offer a couple days later to get drunk.
This happened during the work week:
Girl Student: Mr. Squiggy, Miss [cute Science Teacher] told me to ask you something.
Me: Um, kay. . .
Girl: I'll tell you after class. (40 minutes later) Miss Science Teacher told me to tell you to buy a ticket to my hula performance.
Me: Huh? Why?
Girl: She bought one, but she doesn't want to go alone.
Me: So she told you to ask me?
Girl: Yeah.
Me: Um, kay. . . how much is a ticket?
Girl: $20 for the dinner too.
Me: Twenty bucks???
Girl: Yeah. Miss Science Teacher bought the $20 one.
Me: Great. OK. Meet me during lunch. I'll go get my money.
Email to Science Teacher: You're going to drive for this.
After mountain biking:
In the afternoon, while we were loading up our bikes, a rental car pulled up to the lookout. Out popped some old fogie and a tall, attractive blonde. We made some small talk about things to see around there. She, her mom I guess, her grandpa, and a hot sister were out for the day touring. They came on a cruise ship. The tall blonde looked good, and she was doing stretches in front of me, but I couldn't bring myself to flirt with her. I guess I R-tard.
After jogging that afternoon with a girl:
The girl adjusted her sanitary napkin in front of me. I also matter-of-factly pointed out her nipples were showing. To which she replied that it's natural since she was wearing a sports bra and she was active. Then she started to poke at her nipple while I watched.
"Um, let's get going before something else besides your nipples gets hard."
The BT and I went to a bar:
There was another attractive waitress, go figure. However, she was dressed differently from the other waitresses. Of course, me being me, I had to ask. She explain that she worked behind the bar, and was also a food runner. She also explained that her uniform matched the guys, but of course, the one she wore was a more feminine style. I agree.
While the BT was settling the tab, I kept watching that attractive waitress. She was stocking some drinks behind the bar, and whenever she bent over, her top would lift a little and expose her lower back. I thought it looked great. No muffin top, no tramp stamp, no blemishes. Nothing but smooth skin. (The BT later asked how I was able to determine that in the poorly lit conditions. I hate her for ruining my dreams.) I decided I had to say something to the attractive brunette.
I took my chance when she walked past me. "Excuse me." She stopped. I reached out my hand, and she put hers into mine. I got to look at her close up for the first time that night. She was very pretty. However, several hours of mountain biking, including a crash, a 2 mile walk/jog, a couple of hours wrenching on a motorcycle, and alcohol, all conspired to give me the equivalent of a first grade reading level.
"Yes," she asked as I held her hand.
"You remind me of a Gilmore Girl." DOH!
To the old saleslady in a jewelry store:
"Can I get a fiance to go with this wedding band?"
In Macy's when a 5'8" blonde walked past me:
"Careful sir," warned a saleslady.
"Thud," said my foot as a kicked a shoe display really hard.
"Sorry. I was just looking at the pretty tall girl."
In a different store, helping my friend find a gift for his girlfriend:
Friend and I: Hi H****. (She was a friend's wife)
Me: Hey H****. If you were a girl. . .
Friend: What do you mean, "if?"
Me continuing unabated: What would you do if you got a stuffed animal as a gift? You'd probably just put it on a shelf or something, right?
H****: Yeah, probably.
Me: But what if someone special gave you a cute blanket. Or maybe a cute pillow. Wouldn't you love to get that?
H****: Oh yes!
(I threw in that last one more for discussion. Would women prefer something like a blanket or pillow to a stuffed animal?)
This is what happened when the Band Teacher and I went out to lunch one day:
We were seated and a nice caucasian waitress came over to take our order. After she left, I said, "she looks like she works out."
When the waitress came back with our drinks, I asked if she works out.
"I surf and swim a lot. I haven't been to a gym since I moved here though. But I love the beaches around here. I'm from San Diego, but the ocean around here is just so much better. Is it my large shoulders? Back in school, the guys used to ask me to flex. Do they look weird?"
"Not at all. In fact, I think you look very attractive."
After she thanked me, she went back to work. I talked to the BT about body language and how it's fun to see all these couples here and try to figure out what's going on. Then I said that if someone was watching us, they would be wondering what the hell was going on. I was looking at every single attractive female in the place while my "girl" took it casually. The BT said that if they paid attention to her body language, they should know we weren't a couple. I told her she was wrong. Then I pointed out how the hostess wanted to seat us side by side.
I then noticed the waitress had her back to us while she fiddled with those computerized drink terminal thingies. She had nicely shaped legs, but the BT refused to look when I told her to.
When the waitress came over with our food, I spoke again.
"I never got your name."
"Oops. I'm sorry. It's C*****. We're supposed to introduce ourselves when we first greet the customers. . . [she spoke too fast at this point]."
Lunch took some time to finish. I had a really big cheese burger and the BT had a fish taco. I told her to be ready because I was going to make a fool of myself. C***** came back with our bill.
"Hey C*****, what do you think of this? I'm a 35 year old teacher. I love mountain biking and riding motorcycles. Any of that sound interesting?"
"Yeah! I love motorcycles."
"How about movies? You interested in movies?"
"Oh, I do love going to the movies, but I have a boyfriend."
"Might not be a good idea then."
"Yeah. But um, aren't you with, um. . . your wife. . . girlfriend?"
The BT piped up, "oh no. I'm just the sister he never knew he had nor wanted."
"Oh, you two are just friends," C***** asked.
I replied, "yup. But the funny thing is we were just talking about how people would mistake us for a couple."
C***** finished with, "you know what? Thanks. You really made my day."
"No problem. In fact, I really enjoyed looking at you." [wtf was I saying? I need to stop drinking beer during lunch.]
Later that day, on my bike ride:
There's this one female security guard for the hotel where we ride our bikes. I saw she was working today, so I was determined to talk to her before I left.
I pulled up to the guard booth, and she waved. I stopped, took off my sunglasses, and said, "you know, I see you here often, but I've never introduced myself. My name is Squiggy."
She stood up and came closer to shake my hand. "My name is C*****."
"Hi C*****. So how does a girl like you become a security guard?"
"You know, I'm not quite sure myself. I keep trying to tell them to hire more women so I'm not the only one."
"Hmmm. I'm not sure how you'll take this. I was going to say that you were the most attractive security guard around here, but since you're the only female one. . ."
C***** smiles.
"Well, I guess I should let you get back to work. It does look rather boring though sitting here all night. Maybe I should sneak in some beers?"
"I'm allergic to beer."
I look stunned.
"So what do you do when you go out?"
"I hardly go out anymore. I usually stay home. When I did go out drinking, I would drink hards."
"You usually stay home? How old are you?"
"21"
"Twenty one??? And you don't go out drinking?"
"I used to drink a lot in high school," C***** smiles.
"Ah, I got it. It's no fun now that you're legal, huh. Well maybe I can take you out for drinks one night. I'll see you around."
"Yup. You will since you've seen me often before."
She later declined my offer a couple days later to get drunk.
This happened during the work week:
Girl Student: Mr. Squiggy, Miss [cute Science Teacher] told me to ask you something.
Me: Um, kay. . .
Girl: I'll tell you after class. (40 minutes later) Miss Science Teacher told me to tell you to buy a ticket to my hula performance.
Me: Huh? Why?
Girl: She bought one, but she doesn't want to go alone.
Me: So she told you to ask me?
Girl: Yeah.
Me: Um, kay. . . how much is a ticket?
Girl: $20 for the dinner too.
Me: Twenty bucks???
Girl: Yeah. Miss Science Teacher bought the $20 one.
Me: Great. OK. Meet me during lunch. I'll go get my money.
Email to Science Teacher: You're going to drive for this.
After mountain biking:
In the afternoon, while we were loading up our bikes, a rental car pulled up to the lookout. Out popped some old fogie and a tall, attractive blonde. We made some small talk about things to see around there. She, her mom I guess, her grandpa, and a hot sister were out for the day touring. They came on a cruise ship. The tall blonde looked good, and she was doing stretches in front of me, but I couldn't bring myself to flirt with her. I guess I R-tard.
After jogging that afternoon with a girl:
The girl adjusted her sanitary napkin in front of me. I also matter-of-factly pointed out her nipples were showing. To which she replied that it's natural since she was wearing a sports bra and she was active. Then she started to poke at her nipple while I watched.
"Um, let's get going before something else besides your nipples gets hard."
The BT and I went to a bar:
There was another attractive waitress, go figure. However, she was dressed differently from the other waitresses. Of course, me being me, I had to ask. She explain that she worked behind the bar, and was also a food runner. She also explained that her uniform matched the guys, but of course, the one she wore was a more feminine style. I agree.
While the BT was settling the tab, I kept watching that attractive waitress. She was stocking some drinks behind the bar, and whenever she bent over, her top would lift a little and expose her lower back. I thought it looked great. No muffin top, no tramp stamp, no blemishes. Nothing but smooth skin. (The BT later asked how I was able to determine that in the poorly lit conditions. I hate her for ruining my dreams.) I decided I had to say something to the attractive brunette.
I took my chance when she walked past me. "Excuse me." She stopped. I reached out my hand, and she put hers into mine. I got to look at her close up for the first time that night. She was very pretty. However, several hours of mountain biking, including a crash, a 2 mile walk/jog, a couple of hours wrenching on a motorcycle, and alcohol, all conspired to give me the equivalent of a first grade reading level.
"Yes," she asked as I held her hand.
"You remind me of a Gilmore Girl." DOH!
To the old saleslady in a jewelry store:
"Can I get a fiance to go with this wedding band?"
In Macy's when a 5'8" blonde walked past me:
"Careful sir," warned a saleslady.
"Thud," said my foot as a kicked a shoe display really hard.
"Sorry. I was just looking at the pretty tall girl."
In a different store, helping my friend find a gift for his girlfriend:
Friend and I: Hi H****. (She was a friend's wife)
Me: Hey H****. If you were a girl. . .
Friend: What do you mean, "if?"
Me continuing unabated: What would you do if you got a stuffed animal as a gift? You'd probably just put it on a shelf or something, right?
H****: Yeah, probably.
Me: But what if someone special gave you a cute blanket. Or maybe a cute pillow. Wouldn't you love to get that?
H****: Oh yes!
(I threw in that last one more for discussion. Would women prefer something like a blanket or pillow to a stuffed animal?)
Monday, September 24, 2007
My Birthday Suit
"Hey, what are you doing," The Band teacher asked.
"I was just getting my things together to go riding," I replied.
"You want to get lunch first?"
"Hmmm. Well, Satoshi said he was going to ride later in the day, so I guess... sure."
I threw on a t-shirt and shorts and headed to the BT's house. From there, we took her car to lunch since her car is cooler. My car is a Yaris. It's frugal and sensible. Not sexy. She has a TC. It's aggressive with attitude. Also, if we take her car, it's like I have a chauffeur.
The BT said she was craving a Loco Moco. That's an over-easy egg on a hamburger patty, on rice, smothered with brown gravy. So we headed to a popular motel diner. I ate a saimin. That's Hawaii-style ramen. She paid for lunch since she was the one to ask me out. (See The Blonde? The one that asks the other out pays. Normal, eh?)
After we finished eating, The BT wanted to do something else. She missed my birthday the week before, and wanted to do something special to make it up to me. I didn't have any objections. My other option was to hang out with two other people who possess penises. We hopped into the BTmobile and moseyed on out.
The BT brought me to a small, private room where she had me take off my clothes. She was totally in charge of the situation. She was domineering and imperious. She broke me like a wild horse. I had no choice but to obey her every command.
"Take this one. Put this on. Take that off. Put that in. Pull it out."
But even though she was the boss, she was still caring and made sure I was ok.
"How does that feel? Do you like that? Is that nice? You like what you see?"
We did this for about 7 or 8 rounds. By the time we were done, I was broke. I was spent. I was a changed man.
When we started, I looked like this:
Now I look like this:
We went clothes shopping.
"I was just getting my things together to go riding," I replied.
"You want to get lunch first?"
"Hmmm. Well, Satoshi said he was going to ride later in the day, so I guess... sure."
I threw on a t-shirt and shorts and headed to the BT's house. From there, we took her car to lunch since her car is cooler. My car is a Yaris. It's frugal and sensible. Not sexy. She has a TC. It's aggressive with attitude. Also, if we take her car, it's like I have a chauffeur.
The BT said she was craving a Loco Moco. That's an over-easy egg on a hamburger patty, on rice, smothered with brown gravy. So we headed to a popular motel diner. I ate a saimin. That's Hawaii-style ramen. She paid for lunch since she was the one to ask me out. (See The Blonde? The one that asks the other out pays. Normal, eh?)
After we finished eating, The BT wanted to do something else. She missed my birthday the week before, and wanted to do something special to make it up to me. I didn't have any objections. My other option was to hang out with two other people who possess penises. We hopped into the BTmobile and moseyed on out.
The BT brought me to a small, private room where she had me take off my clothes. She was totally in charge of the situation. She was domineering and imperious. She broke me like a wild horse. I had no choice but to obey her every command.
"Take this one. Put this on. Take that off. Put that in. Pull it out."
But even though she was the boss, she was still caring and made sure I was ok.
"How does that feel? Do you like that? Is that nice? You like what you see?"
We did this for about 7 or 8 rounds. By the time we were done, I was broke. I was spent. I was a changed man.
When we started, I looked like this:
Now I look like this:
We went clothes shopping.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Foreign Food
It's been a while since Biker Teacher tried to get a date. He wasn't feeling too marketable after failing to even get a response from the Drug Pusher. But his feelings of rejection started to disappear when he met The Blonde.
The Blonde is an athletic girl. She showed some of her abilities during one of those ridiculous "team building" activities employers make you do. Seems like once word got out that Japanese companies made their workers do calisthenics, everyone in the world wanted to jump on the bandwagon and do crazy stuff too. She also talked about how she jogs every morning before work. It shows too. The Blonde is very fit and firm.
However, while a firm body evokes feelings in the nether regions, a great mind provides much fodder for fantasies. The Blonde’s brains provides a cornucopia of lust-fuel. It turns out that The Blonde possesses an advanced college degree. Not only beauty, but brains as well. A great two-pronged attack.
And yet, smarts and a bod may not always be enough. You got to have personality. And once again, The Blonde does not disappoint. Although she is inexperienced, she shows passion for her work. She also demonstrates the go-for-broke attitude made famous by the 442. She’s running into a few snags, but she’s still determined to be a success.
The Blonde is also a beer girl. Some girls are prissy and only drink wine coolers. Others are uppity and only drink wine. Others are ultra-feminine and insist on drinking colorful drinks that come with an umbrella. Beer girls are down to earth. They know how to enjoy themselves without being caught up in appearances. They exude self confidence.
Another way self confidence shows is through eating habits. If a girl is not afraid to eat in front of a guy, then you know she’s not going to be the type who will BS you. At the local pizzeria, The Blonde easily ate the most out of all of the table-mates, and also drank two Heinekens.
Biker Teacher was smitten. If The Blonde was a car, she would have had 300 horsepower, turbo charged, rear wheel drive, race suspension, a great stereo system, bucket seats, and still get 42 miles per gallon. With such a prize before him, Biker Teacher mustered his courage and searched for his danglies, since they shriveled in fear, and approached The Blonde.
“If you’re free this week, I’d like to take you out and buy you dinner,” said Biker Teacher.
“I’m sorry. I’m so busy. I don’t even have time to think about going out. Plus, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with you buying,” was The Blonde’s reply.
“If a guy asks a girl to dinner, shouldn’t he pay?”
“Yeah, but I have a boy friend. Would it be ok if we go Dutch?”
“Dutch? I don’t think so. I think I’d rather eat local food. Maybe I’ll call you again sometime.”
And the Biker Teacher went home to walk his dog in the rain.
The Blonde is an athletic girl. She showed some of her abilities during one of those ridiculous "team building" activities employers make you do. Seems like once word got out that Japanese companies made their workers do calisthenics, everyone in the world wanted to jump on the bandwagon and do crazy stuff too. She also talked about how she jogs every morning before work. It shows too. The Blonde is very fit and firm.
However, while a firm body evokes feelings in the nether regions, a great mind provides much fodder for fantasies. The Blonde’s brains provides a cornucopia of lust-fuel. It turns out that The Blonde possesses an advanced college degree. Not only beauty, but brains as well. A great two-pronged attack.
And yet, smarts and a bod may not always be enough. You got to have personality. And once again, The Blonde does not disappoint. Although she is inexperienced, she shows passion for her work. She also demonstrates the go-for-broke attitude made famous by the 442. She’s running into a few snags, but she’s still determined to be a success.
The Blonde is also a beer girl. Some girls are prissy and only drink wine coolers. Others are uppity and only drink wine. Others are ultra-feminine and insist on drinking colorful drinks that come with an umbrella. Beer girls are down to earth. They know how to enjoy themselves without being caught up in appearances. They exude self confidence.
Another way self confidence shows is through eating habits. If a girl is not afraid to eat in front of a guy, then you know she’s not going to be the type who will BS you. At the local pizzeria, The Blonde easily ate the most out of all of the table-mates, and also drank two Heinekens.
Biker Teacher was smitten. If The Blonde was a car, she would have had 300 horsepower, turbo charged, rear wheel drive, race suspension, a great stereo system, bucket seats, and still get 42 miles per gallon. With such a prize before him, Biker Teacher mustered his courage and searched for his danglies, since they shriveled in fear, and approached The Blonde.
“If you’re free this week, I’d like to take you out and buy you dinner,” said Biker Teacher.
“I’m sorry. I’m so busy. I don’t even have time to think about going out. Plus, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with you buying,” was The Blonde’s reply.
“If a guy asks a girl to dinner, shouldn’t he pay?”
“Yeah, but I have a boy friend. Would it be ok if we go Dutch?”
“Dutch? I don’t think so. I think I’d rather eat local food. Maybe I’ll call you again sometime.”
And the Biker Teacher went home to walk his dog in the rain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)