Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.July 18, 1991: A Diary Entry
Posted on November 13, 201010:12 AM
I should be laying out—but no, it’s overcast. Totally shitty.
I got a call from Kelly earlier this morning. Do I know a Kelly? NO, but Joe does quite intimately – she’s his girlfriend. Apparently ol’ Joe lied to her about going out on Sunday night by telling her he was going to Ventura to visit his uncle. Apparently Joe lies a lot. He’s not 25, he’s 23 and not only did he lie to me about that but he lied to her when they first started going out. Of course he must’ve thought I was older to have bothered to lie to me ’cause Kelly’s 28 The dorky guy left number lying around for anyone to see and that explains why I’ve been getting calls from people hanging up and the message of the muted voice saying, “Leave Joe alone.” At the time I thought it was “Leave Jill Alone” – the voice was so muted. She asked me what I look like just ’cause she was curious – we are total opposites – she has long dark hair and is 5’8″. But I did fib a little too – I said we had met and talked and I gave him my phone number as like, “Give me a call some time.” She said she didn’t think we had slept together ’cause Joe’s not like that. My fat ass he’s not like that. He was kissing me quite a bit, had his hands in my skirt, and really wanted to give me a ride home. He also asked me to fall in love with him. But because I didn’t want to cause any unnecessary strive, I did not mention any of those things. She said they might be there together this week and what would happen if I went up to them and talked to Kelly like I knew her? He was actually going to try to see me behind her back. That’s kind of slimy but commendable – something I’d do.
I hate ants! They are all around my building and sometimes come inside.
10:58 AM
I like the kind of lies that just flow forth without much thought – the ones that are just told. I’m not quite sure why but I’d like to be dishonest to a certain extent. But not Henry. Oh god, now I feel like I should tell him about everything. He’d just say it’s my choice and my decision but I just want to tell him – not to brag but so I don’t have to think about it or feel guilty for not feeling guilty.
I want to get a handwriting analysis book but I haven’t seen any at work. Laura says I should dump Henry ’cause he’s inconsiderate and flaky. My kitty is very cut. I give her kisses on her head.
10:52 P.M.
D.J. says I should get rid of Henry too – I’ve invested too much time and energy not to have gotten more by now.
[Do you think that once we have sex you'll get away with not seeing me very much? 'Cause if you do, I'd like to end anything more than a friendship now, before we have sex. Would you have seen me by now if I had had sex with you that Monday almost three weeks ago? I've tried not to be too demanding but I believe things are getting to be a wee bit ridiculous. Am I supposed to be being "faithful" to you? Yes, I am a young, vital woman with "needs" and what I would like very much is for you to meet them – that means more than just talking on the phone – even though I do love your voice. If you're not willing to do something then I'm sorry. I know it would help if I had a car. Oh shit, now it seems like I'm being unfair. But I would also like for you to not be so flaky – at least to me. If you say you're going to do something then do it. Don't mention something casually unless you mean it 'cause I don't take it casually. If something comes up that you can't help, call. I just have to know that you're putting some energy into this thing. I've put quite a bit – maybe it's not totally obvious but most of the time's been spent worrying. Now that seems like nothing either. I like you a lot – I think about you all the time. My favorite conversation was the one when your voice sounded funny – on July 3. You talked about how you feel (or is it felt?) and how you would like us to be. Are you afraid of something? Because, hell, I am too – we all are. I want to take a chance with you, will you take one with me?]
Now that I’ve done that, he probably won’t call tonight and then I’ll forget about it and things will continue as they have. I’m tired of being frustrated and unsure. Why can’t things just be easy? Because then I wouldn’t want them. I don’t know what my neighbors are doing but I think it’s a little late at night for them to be moving furniture. He won’t call just because I’m expecting him to.
Oh, I Guess I Do Know You
Posted on November 01, 2010If I received “I don’t know who the fuck you are” in response to sending someone photos of my naughty bits and asking to hook up, I’d probably give up and feel kind of humiliated. But then I’m not a drunk, horny guy. Why drunk, horny guys still surprise me with their tenacity, I’m not quite sure.
After hearing from – and seeing – this guy, and responding in such a way, I thought that’d be the end of it. I was wrong, as I often am. He texted me more. He wanted to know what I was doing as early – though I’m guessing it was late, not early, for him – as 6a.m.
The early morning messages were of this sort:
Hey hunny!
Can I come see you!:)xoxo
And by this time I had figured out who he was. I fucked him once – twice at the most – well over a year ago, and possibly as long as two years ago. He must have had a good time because he kept trying to get me to go to his place on Treasure Island. I never did because there’s only one bus line that goes there and I couldn’t spend the night because I had to take care of the animals.
I don’t know if this guy hasn’t gotten together with any chicks since, or if I’m one of the many he goes through when horny, but the contact has ramped up recently.
He left me a voice mail message that made it clear he was contacting me when he was intoxicated. You can hear the message here: 10
Just a couple of nights ago I got this:
You do know me though We used to get together but we just havent in a long while. I moved out to the east bay for a while. But just recently moved back here to the city into the mission on horace between 25 th and 26th just off folsom and I remember you being right around here,… Any interest in some fun. Your cat used to like watching us …:)
It’s true, Joaquin does like to watch.
Then he asked if I had a sexy Halloween costume that involved fishnets. I responded that I don’t do Halloween. Nonetheless, I got this lovely picture: 
Aren’t I lucky? I was even luckier when I got this:
I could come visit you in the middle of the night if you want after you’ve come home from your Halloween Party with your sexy outfit on ready to get Freaky! :P xxx oooh
I responded that he must have trouble reading due to his intoxication since I had already told him that I don’t do Halloween, I was not going to a party, and I had no costume.
I just thought you might want someone to come over and go down on you, get you feeling proper. Id love to feel your mouth on the top of my head.
I informed him that I was doing just fine.
Shucks, ok, then. Well maybe I can convince you for some other time … Will you send me a pic or two to jack off too ,… Im so hott for you right now! Please dont say that makes me a looney … I just want all up on you right now….forces of rejection and insatiable desire!
I didn’t respond.
I swear. True story.
July 4, 1991: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 22, 201012:32 A.M.
I don’t think I have a right to be this happy. I’m overwhelmed. He said he couldn’t get me out of his head. That’s not all. God, I I deserve this? I feel so good. And it will end soon. But I can enjoy for now. He moved out when he was sixteen – I didn’t know that. There’s a lot about him I don’t know but I’m going to learn eventually. He said he thought I was “a babe” the first time he saw me. That’s so sweet. And he likes my body. He says I’m in good shape – yep, we’ll keep the illusion until I actually am. He has a cold and sore throat so his voice was all scratchy and he sounded quite different than usual. And the conversation we had was different too. Is this right? Everything has gone how I’ve wanted it to – that in itself seems so strange to me. I just realized that it might seem as though he came over. He did not. His car broke down. I’m hungry. He talked about his father – in the present tense. I didn’t know what to do or what to say so I said nothing. Someday we’ll talk about it but I have to be ready too.
July 3, 1991: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 19, 201010:15 P.M.
Henry’s supposed to call “around” ten so he’ll probably never call. I called his house – he’s not even home.
He called last night and woke me up. Said he couldn’t sleep and he was being so nasty. He asked me what I was wearing – I lied and said nothing – and he said he wished he would’ve come over ’cause he felt certain pressure. Then he talked nasty some more and asked me to “come with him.” So I asked, where? I was half asleep so I don’t think I should be blamed for my stupidity. So he talked nasty some more and told me what to do. And we came at the same time.
His voice was sexy and he was saying all the right things. He said I was so sexy that’s why he was doing that. And he got me to blow off [Sister] (not that I mind that) so I could be home so he could come over to get some action. Does he have to work tomorrow? I want him now. I couldn’t concentrate all day at work ’cause I just kept thinking about how hot he is and how good he could make me feel – tonight now. Maybe he’s at practice. I want him here now god will I die? Will I want to?
Party, Frat Style (Part 4)
Posted on May 22, 2010[Continued from "Party, Frat Style (Part 3)."]
I wanted very desperately to go home. I was in no condition to ride my scooter home. My boyfriend wasn’t scheduled to get off work until 2am. I was stuck for several hours.
Once on the frat house’s first floor I found a vacant couch and sat down. The room stopped spinning for a bit. However, I did not have control of my head. It bobbed around baby-like and finally came to a rest on the back of the couch. Had I opened my eyes I would have been staring at the ceiling. I did not open my eyes, though, until someone sat down next to me.
I still couldn’t hold my head up so I rolled it to the side to bring my couch mate into my field of vision. It was a guy. He began talking to me. Obviously he didn’t think my conversational skills were important because he continued to talk to me despite my lack of coherent response. The guy kept scooting closer to me, too.
Even in my blotto state I could tell the guy was hitting on me. I could also tell that I was most definitely not interested. Back in college when the Ex and I were living together, before we got married, I didn’t cheat on him, not even in my mind. I had no interest in anyone other than the Ex. Who was, of course not yet the Ex.
I had to get away from the guy on the couch. I checked my watch. I still had a long time before I could call home and actually reach my boyfriend. This was before everyone had cell phones, which is why I was both wearing a watch and had to wait until the Ex got home to call him. I gathered my strength, balanced myself, and got off the couch. I didn’t bother to politely excuse myself; I just walked away. Well, I probably stumbled away.
I was afraid to sit down anywhere for fear I’d be called upon to carry on a conversation. I had some time to kill before I could call home. I walked up to the house’s second floor.
The second floor consisted of bedrooms and communal bathrooms. Each of the bedrooms had a locked door and its own phone line. In my drunken/stoned stupor I knocked on every door I encountered. Most of the doors went unanswered. I think I even knocked on a bathroom door. Finally, someone answered his door. They were all guys, it was a frat house.
He let me in his room. I don’t know if the guy thought he might have had a chance with me, but as soon as I told him I needed to use his phone to call my boyfriend he resigned himself to playing video games while I called home. Or maybe I called the Emeryville Trader Joe’s and asked to have the Ex paged. I was desperate to talk to him so he could pick me up as soon as was humanly possible.
I called. I talked to the Ex. He was on his way. I left the house and sat on the curb near my scooter. I sat there for quite some time. I did not, however, puke. Eventually the Ex picked me up and I explained the evening’s sequence of events.
The next day, after I slept off my drunk, I took some sort of public transportation into Berkeley to retrieve my scooter. I took the scooter ride of shame home to my cute Oakland apartment I shared with my boyfriend.
One frat party is enough.
I swear. True story.
Correctional Officer, Part 7
Posted on March 22, 2010[Continued from "Correctional Officer, Part 6."]
Once it was clear the Ex and I were breaking up, he told me that he had cheated on me. I didn’t care. I cheated on him more times than he knew. More times than he now knows. Telling him would have only served to hurt him. I think the reason he told me he cheated was to try to hurt me. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t get me. I didn’t care that he fucked someone else, and I didn’t think he should have cared that I fucked someone else. I asked for details because I thought it was more interesting than anything.
Interesting because I never suspected he cheated on me. When he told me when and how of his cheating, it made sense. He had gone on a mountain bike ride with a group he found on Craig’s List or some such thing. I encouraged him to use the mountain bike that pretty much just took up space in our apartment. He was gone the whole day. I went out with some friends that night. He was supposed meet up with us but I couldn’t reach him. I figured he was somewhere in the mountains where cell reception was spotty. He eventually came home very late.
He told me that after the bike ride the group smoked some seriously strong hash. So strong that he didn’t feel like he could drive. He opted to sleep off the high in the car.
At the time the Ex and I had sex usually at least once a week. It had been longer than that when I requested a romp. He declined. I asked what was wrong that he didn’t want to have sex and he told me that he was no longer attracted to me because I had gained weight. I cried, and went for a walk.
Fast forward to August 2007 when he told me the truth. The truth was that he fucked one of the other mountain bikers and the condom broke. He freaked out about the condom breaking and went to get STI tests. When he was awaiting the test results he didn’t want to have sex with me just in case he had contracted something. Sure, that was nice of him. However, his method of avoiding sex with me was downright mean.
Even after we were friends and I explained to him why it was so mean to say that to me, he didn’t get it. He will probably go to his grave thinking the ends – avoiding the possibility of exposing me to an STI – justified the means – telling me he found me unattractive. He will go to his grave wrong.
He was also wrong to call Correctional Officer’s wife. Apparently, along with going through my email, the Ex also went through my cell phone bill and called any number he didn’t recognize. He figured out that one of the numbers belonged to CO. The Ex claimed he wanted to talk to CO, probably in some sort of macho posturing, “Stay away from my woman” bullshit, but a woman answered the phone.
The Ex later claimed that he felt it was his responsibility to tell her that her husband had fucked me so she could get tested. My ex-husband was unusually paranoid about STIs. In an illogical and stupid way. Because if I was clean and only fucking him, and he was clean, then how could I have given anything to a guy who, until he fucked me, was monogamous with his wife, who was supposedly only fucking him? So it was the Ex’s fault that I was called a fucking whore by the wife of the guy with whom I’d had one awkward go.
I was angry at the Ex for making that call, because it was unnecessary and only served to fuck up yet another relationship. This is another thing about which the Ex and I will never agree. He thought I was overly concerned for CO and his marriage. Truth be told, I had no clue what was going on with CO’s marriage because after the one call where he hung up I thought it best to cut off contact. I was concerned about my friend, CO, not the guy I fucked, CO.
However, I had no one to talk to about any of the shit that was going on in my life. Because I was so fucking horrible as to fuck someone not my husband, all – yes, ALL – of our supposedly mutual friends cut me off. The Ex was supposedly some sort of saint – unless you were married to him. The one friend who would be on my side I wasn’t allowed to talk to for fear of fucking up his marriage along with my own.
The Ex was so dumb as to tell me he hoped me and CO would be happy together. Really? He thought I’d move to that shit town where CO lived and he and I would live happily ever after with his kid? The Ex clearly didn’t know me at all. I don’t have to be in love to fuck. I don’t even have to like the person. But the Ex thought I wanted to break up for a relationship with CO. What an idiot.
I did see Correctional Officer again ….
[To be continued, obviously.]
I swear. True story.
May 7, 1991, 10:22pm: A Diary Entry
Posted on March 20, 2010Laura came by for a visit. I knew she would. Now she’s gonna go work out. I can’t because I don’t have my damn membership card with me. I found my neighbor’s paycheck stub. I’ll have to return it. Maybe in their mailbox. For some reason I don’t want to talk to them. Why am I afraid of people? That’s not good if I want to travel a lot. I’ll probably do so alone and since I don’t like being alone I should meet people but I’m afraid of them. Not good. I’m tired but Henry hasn’t called me yet. He most likely won’t. I should just go to sleep. God, I wish I had a life. I have an idea: Henry brings the keys over himself tonight and surprises me. He knows I like surprises and he would be so happy that I would be so happy that I would be so happy to get my stuff back that he would kiss me. Why doesn’t he kiss me?
