When you know you’re not getting any

This adventure beginning at one of my favorite wine bars. I was just subjected to the date from hell. It’s an experience no one should have.

I proceeded to order a vodka double because wine can’t fix this.  I’ve also been informed by my bestie that I’ll be meeting the guy she’s been dating tonight with our friends.

I order another vodka double, lol.

After meet and greet I go to the bar to settle up my tab. I see a slightly tipsy gentleman at the bar. He’s contemplating the tip that he should leave. The alcohol he’s consumed has not helped his decision-making process.

His ensemble is as follows, southern met preppy and they had a baby in 1982. He’s wearing Sperry, khaki shorts, and an untucked button up shirt.

So, like a nice southern lady, I lean over and offer my assistance. He then looked at me and asked “what was I doing tonight?” I felt like saying, I survived the date from hell and I was planning on going home. But, instead I decide on, “What are we doing tonight?”

This obviously caught his interest.

He asked me “what type of wine I drink?” I gave him my specifics. He looked at the waitress and said “I’ll take a bottle of red and white to go.” I proceeded to ask if it was legal to take bottle wine out of the bar. She corked them and said yes, we’re good to go.

We proceeded to walk back to his apartment. Because this southern drunk ass fool, walked instead of driving. I guess he was trying to go green. On the trek to his apartment, we stop into another favorite late night bar. They have the best chicken fingers, so naturally I decided I needed some. He agreed to the chicken fingers, but said let’s get it to go. He has his priorities after all, he wanted to get to a bed as swiftly as possible.

We make it to his place, he gives me a tour. Then head to his bedroom…

It’s not what you think.

He’s in the bathroom, I’m in the bedroom. All of a sudden the room starts to spin. He comes back from the bathroom, with his shorts unzipped and his dick in his hand.

Much to his chagrin, it NOT blow job time. The room is still spinning, I need to lay down.

Once this Prince Charming realizes that the candy shop is now closed, he gets inventive.

He goes to the coat closet, and pulls out…  wait for it.

An already blown up air mattress with linens on it!  Yes, that’s right. Bed in a closet, apparently it exist in Prince Charming homes everywhere.

I’m slightly bewildered. He informs me that I’m welcome to stay until I feel better.

He proceeds to go back into the bedroom and turn on the television. Then he graced me with his presence once again. He’s in boxers at this point. He decides to lay down next to me and attempts to cuddle.

This isn’t working for me. He realizes this and goes back to his bedroom.

I wait until he is asleep. I quietly get up from my mattress and go into the kitchen. I’m eating my chicken fingers when a thought POPS into my mind. I need to get out of this place where mattresses in a closet exist.

I open up his refrigerator and pull out both bottles of wine he just purchased. I’ve decided I have earned them. I put them in a plastic bag and RUN!

I call my friends and ask them where they are. Fortunately they are right next door. I come out of the building, clinking. Due to my wine bottles in a plastic bag.

They ask “where have you been for the last three hours?” I respond with “I’ve been getting us wine, you’re welcome.” I hop in the car and hope to NEVER experience Prince Charming ever again.

The moral of the story: a good glass of wine is irreplaceable.
© southerngabunny