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It happened one night at the bondage club, last call for alcohol. All out of cash, I was still desperate for one more beer. I needed a plan. So, I found my friend Bella.

“Loan me $8, Bella!” I ordered.
“No, *****! You have had enough already.” she scolded me.
“You are such a downer.” I stormed off pouting.

Then, I started circling the club. That’s when I saw him. Leather jacket and neon red dreadlocks sporting hottie with a Bob Light in hand. Also, he was wearing man makeup. I’m a sucker for a dick in eyeliner.

So, I made my move and seized my last beer opportunity, “Hey, sexy,” I said, “can I have a sip of your beer?”

“Sure!” my man-cake replied as he handed it to me, “I could also buy you a beer.”

“That would be great!” I said, I was in!

bowtie

I watched him head over to the bar. A few minutes later he was back, empty-handed. “I’m sorry, the bartender said they just ended last call but you can have what’s left of my mine.”

Little hearts began floating around the room. I gave him a sparkling smile and then downed his beer.

“I’m Asterisk,” I said batting my false lashes.

“Guardian, pleasure to meet you. I wish I would have met you a few hours ago.”

Guardian? What kind of a name was that? Probably the stupidest name I had ever heard. Good thing he was hot.

“Oh, really?” I asked my new fire-dreaded hunk.

“Yes. I’d like to get to know you. Would you want to grab a bite with me right now?” he asked.

Fuck. Yes.

“I’d love to, but I have my friend…..I mean, yes. Let’s get out of here.” As fast as I could, I turned on my heels and followed my new scream-dream out to the parking lot and then to the restaurant.

I had decided Bella could find her own ride home. Hopefully, this would teach that bitch a lesson. The next time I told her I needed to borrow $8, she had damn well better comply.

After several hours of getting to know the guy, I eventually agreed to go on a second date with him the following weekend. Guardian was currently in a rock band and had moved to Hollywood to pursue the “Rock Star Dream”. He told me that he was 29 years-old. I was 21 and pretty sure Guardian was lying about his age but I didn’t care.

I love rock stars! Even old ones.

Longest. Week. Ever.

Finally the big night had arrived. In my skankiest little get-up and a face looking like it was designed on a Spirograph, I was off.

A half an hour later I arrived at my little love angels apartment complex. After ten minutes of driving around I finally found a parking spot. Once parked, I clunked my hooker heal wearing ass up to the door of his enclosed apartment building and rang the bell. No answer. I rang it 18 more times before a neighbor walked up to the stoop, punched in his code and entered the building. He was kind enough to hold the door open for me. After a little searching I located apartment 6 and knocked. I could hear music blasting out of the door and could smell the distinct stench of weed. So, I knocked louder. Inside I could now hear laughing. Still, the fuck head didn’t answer. I was pissed. Here I had driven all the way out here and he didn’t even have the decency to open the door for me. I gave it a loud kick then turned around to leave when it happened.

Guardians door swung open and he was dragged out by two giant dogs on leashes. Behind him was an angry little Russian boy probably not much older than 18. The boy said something I didn’t understand, spit on the carpeted hallway and descended down a dark stairwell.

“Hey, Beautiful!” Guardian addressed me before reaching in to give me a hug.

I was pissed. However, as anyone who knows me already understands, compliments will get you everywhere. So, I decided I could let go of my little grudge in exchange for more flattery. Guardian didn’t disappoint. Quickly, I had forgotten all about my wait.

After a fast dog walking, Guardian drove us to a restaurant called the Stinking Rose, famous for its collection of garlic dishes. We ate a ton of food and drank just as much wine. Then, finished up with garlic ice cream. Once full and intoxicated, Guardian drove us back to his place.

He held my hand and walked me inside. Then he pulled out his guitar and strummed it for me. That’s all it took. Within five minutes it was my turn to strum his “instrument”. I reached over and pulled off my Rock-scarlet’s pants.

That’s when I saw it:

Tuxedo print, man panties.

Uh, huh, his manhood was tucked inside a bulging thong. They even had a little red bow-tie printed on them. His banana was definitely in an over dressed hammock. I wanted to laugh out loud but figured this might offend my dumb-strummer, so I held back. Guardian penetrated me that night with the force of a rabid dog. The sweat dripping down his forehead unleashed a trail of man makeup down his face and onto mine. I didn’t mind though, probably I deserved this for all the times my makeup may have run off onto an unsuspecting partner while in the heat of the moment.

Or maybe not, I was pretty sure that I had never sweat THAT much during sex.

We both fell asleep directly after. The next morning Guardian walked me to my car and kissed me goodbye. We had already made plans to hang out the following weekend (but that’s another story.) Both of us were headed to work.

It was around seven pm that evening when I received the email. It was a forwarded letter from Guardian. I opened it up and peered inside.

It read:

Hey *****,

I had a great time with you last night but it was not without consequence. Here is a forwarded email from my supervisor. We share an office together. The part that is most astounding to me, how ‘politically correct’ he is being. That definitely has not been the normal feel in our office before today. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The forward:

Dear Guardian,

I know you have been going through hard times lately. However, I feel as your supervisor, it is my duty to be the one to acknowledge this. Your co-workers have complained to me (today) about your intense body odor. I, myself, find it difficult being around you today. As I am sure you have noticed, I have been working in the other office as to avoid you. Yet, still your stench has followed me. I must re-address rule #7 in our employee handbook about the importance of daily bathing. Also, I am more than happy to purchase a underarm antiperspirant for you if you are finding yourself unable to afford such a luxury.

Thanks for your understanding,
Your Boss

Guardians reply:

Dear Boss,

I can assure you that I commonly practice the appropriate methods for personal hygiene by company standards as well as use underarm deodorant on an ongoing, daily basis. However, last night I think I may have consumed a bit too much garlic. The smell should retreat by tomorrow. Although, I can not think of an immediate cure to my temporary odor problem, I can definitively recommend a fine dining establishment for you and your significant other should you want to follow my path of office desecration. I apologize deeply for this situation despite the fact that I can not stop laughing right now.

Deepest regrets,
Guardian

I myself was roaring in laughter. That is until I realized I had been in the salon cutting hair all day and no one said a word to me.

OOPS! 😮

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8 thoughts on “Politically Correct Bulging Bow-tie

  1. Pingback: A Compilation of Bad Dates! | It's not my fault.

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