It was the summer after high school graduation. I was at a train station in one of the wind shelters, reading a book. Another train patron enters the shelter and waits too. A man, probably late thirties. After awhile he says “would you happen to know when the next train is?” I tell him, continue reading my book. A few minutes later he says, “would you happen to know what time it is?” I look at my watch, and tell him. Continue reading my book. A few minutes later he says “would you happen to want a blowjob?” I managed to keep from laughing out loud and merely smirked and said “umm… no thanks” and went back to reading my book. He left shortly after.
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I spent all day at that site yesterday. My wife and I enjoyed it, the blog writer is a very good writer.
I am still trying to decide if my favorite was the Cougar post or the Coupon Guy from Oklahoma. Classic–both of them.
thanks again Lynn
1991, Indianapolis 500 fairgrounds, the Saturday before the race. I had driven out with my brother from St. Louis, where he was in law school, to meet a bunch of his buddies from NJ who were driving two RVs out for the weekend. My one and only time there, and it was quite a party. We got there Friday night and it was rainy and cold. Hundreds, if not thousands of people were camping for the weekend. Saturday afternoon I went for a walk around the grounds alone. I had already been drinking a few hours and along the way I met many friendly people from all over the country, and most were offering beer and good conversation. At one point I walked past an RV with a pretty cute woman who was sitting by herself. “Want a beer?” she asked. Certainly. “How about doing a beer bong?” Umm… ok! (I was two years out of college and my beer bong skills were still intact.) After that she said, “Do you wanna fool around?” Umm… ok! “Do you have a place we can go? (points to her own RV) My husband is passed out inside.” Umm… I gotta go!
Maybe not as bad as most or that it should be posted here but this past Friday night/Saturday morning, my friends and I (three of us) were propositioned by a woman who stated that she wanted to “replace the money” she just spent buying drinks in a hole-in-the-wall party. Had she left out the quoted remark, it would have passed as normal drucken conversation. Needless to say, we passed. :dubious:
Most vile I’ve heard that worked?
Most vile that didn’t work?
Actually, there was another. About six months ago I was walking to the station on a Saturday evening. I was trailing a group of four or five fourteen-to-sixteen year old girls trying to look thirty-five and instead looking like six year olds playing dress-up with their mummy’s clothes and the entire contents of her make-up case. The “my mother the crack whore” tableau.
You know the sort.
Anyway, a car pulled up on the other side of the road, and the twenty-something driver leaned out the window and started slurring something incomprehensible, but clearly less than pleasant/legal/sanitary at the girls - the only word I could make out was the final “HOWABOUTITEH?” - and flung open his back door.
Wow, thought I. That sort of thing really happens?
But thinking quickly, I stepped onto the grass strip and yelled back. “Thanks for the offer, mate, but I’m straight. You’re not really my type”. For the record, I was 33, 6’4" with a shaved head and around 135 kilograms. I’m not exactly most people’s type myself.
This put him off, somehow. Across three lanes, I could hear his train of thought derailing. I could smell smoke from the gears his thought processes were grinding.
He started up again “Hey, chickies - why don’t you…”
I cut him off - “It’s no good coming on to them once I’ve turned you down, mate - it’d just make them feel cheap”.
He stopped again. “Fuck you, you…”
This was getting easy. “No, I just told you I’m straight. I’d prefer we just stay friends”.
He realised that he was being laughed at by pretty much everyone, closed the back door and peeled out as if to prove that his penis was still an outie. I like to remember that he crashed into a bus when he screamed around the corner. He didn’t, but I like to remember it that way.
I assume that the girls got to wherever they were going, drank themselves into oblivion and were cheerfully date-raped. A classic fable of Stanmore.
The resident lothario at my local pub sat down beside me and told me that if I went home with him I wouldn’t be disappointed. When I told him “thanks, but I’m not interested” he scanned the room and then pointed out – and I mean he literally used his index finger to point out – two women in the bar he assured me would attest to his sexual prowess. When I replied that the thought of him one day pointing at me as a hook-up reference made me want to take a Silkwood shower, he shrugged and blithely moved on to someone else.
And add me to the list of women who have been physically restrained as they tried to walk away from some persistent jagoff. Men who’ve grabbed my arm and barked “where do you think you’re going?” or “I’m not finished talking to you yet” were made to regret it.
Only if you give a receipt, honey.
I haven’t had men point out women who could give references, but I have had several men tell me that they could totally satisfy my every need. Total strangers, mind you, thought that they knew and could fulfill my every sexual fantasy.
I’ve also had guys try to restrain me. I’ve never kicked them in the balls, but I did break a couple ribs on one guy, and I’ve found shin-kicking to be a very effective tactic, too.
Years back, we had a partner at our law firm who was notorious for propositioning, or even grabbing, women on the support staff. One secretary, fed up with him, very politely pointed to the picture of her large, muscular, black husband on her desk and said “this is my husband. He’s picking me up after work today. I’d love for you to meet him.”
The lawyer, being a nerdy little man with racist tendendcies (meaning he was terrifed of black people), never bothered her again.
Yep, thanks!
http://whywomenhatemen.blogspot.com/ - Priceless.
From the blog:
Aside from how silly that is, sexual in your windows? Does that have anything to do with window sex? And does this blog have a message board? Someone needs to make one devoted to a similar topic; I could post there for years and never run out of stories.
One more, from a distant acquaintance in high school… he used to brag about the great success rate that he’d get by telling girls, “You may as well blow me, because I’m going to tell everyone you did anyway.”