It was a weekend night like any other, except it’s the day before Halloween and I had a Marathon to run the next day…
I met Ex-Cheerleader online and like most girls that you meet in this fashion, there was some sort of deception. Hers was a classic case of fatty-in-denial syndrome and she was a lot beefier in person than she claimed online with her “athletic” body type. This amazes me. Do these girls just assume you won’t notice and that they’ll forget about their weight after charming you with their personality? Unbelievable.
Ok, so she had a really hot face and a great set of tits… I was already out and had nothing better to do so I figured I would see this one through. We meet up at bar where Ex-cheerleader and her friends are already hammered. I see fatty and I did another walk around… thinking wow, pictures really do subtract 25 pounds. I’m wearing a 70s inspired ensemble that I put together with some help from eBay and these chicks are (oddly enough) really digging my chest hair. I put a few beers back and not even 30 minutes in ex-cheerleader already has her pudgy hands all over me.
It’s still only about 8:30 and we bounce to the next place (they are doing a Halloween bar crawl in Dupont). Hand-holding ensues… great, clingy too. Luckily for me, I blend in with the group and none of the bouncers notice my lack of a wrist band. This next place blows (think grungy hipster bar), we move on to another (but not before many jokes about the strip club next door).
The new bar has two floors and I am left to entertain her friends while ex-cheerleader goes to the bathroom. This place is fucking slammed, there’s no room to hold your drink much less move through the crowd. We chat about our professions and the fact that I’m crazy to be running a 26.2 mile race in the morning. I agree and they swoon. About half an hour passed and ex-cheerleader is no where to be found. I begin to wonder if she bailed on all of us, but I end up bumping into her on the way to the other side of the bar. I ask her if she wants to check out the bar upstairs and we head up to the less crowded area… her leading me by the hand.
We get upstairs and I order some drinks, and as I turn around she’s got me in a serious lip-lock. This action continues for some time until she gets a text from her friends telling her they are about to head to the next bar. As we’re walking up the street her very hot and skinny Brazilian friend jokes about how we’ve all paired off into couples I ignore most of this, as ex-cheerleader has her hand down my pants and is struggling to pull my cock out right here in public. At the very last second, I stop her hand and whisper, “easy tiger.” She giggles and lets out a huge grin… a block later we’re at the entrance to the last place.
This group had some serious balls. Not only did they cut directly to the front of the line, they started joking about it right in front of the people behind us. My luck had apparently run out, because without a wrist band I wasn’t getting into this place without paying the $20 cover. I look at my watch… 10:43. Fuck it, it’ll be close to midnight by the time I get home.
Ex-cheerleader seems to notice and tells me I should go home and get some sleep. If it hadn’t been for the race, this would have been way too easy. We agree to call/text later and I head home.
A couple of days later I text her and make plans to meet for drinks. Around noon the day of our date, I text her:
Me: So are we still on for tonight at 7:00?
Her: I’m sorry but I think we might have to reschedule, I’m meeting a friend at 8:00.
Me: Meet me at 7:00, we can always meet up with your friend later.
Her: Ok, well you sure you don’t mind? She’s meeting an ex of hers for drinks and I promised her I’d go support her.
Me: (What the fuck is this shit?) I guess that could make for some interesting drama…
Her: Ok cool, see you at 7:00.
Me: Later.
Fast forward to 2 hours before our date, she calls me:
Her: Hey I’m really sorry but it looks like this is turning into dinner.
Me: Sure whatever, call me when you learn how to make plans. You owe me.
Her: What?! Are you mad?
Me: *click*
She drunk texts me again the next week late at night and I ignore it. If she hadn’t been a fatty I might have considered it, but this girl just screamed flake. I ended up banging her skinny Brazilian friend soon after.
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