SEX AND RELATIONSHIPS

Scoot Scoot Skeet Skeet Outta There

Written by Marisa

The card read: “What’s the difference between a hooker and a drug dealer? The hooker can wash her crack out and sell it again. Happy Birthday. Love, Benny.”

Happy Birthday to me!

Date 1 was drinks at an Irish pub. It lasted about an hour, he was borderline funny and cheesy and I wasn’t sure if I was into it…but was intrigued by his long and drawn out story about how his friend may or may not get married in 2 weeks and he may or may not be in the wedding since said friend cannot even make a choice about who he wants in the wedding that may or may not happen.

Rewind. A month ago I was out, drunk and happy at a meat market bar. Some guy came up to me with this line: “What’s up?” I thought…’do I know this guy?’ So I said “what’s up” back and then got caught in a conversation that led to me realizing I had no clue who he was and somehow he got my number out of it. Damn, blame it on the buzz. 2 weeks later I get a text from a number that was not in my phone. Yeah, it was ‘What’s up?’ guy. The texting storm began. (P.S. he pulled this same ‘pick up’ tactic on a friend of mine and the end result was described as “stalking” by her)

The night before my birthday party, I’m out, I’m boppin’ around with my friends and some vod and ‘what’s up?’ guy wants to meet up. I had no clue what he looked like, so I figured he can find me if he can remember. Well apparently he had been falking me even though he didn’t have an account (trust me, I tried to do research, to no avail) and was able to find me in a sea of Friday night drunkies. I chatted with him for a bit and thought, ok he’s funny, somewhat attractive; I’ll roll with this for a hot minute.

So after the drinks at the Irish pub I was out of town for a while…so date 2 happened a week and some change later. Please note, I SHOULD HAVE DONE MY F*CKIN RESEARCH! But Date 2 was set, it was a baseball game. En route to the game he grabs something from the back of the car—“wow, look here, it’s a birthday card for you because I remembered it was your birthday and hey, it’s date 2, so let’s get this going.” And well you already know what the card read. Raunch city!

The game gave me some time to figure this one out. It took me 2 beers and my answer was NO. On the way home he gave me a birthday present. I shit you not, a box all wrapped up in ‘Happy Birthday’ wrapping paper with a bow on it. I thought, “Oh no, does this mean I have to do something in exchange for this?” S.O.S people, S.O.S! I opened it up and guess what it was? The toy version of a scooter I had jokingly said I wanted for my birthday. Wow wow wow. Needless to say I was impressed by his ‘listening’ skills and resourcefulness but equally creeped out. I didn’t even know his last name and he spent the last week searching the city for a toy scooter for me. The story doesn’t end here, the worst part was coming…the goodbye. What am I suppose to do? He got me a gift and a creepy card…but I can’t do it, I’m not into it. I went in for an air kiss on the cheek and he got my lips. I tightened them up like I was in 6th grade and then skeet skeeted outta there like Lil’ Jon. “Bye, thanks for the gift, the game, the creepy card and please don’t send me over-the-character-limit texts anymore, thanks again!”

Lesson learned ladies! DO YOUR RESEARCH!

gs150

About the author

Marisa

Marisa knows random like Britney knows crazy. She's *the* go-to person for random Chicago info with the trophy to prove it. If you’re itchin’ for BYOB Chinese with transvestite servers followed by live-band karaoke, BBM Marisa. By day, she's slangin' ads--writing about Mac 'n Cheese, Jell-O, A.1. and all things momtastic. By night, she practices her crow pose, rocks dunks, cooks like Giada, spins indie rock and gangsta rap and explores the city. She's been known to enjoy carbs or things covered in truffle oil and black cherry vodka covered in flashing lights and boombastic beats.

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