Ok…so…Joyce had just bought me an expensive dinner and given me an iPhone X I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep. I’d driven her home in her Tesla, and I’d pulled the car into her garage and…
Yeah. Exactly. Oh shit.
Before y’all read any further, you can leave a comment saying what you would have done in my place lol.
Don’t get me wrong: Joyce isn’t some ugly old hag. She’s not even that old. She’s not my age, but it’s not like she’s turning 54 next week or anything. So it’s not like she creeps me out when she touches me. Not at all…I kinda enjoyed it when she started playing with my hair last week. We (was it her or me?) were taking it slower than I’ve ever taken it with a chick…but I’m kinda liking it. (I’m also getting laid by Monica and Candy, so I’m not exactly desperate for sex. I can afford to take it slow with Joyce lol.)
She also did more than play with my hair last week, and I did more than let her play with my hair…but, before that, our good-bys in the car were just good-bys. We hadn’t broken left fielder Dave’s dumbass “touch barrier” yet. That happened when she played with my hair.
Ordinarily I’d have reached over the transmission and done what I usually do when dropping off a date. The problem was the iPhone: would she think that I was making a move because she’d just given me a very expensive present?
And I didn’t have a whole lot of time to decide, either. Y’all have been on dates. You know how small the window for making a move is.
I finally figured that I was a healthy red-blooded all-American 25 year old boy and I’d do what I did when I unwrapped the phone: follow my natural instincts.
So then I was in Joyce’s living room (it’s full of more knicknacks and doodads than I’ve ever seen in one room) and she’d locked her hatefulass cats up in the bathroom…which meant she was expecting me to stay a while. (I don’t know whether Moomoo and Numnums hate me more than I hate them, or whether it’s the other way around. I’m also allergic to the stupidass things. Joyce doesn’t know that I always take an antihistamine whenever I’m going somewhere they have cats. If she knew, she might not lock the dumbass things up.)
She’s started keeping a supply of Stone IPA in the refrigerator, so she didn’t even have to ask if I wanted anything. I kind of needed the beer. There was an edge that needed taking off.
So off went the edge…and we kept our clothes on. Well…most of them. As for how far we got…remember I’m a shortstop. She didn’t turn off the lights…so she could tell me my eyes were like sapphires, I guess.
At one point, she also said:
“You know you don’t have to feel like you have to do anything just because I gave you the phone. I just wanted to make you happy. No strings attached, I promise.”
I guess that means I can keep the phone. Joyce isn’t like most chicks I know and from what I can tell she means what she says. If Monica told me “no strings attached”, I’d know I was in deep, deep shit. Still, I wasn’t sure how “I just wanted to make you happy” went with “no strings attached”…
And don’t forget what we were doing when she told me.
So we did what we were doing for a while, until the cats started throwing themselves into the bathroom door and Joyce realized how late it was. So I guess you can say she kicked me out, but it was time to leave. Moomoo and Numnums may hate me, but they kinda saved my ass too.
So me and the phone got into my shitbox and I drove home. With no idea about what to do, about the phone and about Joyce. It was almost 2 AM. Too late to drop in on Keaton. But I needed his advice
Although the person whose advice I really needed was Meemaw’s.
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