GIRL 67
HOME CARE NURSE GIRL
I was still in my blonde phase. Hell, I’m still in it. There’s just something about a blonde that makes my crotch quiver.
Home Care Nurse Girl taught me that I still have the clairvoyance. I could tell from a distance, from her phone manner, that she wasn’t a slut. And that she was so uptight that I’d dismiss her within minutes. But she was so dreamily gorgeous that I couldn’t resist when she hinted that despite our feuding on the phone, she’d like to meet me.
I met her at the Alchemist & Barrister, the A&B, in Princeton. It has a sidewalk café section, a pub section and a fancy side. I’m one for the pub section, but it gets crowded and loud. I also noticed that I’d stayed away from the place for the most part, because it had been a hang out of mine back in the old days. But I had a business dinner there, and when that was done, Home Care Nurse Girl showed up. She was good for one thing, impressing my client. She was tall, slender, stylish, and achingly gorgeous in a sort of cold way. While blonde locks usually seem sexual, on her they were a waste.
She was another typical American female. Bitchy. Chip on her shoulder. Conflicted about sex. Convinced that the correct thing to do is fall in love first, and then, when a guy has given her a commitment, then ease out of the thong. Do you females really think this is possible? Or if it is, that it’s desirable? Please. How do you fall in love with a woman you’ve never fucked? Why in God’s name would you commit to a woman who’s never taken care of the cock? For all you know, she won’t even like you in bed.
I believe that many of life’s so-called problems are self-correcting. Men who are stupid enough to buy the female fantasy of abstinence-till-marriage (ATM) get controlling women who are terrible in bed. You male morons deserve these cunts. The non-sex-life you will experience is the "reward" for believing what females try to peddle as sexual philosophy. If you’re pissed off at your woman for not being your idea of a sexual mate, gentlemen, you have yourselves to blame. You picked her. You agreed to marry her (or be exclusive with her). You failed to show her the consequences of her sexual flatness. This is why God invented the Horizontal Audition. Fuck her to evaluate her. And not just her. Evaluate yourself. You see, with Girl A, I’m a porn star. With Girl B, I’m a limp cock. Who knows why, except the penis is tapped into deeper levels of your psychology than you are. This is why my traitorous penis, Tyrannosaurus Rex, picks the girl. He knows how to do it. In more ways than one.
So I’m sitting in a barstool next to Home Care Nurse Girl, who is lovely but is not saying anything and not reacting to my questions, stories, jokes, smiles, or invitations to talk. It was mystifying being with a woman who went on a date and refused to say anything. I went back and counted her words.
“Hi, I’m Home Care Nurse Girl, nice to meet you. Okay, we could sit at the bar. No, I’m not hungry, just a red wine.”
Twenty-three words in total. To my five thousand. Finally, I decided to change the strategy.
With Girl 58, No One Home Girl, the other beauty, I’d entertained myself and the restaurant for two hours while she sat in glassy-eyed silence. I didn’t want yet another night like that.
I decided to turn the conversation over to Rex. In the middle of a story about parachuting out of an Air Force jet at three in the morning, in mid-sentence, Rex decided to stop talking.
The second thing he did was stand us both up and grab the leather Indiana Jones jacket off the barstool and shrug into it. Home Care Nurse Girl looked at us in confusion. He made us look at her with a tough expression. It drew her out.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m doing what you want,” Rex said. “I’m terminating this miserable fucking date.”
I looked at the drinks on the bar.
“You can get the tab, Home Care Nurse Girl. See? I’m a feminist, all for equality. For once, the girl can pay for the date. Lucky you, it was only two rounds.”
Without a backward glance, Rex had us walk out of the bar.
We walked quickly to the truck.
Wow, Rex, I said, that was kind of harsh.
“Fuck”, he said. “Yet another non-slut bitch. At least we didn’t spend any money on her.”
Dammit, I said, that’s no way to treat a woman.
“She wasn't a real woman, she was an imposter,” he said. “A true woman is a person who has grown into the full expression of her sexual femininity, into her feminine sexuality. And the only way to treat an imposter like her is to stiff her with the bill.”
I laughed. Oh, and if she were truly feminine, you’d pay the bill but “stiff her” in a different way.
He smiled. “Exactly.”
What do you know, Rex and I finally agreed on something.
I’d better drive, I said as we reached the truck. You get too many tickets.
He waved me to the driver's seat, and we went home.
Back to search for a new female.
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