Cop a Feel

As always my beloved readers my night downtown was not what I had planned. You know Bunny (yes I referred to myself in the third person). I’ve been a hermit lately. And of course when I ventured out of my house to unexpected frivolity…

I’m downtown to meet my friends that were in town visiting for the weekend. They were forty minutes late… So I hopped my Bunny ass over to our local beer garden. If I was going to wait I might as well have fun myself. A girlfriend of mine happens to work there too. I thought I’d have a drink and chat with her.

I’m walking towards the beer garden. A group of men, let’s call them the three musketeers. They were tourists asking for directions. Of course being the lovely local that I am, I politely helped out our local economy. I gave them directions. Then walked into the beer garden. They followed me in.

Three musketeers invited me to join them for a drink. I say yes, I figure why not. We are seated at one of the long group tables. We get our drinks. I’ve got the undivided attention of three men. It’s going to be a good night!

Let me give you a basic background on the musketeers. They are all in town for six months of US Marshall training.

Bunny found badges and guns….

I start talking to the short musketeer, he’s got a chip on his shoulder. He reminded of someone who needed a lot of attention. So I decided to give him some. Sunglasses musketeer seemed aloof. Starbucks musketeer (he was holding a Starbucks cup, hence my very original name) was holding the elixir of life in his hand. So I decided to sit next to him.

Short musketeer went to get shots. I’m not up for them. Shortie pouts. I turn to talk to Starbucks. He’s looking up car pics. Be still my car loving heart. We start up conversation on our mutual love of cars. Sunglasses asks me to go to the bar to grab a round of drinks with him. I think he felt the tension between Shortie & Starbucks. So he wanted to lessen it.

I’m talking with Sunglasses at the bar. We had three rounds of drinks and orders me food. Y’all know I never say no to food. I look behind us to check on the other two and see Shortie sit down next to two young ladies. Barely legal to drink.

The girls and shortie start playing a game of heads up. Only because he bought them drinks and food…

Tip for my single male readers: Women like food. Buy them food. A drink is nice. But food always wins.

At this point I realize it’s been two hours and I haven’t heard from my friends. I then see a ranting text. Obviously drunken rant. Which I’ll spare all of you the details, but it wasn’t pleasant. So I chose the high road and ignored it.

I put my focus back on Sunglasses. He is now kinda far gone. He’s starting to fall out of his chair. Sunglasses is losing the staring game to me that he wanted to play. He put me in his phone as… wait for it……. Librarian.

Inner Monologue Moment: Lolololololololololol! Me a librarian! Only if he only knew.

Starbucks came over to inform me that his wingman is drunk. And Sunglasses is too. He’s going to leave to get a hotel for them. I use this as my opening to leave.

Starbucks and I head out. I point him in the direction of the nearest hotels. It’s almost midnight on Saturday night downtown. He’ll be lucky if there’s a room anywhere. At the fourth hotel he finally gets a room.

He thanks me for walking with him. He says the least he can do is make me a drink upstairs… A little time away from his drunken friends. And he needed someone to “inspect” the room with him.

Inner Monologue Moment: Okay, so if y’all didn’t get the double entendre of “inspect” the room I love you. But I can’t help you, lol

I wasn’t really feeling Starbucks. But I thought why not. I might warm up to him after the drink. Warming up consisted of the following: a drink, kissing, ridding me of my clothing, four rounds of gymnastics. He certainly warmed me up.

Overall for one night stand it was decent. Nothing to write home about. But the itch got scratched. And I got in a workout without going to the gym.

Fast forward one week…

Starbucks is now going to be known as BMW guy. Because he’s been sending me pictures of what he calls his “wife” AKA his BMW all week long. He wanted to know what my plans were for the weekend. Because he wanted to go to a movie.

I agree to the movie. I take a change of clothes in my trunk. This bunny was a Girl Scout and knows to come prepared.

We took his “wife” to go eat. He shot down all of my suggestions. Then listed his two favorites. Both of which I cannot consume due to my allergies. We decided on a burger and fries chain that is owned by five men.

We’ve ordered. He’s making grabs at my boobs and butt in public. FYI I DON’T DO PDA. Especially not in broad daylight, middle of the day, in a family restaurant. I have standards.

He then says that I’m skiddish and a prude.

Inner Monologue Moment: What the fuck?!? Are you fucking serious?

We are eating. When I see an old acquaintance is waiting on her food. We strike up conversation. No need for intro. Just a quick hi how are you etc. She leaves. I watch him follow her with his eyes. Then he asks, does she like girls? Would she be interested in joining us later?

Inner Monologue Moment: .

I stare at him for a minute. Then he asks, do I get jealous?

Inner Monologue Moment: What a fucking genius I’ve got here. And he carries a gun. I feel sorry for the criminals. They’re just screwed.

I respond directly with a NO. Is this true? No. But I’m pissed and don’t care at the moment.

Warning to all of my single male readers: If your date uses any of the following beware you’ve hit HOT fucking waters. And there may be no escape.

1. Fine – This word is used when she knows or thinks she’s right. And she’s ready for you to shut the fuck up.

2. Nothing – If she uses this word. You’ve got problems. Just STOP.

3. Go ahead – This is a dare. Don’t do it!!!! It won’t end well for you.

4. Whatever – This basically means screw you!

5. That’s ok – She’s letting this go for the moment, but plotting revenge as she speaks.

Bonus: Wow – Beware this word can be deceiving. It’s not a compliment! She’s basically amazed at you’re still speaking. And is waiting for the stupidity to cease.

We have time before the movie. Generally I go get cheap candy to smuggle into my bag. But I don’t want to smuggle candy in for him. He doesn’t deserve smuggled candy.

SMUGGLING IS FOR FRIENDS!

He wants to head over to the theater. It’s an hour and a half early. What the hell are we going to do in the meantime? He parks really far from the entrance. It’s pouring rain. I’m thinking he doesn’t want his “wife” near any vehicle. And it’s also good exercise for me with my umbrella. I’m good. I get ready to exit the “wife”.

He stops me and says let’s hang out a bit.

He starts giving me random specs on his car. I’d like point out he’s not telling anything I don’t already know. But I’m letting him think it. Because I’m just over it. As he’s going on and on. He then starts talking about his back seat and how apparently his windows have built in shades.

Inner Monologue Moment: Now that one is new to me. Back window shades… Who only has back shades? The windows are already really, really tinted. He doesn’t have a dog or kid. That’s strange.

Next thing I know he’s lifted himself up and squeezed himself into the back seat. This guy is 6’3 and built. It was honestly quite a feat to see him squeeze himself back there. And he’s trying to convince me to join him. He says, “Backseat sex is fun and spontaneous.”

Inner Monologue Moment: Are we in high school? Really? I didn’t even do that high school. That’s just uncomfortable.

He’s pressuring me to join him. I’m starting to feel cheap. He then pops it out. I’m assuming this is to convince me to join him in the backseat of the “wife”. Threesome activity never sounded so appealing. Me, the “wife”, and car guy. What Bunny could resist such an enticing offer?

Peer pressure anyone? It’s time to go back to what I learned in school. The good old D.A.R.E. program (google for those of my beloved readers who are too young to know what that is). So, I just said NO.

He’s jerking his member off in the backseat. It’s not appealing. This is so uncomfortable. Then it explodes. Duck for cover! It’s EVERYWHERE!! Ugh. For someone who cares so much about his car. It’s surprising. We’ve got a shooter.

I ask him if he has any napkins. Because this is just not sanitary. He reaches down behind my seat and presents me with a small grey washcloth. Hmmm… Okay. Does he keep cum cloths in his backseat? Is that good for leather? Because I don’t think so.

I send an SOS to my girlfriend. While he’s maneuvering to the front seat. I text her, Code Yellow. Which means call me with a fake emergency ASAP!

She calls and I put her on speaker. She’s panicking. ” I locked myself out of the house. Are you close? Can you bring me my spare? I’m so sorry! Are you busy?”

Inner Monologue Moment: Thank goodness! She sold it! I love my friends.

I turn to him and say I’m sorry. But I’ve got to go. It’s raining and she’s locked out. What else can I do? Can you drop me at my car please? We’ll meet up later. I’ll make it up to you.

He drives me to my car. He asked if I’m free tomorrow. I tell him I’ll check my calendar and text you. I grab my bag and hop the hell out of the “wife”. Crank up my baby and don’t look back.

Tip: The only way car sex could be classy is honestly JUST DON’T DO IT! But if it’s the only place you’ve got. The following are necessary: cup holders with battery lit candles, jazzy romantic music, wine in a box with a straw, and travel pillow.

© southerngabunny