Remember that little number I met at Spider Kelly’s from this story. Three weeks later and a flaked date we finally decided to meet up for a happy hour since she worked right around the corner from me. I thought about just doing TGIF and keeping it grimy but decided on this trendy little hot spot where high class executives mingle. I came in my cookie monster blue pinned striped suit,white krispy button up, silk black tie, gold tie bar, pocket square and black Stacey Adams of course. (what up G manifesto) She showed up 15 minutes late and was wearing this mid thigh sun dress that was so thin that if it wasn’t for her librarian sweater could have passed as high end lingerie. There was something about this girl that I just couldn’t put my hand on. Something that should have slapped me in the face like a cock. With that long straight hair and partial Native American features I was slightly thrown off. But the old men in the spot turning their wedding rings probably knew before I did.

We hug, she sits down, I give her a little compliment. Then the clues start dropping. I should have made her from jump street but honestly I’ve been dating European women for so long I wasn’t prepared. Her: Oh I look like crap, I had such a long night. A friend came into town and he wanted to party so we went and got drinks at TGIF by my place. Barely got any sleep and just rolled into work, I’m not even wearing any make up. Translation: “I banged a dude last night. I think to myself hmmmm there’s a hint of a strong slut vibe here but maybe I’m wrong. We keep talking. And she’s getting text messages, probably from the guy last night. While she’s opening up her purse… is that… yuppp… it’s a condom just sitting there. But maybe it’s one of those rape condoms with teeth on the inside, maybe she’s the type of girl that gets raped on the reg.. right? Just ignore it. VK: I noticed you’ve got a couple of butterfly tattoos that one on your hand and the other on your ankle, what’s that about? Why a butterfly?

Her: Oh it representation of sexuality. Their faded now but the butterfly wings used be rainbow colored. (giggles). Yeah I went through an experimental stage when I was younger. VK; Oh sure, who didn’t, somewhere out there, there’s a picture of me passed out with a bottle of Jager and one of my frat brothers balls on my forehead. Who am I to judge. The conversation turns to family and she tells me how her sister is divorced with three kids. I jokingly asked if she had any kids and she nervously smiled and said yes…. AN 11 YEAR OLD. This chick just turned 30. She went on to tell me that she got pregnant at 18 by some “older” guy that lived in her parents neighborhood. The whole thing sounded like it was on To Catch a Predator tip. By the time we get to her stripper past in her early 20’s I’m 100% sure I’m on a date with the biggest slut in the D.M.V. Also to mention the sly smile she throws the bartender from time to time, the same smile that made me come talk to her at SK. Oh and according to her she’s still “sort of kind of” still with her boyfriend but they both know it’s over… Don’t get it twisted though. On my way back from the bathroom, Suit buttoned up walking towards her, she tells me how incredibly handsome I looked. By her fourth cosmo martini she’s seductively smiling at me and giving me a look. When I ask what, she smiles back and says, “nothing”. By drink five she’s squeezes my thigh twice during a conversation. I close the tab and want to take her to a grimy neighborhood spot next door, She agrees at first, but halfway there she decides she’s too tired from the night before and needs to drive home. We hug, she kisses me on the cheek. Akward silence between with that nervous I had fun and we should do it again chat. I say goodbye, hug, this time peck on the lips. I figure she’s going to go bang the guy she’s been texting all night. I can’t believe I just fumbled a slut ball, how did I not hit! So many slut signs, SO MANY. This should have been a freaking lay up. I came in at the wrong angle, oh well. I get home and my phone rings, it’s her.

VK: Hey what’s up. Her: Nothing speeding home right now. I just wanted to let you know I had a good time. I’m sorry I had to end the night early but didn’t want you to think it was you. I just need to get some rest from last night. VK: No worries, it was chill, I’m already at home. We should do it again. Her: Definitely, I’d like that a lot. VK: (Mind racing like a vulcan) Actually you know I live right down the street from where we were. Maybe next time you should come over after work for HH at my place. I’ve got tons of liquor. I live at redacted apartment complex. Her: Really? I know exactly where that is, my girlfriend used to live in that complex. Yeah why not, I could wait out the traffic at your place. VK: let’s shoot for this Thursday (two days later), I’ll text you We agreed as she was pulling up to her place. I’m not the kind of guy that takes anything these girls say as a sure thing, the chances of flaking is high. But I hung up the phone and the only word that came into my head