by hunnish » Wed Jun 18, 2014 4:52 pm
I was thinking about Watership Down during the weirdest/second-worst sexual encounter I've had.
In Watership Down, the rabbits discuss how their bodies were built for short bursts of speed, not long journeys, so this great migration will be impossible! Now imagine a guy who fucks like a rabbit. Not because he's a prolific breeder, but because his whole style is short, rapid movements.
Last night I got drunk and out of boredom, curiosity, and foolishness I messaged a guy who I hooked up with on a playground at like 1am last August. We had a weird dynamic for like 2 weeks and haven't talked since. After chatting for a while this morning, he invited me over and we hook up.
The first time he's done in two minutes and I get nothing. In the intermediate before we try again, he brings out a fucking book of poetry and tells me that he likes this and that and doesn't like these. Reads "We Are Seven" by Wordsworth while I try not to laugh at how absurd this is.
We try again after he shows me his favorite sonnets and he basically humps my chest for 10 minutes. No clue how this is doing anything for him, and it certainly isn't enjoyable for me, but he just does his rabbit thrusts and I lay there bored as shit. Eventually I give up and put my clothes back on, but he starts asking me questions. He wants me to rate his looks on a scale of 1-10.
"I don't really want to rate you. Why would you even want to hear that?"
"I just need an objective opinion on my looks. From someone I talk to, like, regularly."
"Barring the fact we haven't talked in almost a year, my opinion can't be objective."
He coaxed it out of me and I gave him a 7.5 without personality accounted for. 6.5 with.
"Ok now what if I go to the gym and get muscular like this guy?" Then he shows me a picture on his phone of an athlete like he has this shit prepared at all times.
"Why are you so concerned with my opinion of you?"
"Not your opinion, but what people think in general. I just got broken up with." AND THERE WE HAVE IT. Low self-esteem city.
Doorbell rings. His friend is here to carpool to work. I follow him down to the door.
"Haydn, this is Rachel. Rachel--Haydn."
I shake her hand and give an awkward smile, realizing that she would 100% not have accepted that handshake had she had time to process why I was leaving his house. I'm already half way out the door when he says "Bye, Haydn".
Another day, another nickel.
I'm gonna go wash my hands again.