Open Air

If you ever thought you had a bad night. I’m here to support you and tell you my beloved readers it can be worse!

I’m about to tell you how it can get much worse. The evening started out so hopeful, so happy. I found the perfect parking spot downtown. If you live in a city you know how often that happens! I’m meeting a gentleman, I use that word loosely, you’ll understand why shortly. We met on okcupid.com. He was a personal chef. He was tall, well-educated, and had his head on straight. What more could a girl ask for? Food and common sense.

I hit the JACKPOT!

He wanted to treat me to a swanky and delicious restaurant that I had yet to frequent. He bragged about how he knew the head chef. So we were going to have a great dining experience. I’m dressed to kill skinny leather pants, cleavage was out and about, stiletto heels. I don’t mean to brag… But let’s go ahead and say it out loud. I looked HOT.

I show up five minutes early we are supposed meet out front. Ten minutes go by, no one has arrived. I step inside the restaurant, ten more minutes pass. I get that feeling people are watching me. I would have texted but he didn’t give me his number. Red flag on my part. He claimed he lost his personal phone. He only has his work phone.

Its been thirty minutes. I’m fucking pissed. I think to myself FUCK this. I leave, and walk back to my awesome parking spot.

Like any pissed off woman, I begin to text my girlfriends and one guy friend. The girls say to fuck him, and treat myself to ice cream. My male friend says he’s just made dinner and I’m welcome to come over. I go with Plan B, food wins! I leave my amazing parking spot.

I let myself in the side door, like always. I make myself at home, get a plate, wine, sit on the sofa. A woman then walks into the living room. We are both taken back. My guy friend walks in and proceeds to tell me he forgot to tell me so and so is coming over.

I’ve just crashed a date. OH SHIT.

She greets me, with the following statement: “Hi, I’m “guy friend’s” girlfriend.” Okay, to all the men who are reading this blog, I need to explain the significance of the statement she made. Whenever a female automatically says to another female I’m his girlfriend. As in that is the first statement out of her mouth. She is for lack of a better term, marking her territory. She’s saying girl take a step back from my man, in the most polite way possible.

My male friend doesn’t realize the significance of what has just happened. He’s blissfully unaware. She proceeds to sit between us. I try to chit-chat with her and put her at ease, make her realize I’m NOT trying to poach her man. I eat as fast as I can. Because I realize that I need to leave as swiftly as possible.

I begin texting another girlfriend. I don’t want to go home yet. I need to leave this situation behind.

I tell her it was great to meet her but I have other plans. He tells me I can stay. I tell him thanks but I need to go and I roll out.

I head to the middle of nowhere to meet my girlfriend at a biker bar. Its going to be my pick me up! Because I’m going to see that sexy bad boy on a bike. The one your mother warned you about. Like the HOT guys on Sons of Anarchy hot.

I’ll happily give you a description of this delicious specimen. He’s 6’4, wash board abs, covered in ink, beard, crystal blue eyes, and long hair in a pony tail with great natural highlights (I’m so jealous!).

He doesn’t know I’m coming. My girlfriend and I walk in. He immediately perks up when he sees me. He even called me by my nickname. He also began to caress my leg and also, fixes my drink. I didn’t even have to ask. It’s a rowdy crowd, a lot of rough looking characters. But they’re really teddy bears on the inside.

I’m hanging with my girl. But he’s constantly checking on me. Whenever a man takes an interest in me, he magically appears. He’s giving off that, how should I say this… FUCK OFF, this is MINE look.

We stay until close and I follow him back to his place.

We pull up its pitch black on a dirt road. He’s still new to town. He’s been staying in the mother-in-law suite of his business partners place. Now, when you think mother-in-law suite what comes to mind?  I’m sure pleasant thoughts do.

That’s not what I’m seeing.

I’m in front of a shack. It reminds me of a creaky, spooky wannabe cabin in the middle of the woods.

But there’s a bonus!

What is on the porch? Ashtray that looks like a Bloomin onion, dog kennels, dogs, a refrigerator… I have no idea why it was there. Maybe his dogs grab a beer every once and while. Your guess is as good as mine.

He lets the dogs out. He walks around with the dogs he takes that stance. You know the stance I’m talking about. He’s a man, outdoors, with his dogs. Need I say more?

He invites me in, I’m hesitant but I go with it. I enter the male den. Well, it’s not actually a den its his bedroom. Yes, that’s right it’s literally a one bedroom, half bath shack.

I can hear the banjos playing. I think to myself, wash board abs, wash board abs. It calms me. The things a girl has to do for wash board abs.

He starts cleaning the shack. He tells me to pull the curtain over the sliding glass doors. I oblige. As I begin to pull the “curtain” I realize its unique. I’ve never used a shower curtain as a door cover before. I suppose it does the job just fine. I mean he doesn’t have a shower. So I guess he wanted that shower fresh feeling somewhere in the shack and he found the perfect spot. Shower curtain equals sliding glass door cover, who knew?

I’m not sure if I’m staying at this point. He asks me to share some of my blog with him. He likes my stories. I crawl on the bed, we read thru a few of my blogs. He’s tired and offers for me to stay. He gives me a pair of shorts, I keep my shirt on and ask if I can use the bathroom.

He gives me a serious look and says the plumbing isn’t working. I pause and reply with, “what do you mean the plumbing isn’t working?” I don’t understand. He informs me the toilet isn’t working. I tell him no problem, I can fix it. He says NO, it’s not a possibility.

Now, we have a serious dilemma. I need to go. The bathroom is out-of-order. I’m too far from civilization to just hop in the car and find a restroom. What is a girl to do?

He informs me, with a serious look on his face that I can relieve myself outdoors.

Let’s all take a moment and read that sentence again. Because even I still can’t believe what I heard and I was there.

Moment……………………………………………………………………………………

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Okay, now we’ve taken the moment.

He informs me that he’ll go with me if I’m scared. How chivalrous of him. Do you want to know what would have been even more chivalrous?

That’s right, you guessed it, a TOILET. But not just any toilet, a WORKING toilet. I never thought I’d need to specify that in my lifetime! Or even a bucket. Like one of the BIG orange Home Depot buckets. That would have been better than going outside in the darkness.

I inform him that only ONE person will be witnessing this embarrassment and that is ME.

I grab my phone, turn on the flashlight app and head out into the darkness. I talk to myself, yes this is my life. I’m peeing outside a shack in the middle of nowhere. I pick a spot close to the shack, squat, and become closer to nature than I ever wanted to be.

I need a moment to gather my thoughts. I can’t believe this just happened. I re-enter the shack, without a working bathroom. He’s laying on the bed, relaxed. Like nothing happened. I’m still not quite all there at the moment.

So, when he suggests we cuddle… What’s it with men and cuddling?

He’s like a human heater! I didn’t need a blanket. Maybe it was the wash board abs that I stayed the night in a shack for and peed outside for too. I forgot to mention he’s completely nude while sleeping. So, his manly member is poking into my back thru the night. He manages to get me out of my shirt. But that’s it. I was still trying to recover from the trauma of peeing outdoors.

Anything other than sleep wasn’t going to happen.

Morning arrives, I’m sleep deprived. I also have to PEE… I roll over, he’s playing with himself. He asks me if its okay for him to spin one-off?

I have NO IDEA what he’s talking about. So, I ask. What does that mean? He looks at me dumbfounded. He realizes that I’m serious and tells me he wants to jack off while I’m watching. I tell him sure… But only if he can find me a cup for after.

Because I really have to PEE.

He asks me to lean up against his side, while he’s jacking off. What’s the average time for jacking off? Two, three, maybe five minutes… I have my watch on, it took him twenty minutes! He finally got there. But he neglected to tell me, he’s a shooter. I swear it ricochet off the wall!

He proceeds to tell me a funny story about his aim and another woman…

OH MY FUCKING GOD!! SHOOT ME! 

He rolls off the bed, and hands me an extra-large glass beer mug. I give him the WHAT THE FUCK look. I head into the bathroom. I test the toilet just in case. It was a rude awakening. I peek under the lid, it’s completely rusted through! Its awful. The sink is covered in rust, dust, and dirt. I pull my shorts down, put the extra-large mug down there, while balancing so as not to touch the toilet. I fill up the mug.

NOW what do I do with it? Walk outside in front of him? HELL NO! I pour it down the sink.

It was the most lady like thing I could do.

I get dressed. I meet him outside ready to go. I give him a hug, tell him BYE.

He says we should hang out again. I hop in my car, text my girlfriend. I ask, “can I use your bathroom?”

© southerngabunny