Dinner with Joyce (Why not?)

I've told y'all about how I met Joyce in the store, and about how she asked for my number in the most awkward way I've ever been asked for it. She called a few days later. And straight out asked me out to dinner. I thought "why not?", and said "I'd like to". We agreed … Continue reading Dinner with Joyce (Why not?) →

Joyce

As Monica has no time for social media other than her own, and she doesn’t even know that I’ve started this blog, I reckon I’m pretty safe writing about things you ordinarily wouldn’t want your girlfriend to know about. Like Joyce. It’s just a fact of life that I get hit on a lot at … Continue reading Joyce →

The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 5 (and last)

After getting me in his truck and not telling me where we were going Keaton pulled the truck into a parking lot in a deserted-looking part of Arcadia. I knew the place. I'd been to it before. K*******s. It's a topless sports bar. That's a polite way of saying it's a strip club with a … Continue reading The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 5 (and last) →

The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 4

Monica ended our Valentine's Day date by telling me she had to be at work early the next morning. The evening had been a disaster, so I was expecting it. Still, that was the most money I'd ever spent on a girl just to get blown off. I got back in the car and drove … Continue reading The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 4 →

The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 2

More of the story of my miserable Valentine's Day this year, after I'd gotten to Monica's apartment and things started going wronger than a monkey driving a lawn mower. Monica went back to finish dressing even before I could hand her the flowers and candy. When she was finally ready (and I was starting to … Continue reading The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 2 →

The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 3

I promised that the evening would get even worse. Here's how it did. We finally got a table, and at least Monica didn’t get pissed off about where it was. She’s done that. I don’t know who she tries to impress, but having to change tables makes me want to crawl under one. It’s a … Continue reading The Valentine’s Day Massacre Part 3 →