A Day in the Life of a Modern Day Seducer with Sleep Apnea Part II

(continued from part I)

Tsod:

So, of course I continued my little flirty assault on her.  She like it.  There is no mistaking it, but soon she excused herself.  But not before I had an opportunity to say, “Hey wait.  Before you go…  I’m big on first impressions and…  Well lets go have a drink or something sometime.”  But one of the common themes of Chicago reared it’s ugly head.

“Sorry.  I have a Boyfriend.  But thank you!”  This was not the typical blow off.  This was genuine and I’m not some subtle mind reader, I am HORRIBLE at reading a girl’s signals (as you will find out later).  She was glowing like a Christmas Tree when she said it.  She was genuinely flattered and she let me know it.  Now, thanks to This Guy – Dan Tena who has his own blog, I decided to try something new.  I usually am pretty cool about the whole “Boyfriend Girlfriend Dynamic” I mean that.  I love me some relationship so usually when a girl tells me, “I’m sorry I have a boyfriend.” I usually make small talk for about 1 more minute, to basically not be a douchebag, and then excuse myself.  But Dan suggests that instead, maybe we say to the gal something like, “Hey!  Let’s go find a bathroom and we’ll worry about your boyfriend later!!”

JUST KIDDING!  NO – That’s not what he suggests.  Never do that!

Well…  Unless it’s like a swinger party or something..

No, what Dan suggests is you say something along the lines of, “Well that’s cool.  I really like you.  How about we keep in touch and if you and your boyfriend ever split up, NOT that I want that to happen, but you know….  Just in case, then maybe I can be the first guy you think of.”  Basically I tried it, with my tired, half-sleepy mind and…  Well she was still beaming even more but she was holding tight.  So we chatter for about 1 more minute and I cut her loose.  But not until her face was beaming red and she had a smile from ear to ear.   That’s how I like a rejection to be.

About a couple minutes later the phone rang.  It was a girl I met after my last bar interview. That night I had walked into a Trader Joe’s to get something easy to eat.  I always like to go to the counter with the free nibblies in the back of the store and see what they have.  I am actually that cheap ass bastard that will wander through the stores with food displays trying everything I can.  (I am NOT the cheap ass bastard that will make it a point to shop on the days when they have free food to get some lunch.)  This time they happened to have a VERY cute girl making some shrimp dip on crakers.  I had no intention of flirting and it just sort of happened.  The girl I was talking to, we’ll just refer to her as Snowflake, had just moved here from out west and was dreading winter.  We got on a conversation of where she would like to live most and why.  She said Utah; she liked to hike and she loved nature and mountain climbing…  Things that are very much NOT Chicago.

Of course I started making fun of her about that, “You realize your decision to move to Chicago makes absolutely zero sense.”  She agreed.  We had a good vibey chat and soon I suggested, “Hey…  If I don’t get your number I’m gonna kick myself in the ass later.  This conversation is too much fun.”  At first she resisted, but it wasn’t a rejection.  Resistance and rejection are two different animals.  She just wanted me to convince her a little.  Her mind was wondering, “Why?”

So I told her, “I’m a very ‘in the moment’ kind of guy.  I had no intention of coming here.  I don’t even know why I did. (This was true.) So maybe this is all some esoteric bullshit, blah blah but maybe there’s a reason I did after all.  I figure, fuck it.  Let’s see what happens.”  It was so cute.  She grabbed this little, yellow, paper snowflake and wrote down her name and number on it.  I got in the habit recently of asking a girl, “Do you like Text or Phone?”  That’s because I’m starting to realize some girls prefer one over the other.  Some will almost never respond to text.  Some will never answer the phone and will text you back a minute later.  So we touched base a few times and this was her calling me back.  We had cool little flirty exchange over the phone and decided we would hang out on Sunday.  I always try to change the subject after making plans on the phone.  I want at least 1 more solid topic to be discussed.  I’m not doing fucking business, I’m talking to a real person I genuinely like.  So I don’t want to make plans and then be like, “Ok…  Gotta go!”  I feel like she would even realized, “Ok.  That was lame.”  But texting is different.  If I make text plans I basically don’t see the need to keep texting.  Over-texting is MUCH, MUCH easier to do than over talking on the phone.   For instance, I was just out with a very attractive, athletic, blond, tall (I’m really just saying this for my own benefit 😉 girl last night.  We set things up by text.  Once we chatted by text a little and then I moved to set things up, as soon as she agreed, I basically just confirmed with, “Cool… Cool…” and that was that.  I don’t think it makes sense to keep blasting away by text; on the phone continuing seems natural and kind of is.   When you over text it can come across, in my opinion, as try-hard or weird if you are just texting to get a response.

Anyway so I got off the phone after talking about something random and got back to my shopping.  I got two giant turkeys for 79 cents a pound and took them to the register.  The thing is, that the flirtyness was on.  It’s like a switch I can’t really turn off once I flick it on.  It get’s me free stuff like coffee, discounts, kisses, food, and once I even got a free dustpan.  I think in this case I was making fun of the girl at the register who’s name was Margarita.  I asked her if she made really good margaritas and she admitted to me she didn’t drink.  So with my wittiness I came up with the ever so smooth line of, “So you’re like a walking…  A walking…”

“A walking what?”  she wondered aloud.  But the funny thing is, as tired as I was a simple word like “contradiction” didn’t pop up into my head.  It was just gone.  It’s like the computer was missing one of the files to run, “Flashy Seduction Banter Conversation 1.2”.  But I still make her laugh and just went with it.  She ended up giving me 5% off on my stuff.

I got in the car and was just like, “alright.. time for me to go home.”  So I pulled out of the Target Parking lot and..  Oh wait, there’s an Aldi across the street and I need some eggs.  The only place with cheaper eggs that I know of are the Mexican Grocery Stores and I wasn’t close to any of them.

One of My favorite Grocery Stores in Chicago

So I did just that.  I got out of my car and started walking towards the store.  I saw what I thought was a panhandler standing a few feet to the left of the door, and was trying to think how I was going to spot him any money when I had almost none myself, since I don’t start me new job until they are finished building the place.  He started yelling something to me.  He repeated it.  I couldn’t hear him at first but finally it registered.  He was saying, “Your car is rolling!  Your car is rolling!”

Sure enough I looked back and my car was indeed rolling.  I’m sort of used to the randomness of life by now so I basically just sauntered back to my car like nothing strange was happening and re-parked it, but leaving the stick in gear to prevent it from rolling back out.

Inside the store I spotted this cute Latino girl with a snazzy little hat on her head.  I kept going.  “I’m getting groceries, I’m not out to flirt.”  I grabbed a few things including a couple chickens, because I LOVE baked chicken.  No no.  I have devoured so many chickens in my life it’s not even funny.  Sorry if you’re vegan or vegetarian.

“Should I be coming to your house later?” says the black girl at the register, eyeballing my chicken.

“Yes.” I said quickly, then added, “What are you a big fan of chicken?” She was nice, but not the type of girl I’m really interested in, so I kept the conversation kind of mundane. “I can pop a chicken in the over for like 4 hours and go do my stuff and it’s ready when I get home.”

She told me how much she loved chicken and finished cashing me out. Time to move on. I was feeling tired and just wanted to go home. Carrying my box of groceries, I spotted the cute Latino chick with the snazzy hat. She was sitting Indian Style (what do we call it now? Yoga style? Vanyasa or something? Cross legged like I am right now as I write this.) on this counter thing near the door. I smiled and realized my body was walking towards her. Oh shit. Here we go again…

Sitting Indian Style from Photobank

“What are you doing?” I asked. I was wondering why she was sitting on some counter in an Aldi with her legs crossed. Also, she was cute. We got into a little discussion about how she was there for Adderall. This didn’t really catch me off guard at all. Aldi is in Uptown. Her openness about it didn’t even really surprise me. I kind of have a thing for the dirty girls. Not dirty in the sense that she was like filthy, but dirty in the sense of that she was involved in some sort of drug deal. I don’t like drugs. I don’t do them. I wouldn’t even be involved with anyone who did drugs more than on a casual basis but to be honest, I have had some big crushes on some trashy women.

I always feel a sense of empathy for them. Maybe it’s bullshit. Yes, these women are smart enough to not be victims but I think my literary side enjoys this element of storybook vagabond that some of these women represent. There was this part of the story Confessions of an English Opium Eater by Thomas De Quincey where he fell in love at one point with this street girl. He would go see her every day at the same place for a while. They didn’t have shit but each other and that concept really peaks my romantic side (go figure). One day, however, she is gone. He doesn’t know how or where or what happened to her. I think he looked all over the city but never found her. That’s the kind of shit that happens in this life. We have things. We have people. We have loved ones. We become attached to things the way they are and then…

Things change at the drop of a hat. 1 year. 5 years. 10 or 12 or 15 of 35 or 60 years of our lives we have things or people or pets or whatever that we love, that we grow fond of and attached to and then one day, in one moment those things are GONE. We walk into a room and someone we love is dead and purple faced. Your dog is floating in the swimming pool. You watch another dog have a heart attack and die in front of you, because of something you did. Another dog you love dearly goes mad and gets dangerous and you have to take him in and get him put to sleep. A girl you date who tells you all the time how amazing you are, and how she wants to pursue a future with you, suddenly changes her mind out of the blue one day. All the things she seemed to love about you in the past are the same things she says she doesn’t like about you now.

Things we love, and grow accustomed to do not stay forever. We have to lose them some day. It’s just the way things work…

But where there is pain, sometimes there is pleasure. Some of us are so accustomed to a little pain maybe it would feel strange if there wasn’t an element of it in everyday life. Maybe that appeals to us. So maybe a chick who has some dark side appeals to us as much as her good side that might be buried in the midst of that darkness (and vice versa). After a moment of talking to the Latina, I found out she wasn’t there to BUY the Adderall, she was there to sell it. She told me about the lady who was coming to meet her, who came to meet her every week, same time, same place. The lady didn’t want her to know where she lived or worked or really any personal information about her.

I looked at Latina. She was smiling, dressed nice, put together well. You wouldn’t think she was a drug dealer. I’m not even sure she was, but if she’s waiting at a market to push Adderall on some random it’s kind of logical to think she probably doesn’t do it with just this one person. We flirted. The conversation got a little sexual pretty fast, not blatently but more punny like. I told her I had a blog. She asked if it was about sex, and I answered her honestly.

“Sometimes. It’s about my personal life but about all sorts of random shit. It’s not just about sex, but let’s say you and I hooked up. I might be tempted to write about it.”

She gave me kind of a hard time but I explained it was all anonymous. I ended up giving her my number after a few more minutes of bullshitting and not before she said to me, “I bet you have a lot of sex,” and off I went. I got close to my car and I heard a voice behind me. It was a man, and I knew who it was. The guy who was leaning against the building, the one who warned me about my car rolling, was approaching me. I turned around and told him the truth. “Man, look, I’m broke like you.” I’m not working right now either.

But the thing is, I still feel obligated to share what I do have. So, for the extra effort of him warning me about my car, which I know he did to score points with me so he could solicit me for some money, I gave him $1. That’s really all I could afford. I jumped in my car and realized. I had hotdogs, bologna and other things but no bread. All I eat if I eat bread is sprouted protein bread. I’m trying to convince myself that I am on some sort of diet and eating healthy so I buy healthy things. So off to Trader Joes.

Once I got there I drove by the front window on my way to the parking garage, and noticed something that made my heart race a little. I saw this chick working one of the registers and she had something about her that Instantly turned me on. Something I found so fucking hot that I noticed it, even though I was out in the street driving by. I had to meet her…

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One response to “A Day in the Life of a Modern Day Seducer with Sleep Apnea Part II

  1. Ok this is part 2.I was thinking that I’d already read this until I read it lol.

    This article made me laugh,cry and laugh again lol.It’s definitely true about being too attached to things which we will lose one day.I guess that’s 1 moral of this story.

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