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Blogs by Iva Lawson
He Took IT OUT! 2/1/2006 2:47:45 AM
Riddle me this: What’s the difference between a BMW and a porcupine?
ANSWER: With the porcupine, the pricks are on the outside.
Riddle me this: What’s the difference between a BMW and a porcupine?
ANSWER: With the porcupine, the pricks are on the outside.
Before I spin this little episode, let me just say that I brought it on myself. I’m too trusting. I’m too trusting in my own abilities to take care of and defend myself and I’m too trusting of personalities that I am curious about or get a good feeling from. I’m usually pretty on point when it comes to intuition about people, and many times I still choose to ignore my gut. In this case, I had a warning twinge, but ignored it because of the aforementioned curiosity and trust issues. Here’s how it went down.
I met this guy online. (I really should get out more).He views my picture and profile and sends me a note that says: “I’d like to hit that on a regular basis.” OK, I know. I should have seen this one coming. But, there was this trust thing saying, “Give the fellow the benefit of the doubt. After all, he’s only a man” So, for a laugh, I sent him this response:
“Dang. I'm intrigued by the "regular basis" because I'm sick of the trolls who would be kings I've encountered recently, but I don't know whether to be offended or turned on by the "hit that" LOL So, thanks (I think) for the compliment.
Of course, this particular type of masculine entity (more on that later) got a nibble on his line and rather that wait for me to fully swallow the bait before he attempted to set the hook, he was off and reeling. You anglers know what I mean; the rest of you, just bear with me.
This is the remaining email string.
HIM: would love to see you.........
(Please note the inability to respond in kind with wit and humor. There’s more of this, and you can trust me on that.)
ME: Oh? Tell me why?
HIM: I'M A MAN OF MUCH FORTITUDE.....RATHER SHOW THAN TELL..........
(Note also the caps. He did this, no doubt, as a flexing tactic to show off his masculine power. This is a pattern I’ve seen before. I’ll be willing to bet he’s going to wave his dick at me if he gets half a chance.)
ME: OK, show me.
(At this point, he believes his ruse is working and that he can proceed with his usual methods.)
HIM: i'm ready...when
(Now, he’s back to the lower case and minimal (zero) punctuation. Hmmm. Must mean he’s showing me his sensitive side.)
ME: What do you have in mind? And be specific. I know not with whom I'm dealing.
(Please notice my use of language here to convey what I’m thinking.)
HIM: where are you..............
(What’s up with the damn dots, anyway? How specific was that? Is it best to answer a question with a question?)
ME: Landover Hills/Hyattsville
HIM: address and telephone #
(Surely he must have bumped his head on this one. His online profile shows no photograph and his screen name is “joystick”. His opening line was straight out of Player 101: A Guide for Nailing Silly Bitches, and he’s indicated he has little use for the English language as a communication tool. He most likely thinks of himself as being a man of few words and probably also thinks this is an attribute. I know, this must be an extension of his MUCH FORTITUDE comment. At this point, I’m thinking he’s one of those men whose identity is directly related to his material possessions and the size of his pecker.)
ME: How about we chat or email outside of this venue. Not ready to give my digits to a man who's so eager. I like eager, don't get me wrong. It's refreshing, but no need to act like a virgin on prom night. Feel me?
HIM: That's your choice...if you want to take the long way around the barn.......it's easier face to face...hit me up after 7....202/491-XXXX....
(Here is where I begin to fully comprehend that he fancies himself as a Jedi Knight. This is blatant use of the mind trick without completing the training. Funny, I guess I decided here that I’d call his bluff and see if he was the total idiot he seemed to be. What was I thinking?)
ME: LOL. Yeah, slow and steady wins the race. Besides, I'm a country girl. Some of my fondest memories took place in the barn.
HIM: sounds kinda of freaky....i like that
It’s true, I should have never even responded to his initial note. It was disrespectful, but I’m a Leo: curious to the very end. I called him after 7:00.
We had a brief conversation and another call came in or he was pumping gas or whatever, and had to go but said he’d call back later. He did. We talked for about 30 minutes. I’m beginning to think he may actually have some intellect because the conversation went well. He’s an accountant, right? During our conversation I managed to get him to reveal that he was consulting or working contract. He also chose to reveal his hourly rate. This salary waving tactic is always a turn-off for me, and I’m thinking if he’s focusing on hourly, he’s probably one of those shiny men. You know the type: A small thinker, lots of flash and shiny things, but no real substance. Any man who announces his salary, especially the hourly rate, has got some real challenges with who he is and where he’s headed.
At the end of the conversation, he said he’d call me the next day. He did. He mentioned that he was about five minutes away and said he’d like to drop by and see me. He said he wanted to give me a congratulatory kiss for landing a part-time job to supplement my income until things get better. I’m no fool, but still, curiosity is nagging and despite my better judgment as well as some soft-shoeing on my part to talk myself out of it, I agreed. It was understood that if I looked out the window and didn’t like what I saw, that I’d smile and wave through the blinds and he should turn around and leave.
Yes, I knew the “in the neighborhood” spiel was probably a planned event. Still, I allowed him to come by. He arrives and is driving one of the little Mercedes Benz convertibles. I drive a big ol’ Detroit. The Benz is cute, but a bit tiny for my needs. He’s well dressed wearing what could have been a cashmere coat. His shoes were shined and looked well-made and perhaps pricey and his clothes fit his slim body well; a little too slim for my taste. I’m only impressed that he’s neat and well dressed. He comes into my door lips first and grabby-paws second. I give him an obligatory smooch (since this was his professed reason for stopping by), but when he reaches in and begins the Slurp-O-Matic Kissenator routine, I grasp him by his shoulders and push him away at arms length. I said, “Let me look at you,” realizing that he’s the type that will love this kind of remark. Then, I saw it; the patented lip-lick maneuver. Oh, this is right out of the Player handbook. Yes, women find it very sexy, but it doesn’t make our panties fly off. At least not my panties.
He continues to try to fondle and smooch me wetly and I am trying to be accommodating, but growing very weary of his advances. He is reminding me of my least favorite type of man. The kind that women have convinced is God’s gift. He has light skin and curly hair and women have swooned with their bloomers flying in all directions. Sorry, I grew up around men who looked like that. Oodles of men with curly hair, light skin and most of them had good sense. Their mama’s taught them that women who cared about such things were less than desirable.
Now, he’s pretending to have an erection. Perhaps he did have a slight one and although he was attempting to maneuver my hands to his crotch, that didn’t happen. Well, since I didn’t go there, he did. Yes, Seinfeld, he took it out.
OK, buddy. Party’s over. I refused to even glance at it and set about looking for the house keys so I could undo my deadbolt. I found them, right under his coat. All the while, he’s following me around the room with his dick in his hand. Wait. This man is 46 years old, says he’s an accountant, drives a Mercedes and is well dressed. Isn’t that supposed to be what women want? He showed me his Johnson and I showed him the door.
I undid the lock, opened the door, handed him his coat and smiled sweetly. I never expected to hear from this joker again. Although, he did say he’d call. He could have been impressive, but I discovered all he was working with was a dick and a Benz. My question is, “What else you got, asshole?”
