فيزا ☘️☘️
'Honestly... I'm not even sure I'm into women in general'. He answers, with a little element of sarcastic and self slandering in his words, because this guy might also be drunk as fuck... but he never loses his sense of humour. And as you can tell (and as I've been knowing since forever), he never, ever misses a chance to slander himself. He's so real for that, so fucking funny to try and make me (a total stranger, he thinks) believe that he's not into women at all, rigorously shrugging as to say 'guilty as charged' to my previous comment about his tastes in them, just for shit and giggles ... and needless to say, we're both laughing here. Soundly. And he's letting me know that to him we're friends now, by poking my cheek, smiling his ass off... and surprisingly, also by handing his beer over to me like he's asking me to take a pull from it, and seal our newfound friendship indeed. Drinking from his same bottle seems like a little bit of a liability, because there could be a chance that he's kissed or done things with someone else, given that he's basically wooing me, a total stranger, very fucking shamelessly, and his flirty, adventurous eyes are really giving it away for him. The odds that some other chick might've been where I'm now, today or yesterday or the day before, are high as fuck, higher than Sean is now for instance, and it makes me feel like shit. But I wanna trust him, I wanna think that he hasn't, I want to believe that he won't give me herpes and that he's simply flirting with me (and friendzoning me too?) because I do somehow remind him of myself, aka his girlfriend... hence, I grab the bottle from his hands and finish the very little of the beer that's left in it for him. First, because I'm thirsty, and beer sounds like a good idea now. And second, because I reckon he's had enough alcohol for today and for tomorrow too, and I'm willing to take it for him so that he won't have to take any of it anymore. Does this make sacrificial, compassionate, stupid, or just a reasonable, mildly worried, loving girlfriend ?
'You definitely look and sound like you're into women'. I bite right back at him, more or less when I catch him staring at me head to toe. Cleavage included, although I have B cups and I just can't understand why he's even taking the bother to look at them like they're something. With no malice, because he ain't no Cuntrell, but just with a sprinkle of admiration, a little bit of inquisitiveness, and lots of masculine curiosity in his gorgeous mocha eyes. Just like he did the night when we actually, actually first met. The memories of that one are still vivid in my mind, in the best and in the most wholesome possible way... and the fact that I'm getting a deja vu of Cuntrell's party every other minute is the proof that maybe, Sean and I are just meeting eachother for the first time again, tonight. Without a Honda Four, but the vibes are about the same. It doesn't really make sense to put it in such words, as you'll have to agree with me when I say that you can't meet a person for the first time, for the second time... but then, how would you explain the fact that this 'meetup' is as comedic, as sketchy and as filled with nonsense and flirty looks as our first actual one ever was? Why can I see a pattern in things, in the way that he's slandering himself and doing his best to make me laugh and believe that he's not into women? As he did the night we met, I told him I wouldn't have minded pulling an all nighter with him, and he told me something like 'hey, I'm gay. Don't set the bar too high with me, unless it's the bar that serves booze'. And then proceeded to yeet his arm around my shoulders, walk me out of the crowd, and walk me to the actual bar?
'You definitely look like a woman... and sound like my type'. He answers, and I naturally, burst laughing out loud at his comment because I just can't believe that out of all the ways he could've 'charmed' me (he's my boyfriend and he doesn't have to charme me thus far, but he doesn't know it so bless his silly soul)... he decided to do that by saying that I look like I'm a woman. As if it wasn't obvious that I AM biologically and anatomically a woman... I mean, it's not, as Gerry always swears that I'm a man with lip fillers, and that there's a whole restaurant crew in Denver thinking I'm a Thai ladyboy. Courtesy of that fucking disgusting, fucking uncalled for fellatio prank thing. But I know I look unmistakably like a woman, either from the front, from the back or from the side (eeew, my side profile), especially when I'm all pimped up as I am right now... so fuck what people think of me. Fuck all of 'em who think I have a whole penis between my legs. And bless Sean, because he's managing to keep the level of nonsense in this exchange as high as it was the first time we ever met, and with that he's making me giggle my (girly) bum off to no end. All funny as heck nonsense aside, and all cringey wooing aside too... he's also telling me that I unmistakably sound like his type. Probably in the way that I am sarcastic, playful, sassy, quick witted and have a foreign accent that sometimes really comes through. I know he ain't lying, just sprouting facts as they are although he's shitfaced and he doesn't remember that I'm not just his type, but his fucking person... so, what's bad about this ridiculous sitch? Little to nothing. Of course, if we don't consider the fact that he's flirting with me like it's the only thing he can do, totally ignoring that he happens to have a girlfriend and that I am. That girlfriend. Indeed. But he can't recognise me for how drunk he is, and his drunkenness is giving him the spunk to try his best luck with this 'total stranger' over here. So, that's what he does to keep himself busy and to keep his ego well boosted when I'm not around? Wooing chicks in hotel corridors, calling them drop dead fucking gorgeous outta nowhere, flirting with them, and telling them that they're... basically... his type? Huh? I thought he was about a thousand times better than this. But I can't snap at him because I genuinely don't know if this is a joke carried a little too far, if he's just pretending he likes me so that he can later tell me about the dramatic as heck story of him and his girlfriend so that I can give him advice ... or what else. I'll give him some more time, and see how it goes. At the end of the day, it can't go that bad. He's no Gerry Cuntrell, and if his end goal was to bed me and cheat on his 'girlfriend', he would've already laid my hand on his crotch and dragged me to his room. Cheating is in the subtle things, not just in the broad, upfront ones... and I know that I would've felt cheated on, if I surprised him gabbing a girl the same way he's gabbing me now. But his smile is too pure to be a cheater's, his eyes are so tame... and it's for both things, both equally shoved in my face, that I'm managing to keep my faith in him intact. Hopefully he doesn't betray it once more.
