Guess who's bizack?
So, most of you probably don't remember me, so allow me to re-introduce myself, my name is ... I almost typed HOV but had to reel that in for a second. Well, you can check the bio and you'll know exactly who I am.
In my return to Creative Loafing's Bangtown, I'm interested in sharing stories of the good, bad and ugly sides of dating in the Queen City. I know I can't be alone in this journey to uncover the one, and we all have to kiss a few frogs and THOTS before you find your Prince Charming or Princess Not a Hoe, am I right?
Let's kick off with a story I had no business eavesdropping on but couldn't stop myself. The names have been changed to protect the dumb and innocent, so buckle up — this could get a little ... wet.
The story begins at a typical summer Saturday cookout. Maybe it was a fish fry, hell, I don't know. Like I said, I wasn't there. The female protagonist of this tale, let's call her Ann, is in her early 30s, newly divorced and testing the dating waters. While hanging out by the grill, she catches the roaming eye of a man named Brett. They start chatting it up and hee-hawing: The conversation is good, energy is right, and she's finding out all the essentials.
1. Single. Check.
2. Works TWO jobs. Check.
3. Has been at both jobs for more than 10 years. "This means stability," she says, so we'll just check that off, too.
4. One child. Check.
5. His body is muscular and toned. Check. Check. Check.
Brett likes his beer though. Since he looks like he works out, Ann is OK with it. But once Brett starts throwing back the brew, his lips become a bit loose.
Brett informs Ann that he is packing a mighty punch and can throw down, blow her back out, and make her beg for more. *side-eye* Ann laughs uncomfortably, a bit confused as to why this is even a discussion, but Brett just keeps on drinking and talking.
Allow me to interject here real quick: It isn't unheard of for men and women these days to jump into the sex convo during the first meeting, but it is a little much to immediately share your preferences.
Then Brett drops the kicker. "So, uh, you ever peed on someone or had them pee on you?"
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH. All I can hear at this moment is Dave Chappelle's comedy skit "I Want to Piss on You."
Ann's diplomatic response? "I'm not really into that, never been peed on and have never peed on anyone."
Now here's where I question WTF Ann is thinking. This man wants to drizzle beer piss on your boobies, and you're just going to stand there and continue to chit-chat?! RUN GIRL RUN! Next, he'll be squatting over you dropping brown boo-boo balls on your stomach.
Allegedly, Ann did not keep in touch with Pissy but hey, if that's your thang, do you!
Lesson here: If the convo is making you uncomfortable, it's time to get the entire hell out of there!
Want to share your own dating story? Shoot an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. We'll keep your identity a secret — we just want to know what dating in Charlotte really looks like. Surely, it's not all pissing in the wind, is it?
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