So yeah. I had a date tonight and it didn’t go very well. The sad thing is that the previous dates had gone well and we’ve had some great, in-depth conversations. I had fun at dinner and talking with him, but his driving really put me on edge. He’s in a wheelchair and has to use hand controls to drive but, fuck me, that doesn’t mean you can’t fucking pay attention to where a goddamn stop sign is. I was so irritated and frightened and frustrated by the time we got back to my apartment, making out was the last thing on my mind. Even though I had told him that my clothes were going to stay on, I don’t think he believed me.
Yes, the irony. I will fuck a guy just because I want to, but that’s because it’s just sex. When it’s a guy I’m dating, when emotions are involved, I take longer because I know firsthand how having sex too soon in a relationship can ruin things.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about this one. Have a come-to-Jesus talk I guess. Yuck.
Hilarious in tone. Sad in context.