Trust Your Gut Or You Will Pay The Price

At the time, I was a butcher. She was a deli barista (you're welcome). We never said a word to each other the whole time we both worked at the supermarket. The only thing I did was smile and day dream of my face being planted right between her legs while she watched Ya-Ya Sisterhood, ate Bon Bons and moaned like a mermaid if she were to fuck a tiger shark. It was nothing more than a vision of what I wanted but had doubt for reasons unknown.

Then it happened...

Deli Barista: "Hey J, soooooo...wanna go out tonight for a drink?"

Me: *stares deep into her tits*

Deli Barista: "You know I can see you staring at my tits, right?"

Me: "I wasn't staring...I was thinking. Ok, I was staring. Love the black bra on you, by the way. Yeah, let's go grab a drink."

Fast forward to later that night...

We're at the bar having a good time. As bad as I wanted to get this chick "fuck me" drunk, I didn't. Why? Because something wasn't feeling right. Something told me to have a good time and just "see what happens". About an hour later, she starts up the shots. Body shots. How could I say no to this, right? There was her body, there was my tequila...being sucked off her body. Three shots in, she says, "Let's go back to your place..."

IT WAS ON!!!!

Thinking that this was going to be like any other sexcapade, it wasn't. Shit, not even close. What started off as hot and heavy kissing like the beginning of a soft core porn on Cinemax ended up being a really long and drawn out make-out and dry boning session like two high school kids at someones grandparents house. True story.

Was this chick a virgin? Does she not fuck on the first date? Is this even a fucking date? Don't dates include dinner and conversations about blow jobs? Fuck...does this bitch like me? We haven't said a word in 6 months to one another so how could she like me...I mean, I do have a nice smile so I can see why bitches might like a brother. Is she gonna wanna play Dr. Dry Bone all goddamn night? What the fuck is up?!

Never been more confused in my life people. EVER.

I know women. I know what they like, what they don't. What turns them off. What turns them on. When it's sexy time. When it's period time. When they are crazy. When I should run. But this chick...I COULD NOT FIGURE HER OUT FOR THE LIFE OF ME!!!

Again, it was that feeling I had.

As embarrassed as I am to admit, we dry boned and made out for two hours. I finally went to the bathroom and when I went to take a piss, I noticed that my dick looked like a bratwurst ran over three times, kicked around like a soccer ball during youth league and flourescent red like a fresh STD compliments of a whore house located in the Tenderloin in San Francisco. I was over it. I was bored. I wanted her out. I head back to my bedroom and what do you fucking know...the bitch is asleep. Well played, twat. Well played. I get in bed and crash out for the night.

The next day...

Throughout the night I was having dreams that someone was doing weird shit to me that I couldn't make out but knew was fucked up. It almost felt like it was really fucking happening. Around 6:30am I woke up and my dreams, became REALITY.

When I opened my eyes, there was that bitch staring at me. Not with this look of, "Good morning honey. You're so amazing." Fuck no. I'm talking a look that said, "I've been watching you sleep ALLLLL night as I was plotting our next date and thinking of ways to kill you, without you even feeling it. Who wants breakfast?"

I didn't know what to say so I looked around. My laundry basket was open. She had a pair of my dirty ass boxers in her hand.

Deli Barista: "So who is she?"

Me: "Who's who?"

Deli Barista: "Don't act dumb. I knew you were a player. Who is the bitch you slept with this week?"

Me: "Have you lost your mind, bitch?"

Deli Barista: "Don't change the subject, J. Who is she and when did you fuck her? How would you explain these cum stains on your boxers and the smell of her vagina?" *as she takes a big whiff right in front of me* I think she might have been turned on...I know I was. Wait, what?

Me: "Ok, bitch. Check this out. If I'm on Punk'd, I suggest you tell me NOW because if you're not, your ass needs to go."

Deli Barista: "Well I suggest you answer my question. I can't believe I was going to let you fuck me too."

Me: "Fuck you? My dick looks like a horror movie right now. The closest thing we were to fucking was my tongue going in your mouth. Get the hell out, crazy spice."

Deli Barista: "So now I'm crazy? I AM NOT CRAZY. You are just an asshole who fucks bitches and gets away with it."

Me: "I'm so confused crazy chick from Fatal Attraction. Did you forget to take your medication today? Who are you?"

At that very moment, I started to look around the room even more. My box of condoms that I don't even use (because I am Pro Raw Dog) was opened and every single package was cut up. I'm talking unwrapped to the longest dick length then trimmed from every fucking angle. Lying on the floor like a goddamn art project. All 12 of them. By guess who? Yup, crazy bitch.

My bottle of KY (for masturbation AND her pleasure purposes) squeezed the fuck out all over my carpet. That shit was brand new too.

People, this bitch went "50 shades of what the fuck" on me and I should have seen the signs from the beginning. What those signs were, I have no fucking idea. Something just didn't seem to feel right. While all this was going on as she kept refusing to leave, over and over again, she kept smelling my boxers and saying, "I know this is the scent of vagina! Who did you fuck asshole?!?!?!"

FLASHBACK...

I was at a party right before I started my butcher job. I was wasted. Met two chicks. Both sisters. They were down to ride the Pound Town Express trifecta style. However, one sister looked at me all night, not like she wanted to fuck me, rather, take my kidneys out and leave me for dead behind a Taco Bell. I told the other sister I just wanted to bang her into O-blivion (see what I did there?) because her sister looked like she was going to eat my dick rather than suck it. And I quote, "Yeah, she can be a little jealous at times when she's with me. She does weird shit that I don't even want to get into." I take the good sister back to my pad and was banging her ever since.

Then it hit me...

THE CRAZY SISTER WAS DELI BARISTA.

When I finally realized that, she knew. She also knew I was STILL banging her sister. How? Because like a drug dog, she apparently was smelling sister panties for quite some time and noticed that same scent on my boxers. Gotta be honest, not two vaginas smell alike and this broad came Dog The Bounty Hunter, correct. No fucking joking. This bitch went on a manhunt to get answers...but answers she did not get. I kept my mouth shut but had the look of so much guilt that I farted and told her she needed to leave before I shit myself on the rug.

She got her shit, took my boxers as a trophy and headed for the door. But before finally leaving, she told me this:

"I just want to know why you didn't want to have a threesome that night and just bang my sister instead?"

My response: "Tell me something...why did your last relationship end?"

Deli Barista: "Because I wanted my boyfriend all to myself. I was jealous and according to him, 'unstable.'"

Me: "You watched me sleep, sniffed through my crusty ass boxers, cut up all my condoms and poured out all my KY. You are one Lifetime marathon away from killing a motherfucker. Does that answer your question?"

She quit her job and I never saw her crazy ass again.

The moral of the story: If your gut is telling you something isn't right, it's probably because something isn't right or you gotta take a shit. Listen to your gut - it's one of the only things you can trust.