james made his way up to gainesville to help with the move. it all went well. aside from the worrying about my new landlord finding out about my bounced check last month to my old landlord, I should be all in. new apartment, new life, new surroundings, same venue, same general area; a weird mixture indeed. james decided I needed to get out of gainesville for a few days and kidnapped me to miami. that was 2 days ago but let’s cover the night before my kidnapping.
keisha decided that she would contact me Friday. at first I thought it might be because of this bloggy blog but such was not the case. i held out, she caved. cause and effect really explains everything. I was on my way to the supermarket and who should happen to invite themselves but the keish-meister. i welcomed the company because james told me long ago that the best second date is always located at the supermarket. especially a post-one-night-stand second date. “there’s something about the produce” james always says. he believes it’s an organic arena for one to show off his or her wit in a new form with every passing aisle. this includes the counter-wit you will encounter from your suitor(ee).
keisha had me matched as far as wit was concerned. she kinda effortlessly gives me a run for my money in this department which i must say makes me want to punch her in the butt. next thing you know she’s gonna pick up my guitar and be vastly superior in the musical arena. this feels like a power struggle but I have the trump card: i don’t give a shit.
low and behold, her musical (guitar specific) skills were nonexistent. there’s this song i learned how to play from bayside entitle landing feet first. it’s a very pretty song. i’ll have to copy some of the lyrics down for you all to enjoy. none the less, this song is pretty easy to play and it talks about meeting someone new and feeling comfortable with them blah, blah, blah. independent research led to a breakthrough in the science of eduard getting laid. 1 part wine, 1 part ordered food, 1 part comedy movie, 1 part playing landing feet first (the wine and food must be in controlled quantities so as to not put your audience to sleep). when all of these components come together, there has been a 98% success rate. there was this stupid chick fariel that couldn’t take it easy on the wine and i wound up only getting a hand job. fucking wine.
for all of her “superiority,” or so i continue to allow her to believe, keisha fell victim to the formula. there was something different about this time though. it was slower, more passionate, and we wound up doing it 3 times. my balls ached. obviously it was good but it was different. just different, i dunno.
it was late and she decided to stay which i agreed to only because i truly could not see straight. between the wine, the endless sex leading to the aching balls, and the goddamn air conditioner with its fucking noisiness, my vision and judgement were beyond impaired. so no objections from me. we slept and again I awoke to breakfast. same move as before with the exception of the ass grab and not knowing how old she was. she left so of course I called james to brag.
james lives in miami, downtown miami to be specific, and is the proud owner of a thriving social life. he’s still humble and grounded though. not the typical miamian. so to say that i was ok with heading down to miami with him for a couple of days would be a gross understatement.
