I moved to the big city when I was 30. Soon thereafter, I met and dated my first "big city guy". We'll call him Herman*. Herman looked EXTREMELY good on paper! He was one of the best good on paper men I've seen yet to this day! He was tall, dark, handsome, and muscular. He had perfectly straight white teeth behind beautiful, luscious, suckable lips. He was an engineer who drove a Mercedes and lived in a sweet house....ALONE....no kids, no wife, no baby momma...not even a dog! He was intelligent and witty....with a good sense of style. I'm not too sure though just how he treated his momma, as I never had the occasion to meet her.
So Herman and I went on a couple of innocent dates....you know...movies, dinner, etc. They were nice. He was quiet, but I thought if I gave him enough time, he would eventually come out of his shell, and I could learn more about him. We were talking on the phone one evening after about two of those innocent dates. He suddenly asked me if I was even interested in sex....said I seemed "rigid." WTF?? RIGID?? How could one assume such a thing after seeing someone TWICE for dinner and a movie? I simply asked that very question....he proceeded to tell me that he had usually gotten the panties to drop after only two dates! Herman shared with me that he had no problem getting the goodies from women...that he had never had to work at it like he had with me! Two dates is work?!?! Interesting...
But silly me....I opted to go out on a couple more dates with him. On the fourth date, we went to my friend's dinner party. There was a lot of food, wine, laughter, and fun! Needless to say, ole Herman was looking particularly tasty after two bottles of Shiraz! We finally found our way back to my apartment after a long drunken tour....yeah, I was too drunk to give good directions...we took a wrong turn. Luckily, I was too drunk to let my naughty, nasty, little freaky girl inside out too! Yep, I passed out and woke up next to Mr. Looks Good On Paper the next morning, wondering what the hell had happened. Even though, there was no bumping dirties, there was a little "get to know you better" pillow talk that morning. We were talking about family, school, jobs, and childhoods. Herman began to reminisce on old times with his brother, growing up. He giggled like a little girl when he told a tale of killing kitties. Yep...killing kitties...."My brother and I used to torture neighborhood cats until we eventually killed them." Did I mention that I own 2 cats?
Uh yeah...that was my last conversation with Psycho #1.
*Some names have been changed in order to protect the crazy.