![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
One Five Six
Sep. 6th, 2003 03:53 amOkay, long story short since I've been up for 20 hours and I'm recovering from a drunk and I'm really tired and my guts are bloated and all I want to do is sleep. But I feel the need to say this first.
Tonight my lips were licked by a girl wearing nothing but a fishnet bodysuit, a tiny thong, and black high heels.
That's as short as that story can get.
Much longer version:
One of the problems I'd been rolling around in my head the last couple of days had to do with the fact that I am, to put it bluntly, very very lonely. This is a problem of my own doing. I push people away. Some very interesting people who I think are really nice and are just great people try to talk to me or otherwise get to know me, but I have a tendency to push them away. It's happened countless times. I don't know why I do it. I don't like it. I think it might have something to do with that pesky self-loathing thing I have going for myself. Maybe, maybe not. In any case, I'm pretty much alone, and up until recently I had accepted that as my station in life.
Except... you ever hear on TV, or read in a book, where someone says there's a void in their lives? Well, right. There's a big freakin' void in my life. I'm having a hard time pinning down exactly what it is, because it's so many things. It occurred to me a while ago that it's been years since I was really held by anybody. Touched for a long period of time. The longest I had been touched was by Courtney when I broke my leg -- she knelt beside me and held my hand while the EMTs worked on me. I can't remember really being touched before then.
But it's more than physical touch, that's just one of the things that's missing. Something else is comraderie. That's missing too. I have very few bonds with people. Those bonds that I once had, I've let decay. Again, this is my fault. I am not a pleasant person. I've never liked people, and I've never enjoyed being with them. Unfortunately, this state of mind seems to have spread to the people I consider to be my friends. This is far, far, FAR from healthy. I have no doubt that I've lost friends because of this new outlook. I regret that... I don't know how this happened... how or why I turned into such a recluse. But it's taken its toll.
I sit in the same place... in the same... oh.... five foot by five foot area... for most of the night, every night. It's when I go to bed that I become most aware that something is missing in my life. I go to bed every night completely unfulfilled. The feeling of accomplishment I look for in life...? It's not there. But this is the weird thing. This is the thing that really throws me for a loop, because I never expected to feel anything like this. When I go to bed some nights... I have this huge king sized bed, right? When I go to bed some nights, laying there in this giant bed, alone, I look at all the wide open space around me and I want to fill it, not with something, but with someone. It's almost exactly like that corny old country song... single sleepin' in a double bed. And it's not an urge to fuck, it's an urge to just have someone there, if you can dig.
So I've got all this running through my head, and more. And my friend Lindsay calls me Thursday and gives me advance warning that he's taking me out Friday. Doesn't say what we're doing, just says he's taking me out. But I know Lindsay.... if he's taking me out, it probably involves either barely dressed or undressed women. I've been through this before, but I'm trying to keep an open mind about my current situation. About my current drought of friends, my intense desire for companionship, everything I just mentioned. I weighed it against my dislike for strip clubs. And I thought... I have nothing to lose.
So I went. We went to a club called Sammy's. Probably the best strip club in Birmingham. High-end. Saw a funny thing while I was there. This has nothing to do with my current situation, but it deserves a mention, anyway. The entire University of Oklahoma football team coaching staff came in shortly after Lindsay and I did and sat down near us and began to get heavily sloshed and later started to feel the girls up. Their behavior got so bad the bouncers were called on them several times. They were never kicked out. Eventually the girls started to ignore them, even though they were waving money around like mad. So... they left. It should be known that the University of Alabama's football coach was fired for doing much the same thing.
Much like the old perverts from Oklahoma, Lindsay and I also got sloshed. He moreso than I, as I was driving, but I got pretty fucked up all the same. Still, we maintained our composure with the girls... for fuck's sake, respect people. Don't grope and grab things. That is the height of rudeness, and the whole operation runs on RESPECT. Hell, any decent relationship balances on respect... that's where it all starts. I'm not much of a football fan, but I sincerely hope Alabama whips the snot out of Oklahoma, just because of those turds behavior... but I doubt it'll happen.
In any case... as part of that whole respect thing I was talking about, it's respectful to tip a girl if you're staring at her goods. And... well, there was this one girl who was wearing a fishnet bodysuit, a bikini thong, and high, high heels... and who did some things that knocked my socks off. And maybe it was the booze or maybe it was just the fact that I had grown some balls (but probably the booze)... I walked up to the stage with a couple of bucks in my hand, and when she came to me I looked at her and said, "You are phenomenal." And I wasn't lying. And I guess she liked that, because she pulled me in closer to her and she proceeded to lick the fuck out of my lower face. I went away happy.
And of course, when she was finished with her dance she came over and gave me a nice kiss and thanked me and told me she thought I was sweet. Wonderful.
All the while Lindsay's having a heart attack because he's been going to these strip clubs for months and nothing like that's happened to him. Now he's calling me the White Velvet Teddy Bear.
All that's well and good. I got a pretty stripper to lick me. And shove her ass in my face. Okay. Well. Okay.
But... and there's always a but... while this is a great source of stimulation and everything, and while there's obviously a sort of companionship going on here, I've gotta ask myself, is this what I want? Nope. Everything within me that is male tells me that I should have been poppin' a boner when that girl did what she did, but I felt nothing. NOTHING. I smiled politely and walked back to my seat and finished my beer. Everything within me that is male tells me that I should go whack off while thinking about this, but I don't think this is gonna be the first thing on my mind the next time I pull the pud. Trust me, I make up more interesting things than that.
I know I should take something away from this experience, but I don't know what it is. I dunno. I know I drank too much beer, and my back and stomach hurts... pepto be my saviour.
Tonight my lips were licked by a girl wearing nothing but a fishnet bodysuit, a tiny thong, and black high heels.
That's as short as that story can get.
Much longer version:
One of the problems I'd been rolling around in my head the last couple of days had to do with the fact that I am, to put it bluntly, very very lonely. This is a problem of my own doing. I push people away. Some very interesting people who I think are really nice and are just great people try to talk to me or otherwise get to know me, but I have a tendency to push them away. It's happened countless times. I don't know why I do it. I don't like it. I think it might have something to do with that pesky self-loathing thing I have going for myself. Maybe, maybe not. In any case, I'm pretty much alone, and up until recently I had accepted that as my station in life.
Except... you ever hear on TV, or read in a book, where someone says there's a void in their lives? Well, right. There's a big freakin' void in my life. I'm having a hard time pinning down exactly what it is, because it's so many things. It occurred to me a while ago that it's been years since I was really held by anybody. Touched for a long period of time. The longest I had been touched was by Courtney when I broke my leg -- she knelt beside me and held my hand while the EMTs worked on me. I can't remember really being touched before then.
But it's more than physical touch, that's just one of the things that's missing. Something else is comraderie. That's missing too. I have very few bonds with people. Those bonds that I once had, I've let decay. Again, this is my fault. I am not a pleasant person. I've never liked people, and I've never enjoyed being with them. Unfortunately, this state of mind seems to have spread to the people I consider to be my friends. This is far, far, FAR from healthy. I have no doubt that I've lost friends because of this new outlook. I regret that... I don't know how this happened... how or why I turned into such a recluse. But it's taken its toll.
I sit in the same place... in the same... oh.... five foot by five foot area... for most of the night, every night. It's when I go to bed that I become most aware that something is missing in my life. I go to bed every night completely unfulfilled. The feeling of accomplishment I look for in life...? It's not there. But this is the weird thing. This is the thing that really throws me for a loop, because I never expected to feel anything like this. When I go to bed some nights... I have this huge king sized bed, right? When I go to bed some nights, laying there in this giant bed, alone, I look at all the wide open space around me and I want to fill it, not with something, but with someone. It's almost exactly like that corny old country song... single sleepin' in a double bed. And it's not an urge to fuck, it's an urge to just have someone there, if you can dig.
So I've got all this running through my head, and more. And my friend Lindsay calls me Thursday and gives me advance warning that he's taking me out Friday. Doesn't say what we're doing, just says he's taking me out. But I know Lindsay.... if he's taking me out, it probably involves either barely dressed or undressed women. I've been through this before, but I'm trying to keep an open mind about my current situation. About my current drought of friends, my intense desire for companionship, everything I just mentioned. I weighed it against my dislike for strip clubs. And I thought... I have nothing to lose.
So I went. We went to a club called Sammy's. Probably the best strip club in Birmingham. High-end. Saw a funny thing while I was there. This has nothing to do with my current situation, but it deserves a mention, anyway. The entire University of Oklahoma football team coaching staff came in shortly after Lindsay and I did and sat down near us and began to get heavily sloshed and later started to feel the girls up. Their behavior got so bad the bouncers were called on them several times. They were never kicked out. Eventually the girls started to ignore them, even though they were waving money around like mad. So... they left. It should be known that the University of Alabama's football coach was fired for doing much the same thing.
Much like the old perverts from Oklahoma, Lindsay and I also got sloshed. He moreso than I, as I was driving, but I got pretty fucked up all the same. Still, we maintained our composure with the girls... for fuck's sake, respect people. Don't grope and grab things. That is the height of rudeness, and the whole operation runs on RESPECT. Hell, any decent relationship balances on respect... that's where it all starts. I'm not much of a football fan, but I sincerely hope Alabama whips the snot out of Oklahoma, just because of those turds behavior... but I doubt it'll happen.
In any case... as part of that whole respect thing I was talking about, it's respectful to tip a girl if you're staring at her goods. And... well, there was this one girl who was wearing a fishnet bodysuit, a bikini thong, and high, high heels... and who did some things that knocked my socks off. And maybe it was the booze or maybe it was just the fact that I had grown some balls (but probably the booze)... I walked up to the stage with a couple of bucks in my hand, and when she came to me I looked at her and said, "You are phenomenal." And I wasn't lying. And I guess she liked that, because she pulled me in closer to her and she proceeded to lick the fuck out of my lower face. I went away happy.
And of course, when she was finished with her dance she came over and gave me a nice kiss and thanked me and told me she thought I was sweet. Wonderful.
All the while Lindsay's having a heart attack because he's been going to these strip clubs for months and nothing like that's happened to him. Now he's calling me the White Velvet Teddy Bear.
All that's well and good. I got a pretty stripper to lick me. And shove her ass in my face. Okay. Well. Okay.
But... and there's always a but... while this is a great source of stimulation and everything, and while there's obviously a sort of companionship going on here, I've gotta ask myself, is this what I want? Nope. Everything within me that is male tells me that I should have been poppin' a boner when that girl did what she did, but I felt nothing. NOTHING. I smiled politely and walked back to my seat and finished my beer. Everything within me that is male tells me that I should go whack off while thinking about this, but I don't think this is gonna be the first thing on my mind the next time I pull the pud. Trust me, I make up more interesting things than that.
I know I should take something away from this experience, but I don't know what it is. I dunno. I know I drank too much beer, and my back and stomach hurts... pepto be my saviour.
