this morning {afternoon [opposite of] delight}

30 Jul

It takes a bold woman to walk the streets of NYC in boxers, a t-shirt, and flip-flops from the nail salon. It takes an even bolder one to do it while walking 18 blocks that include Fifth, Park and Madison. And yet an even bolder one to do it at 430 on a Friday afternoon. Sometimes I look back and wish that I felt just a tiny shred of shame for my behavior… sadly, I rarely do. 🙂

Another sad fact is that I basically had to beg for these clothes. Beg. And freaking stick-up-his butt, late twenty-something RealEstate Reginald finally caved–but he was bitter about it till the end.

Now call me crazy, but if I were a boy and I had just delivered a downright terrible sexual performance in what should have been a matinĂ©e of Afternoon Delight, I would do everything I could to butter the girl up after. Or at very least, I would do my best not to be a doucher right after for fear the girl would REALLY start to get fed-up. It’s the least I could do since I didn’t bring my A-game. But hey! Maybe that’s because in the world where I am a boy, I am actually some form of a gentleman… Cue the BeyoncĂ© song.

Really though, Reginald. Don’t lure me into your apartment on a lovely Friday afternoon, after I’ve just gotten off of a 9-hour shift at work that started way too early on a way too hungover morning, not deliver on the lunch you promised me {literal} OR the dessert you promised me {figurative}, and expect to get off easily. Not. Going. To. Happen.

The bottom line is this: I don’t need you to buy my dinner if you want to hook up with me; I can buy my own dinner {I like my life too much to waste time on forced conversation}. But if we make a plan to hook-up, AT LEAST deliver on the hooking-up part. I’m a busy woman, and frankly, that  ten minutes in bed today is time I will never get back. Thus, it is time, dear friends, for RealEstate Reginald to go.


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