Monday, March 17, 2008

Trapped In The Bedroom

I didn't really know what title to give this post. I am a man in conflict. Not exactly conflict. I'm fu**ed. A movie line come's to mind. Can't quite remember who said, but I'm seeing some Mafia movie in my head..."...when you think you're fu**ing them, they're fu**ing you!"

About one month ago - forgive me if I don't quite know when, things moved very fast for me - I met the Girl Next Office. It was about the time 0.5 was indisposed. Or just before. Anyways, we met on a Thursday, she came over digs that same day (we weren't alone), nothing happened, we met again the next day and she slept over. Then she slept over again the next night, and pretty soon she was over almost everyday.

Now, pardon a punk like me to think that I laid my game down flat, cause that's what I thought. There I was thinking, I tricked, showed some bread, was amazing company and the lady had no choice.

I've come to see things differently. Ladies her age - she's over 25 - are slicker than my regular 20 yr olds. Oh she's smooth. When I thought I was fu**....you know the rest. As we speak she has a pair of shoes in my house, obviously there is a toothbrush. But wait for this...you'll love this one...she has an extra set of my keys. Pretty smoothly done. All she had to do was throw me some tail. Regular basis isn't even close. It was like an avalanche of tail. Before I catch my breath she'd be back in my house looking all innocent and willing.

I've been had. I'm not saying that it isn't any good. I'm just saying it's not worth her having my keys and already acting like we're married. What movie was that I saw where some guy was told to be wary of women with 'crazy eyes'. How I Met Your Mother? I think. I get the feeling I've been looking at crazy eyes. A couple of weeks back (once again, I'm not sure about the time), she started asking me who it was everytime I got a message or someone called. She killed my game (although I made up for it somewhat this weekend). My fruits couldn't get through. I mean this lady was always on the scene with her friend (don't ask, I just don't know how that happened - (Mr. Sam called them Salt and Pepper - I can't place them with the other fruits cause this group is in its own class - Salt and Pepper works for me. Though I can't quite tell which one to call the key-holder).

I don't know what to do. How do I get my keys back? How do we go back to not knowing each other? She says she'd understand if things didn't work out then she says she can't bear to not be without...I can't finish that sentence, it's so stupid! She wants to take things slowly but I can't go a day without getting about 5 useless messages.

Now I'm trapped. She's too close to the office to ignore. She has my keys and I still want to shag. Plus we're supposed to take a trip (don't ask!). We'll see, after the trip. After the trip, after the trip, after the...

3 Comments:

Blogger 0.5 said...

Salt and Pepper.

Samborera is good. Very good. I got to name one "Bench" (don't ask)...comes off kinda mean but if I offered the explanation you would see how the nick name arises..but could not figure out the other one.

I think its best they just remain salt and pepper as they are inseparable.

Indisposed? You make it sound like I inadvertently dropped my d**k somewhere and had to trek long ways back to get it!

Monday, March 17, 2008 4:36:00 PM  
Blogger Samborera said...

0.5 is definitely back. Long treks or not.

Monday, March 17, 2008 6:32:00 PM  
Blogger 0.5 said...

Indeed indeed Mr Sam,....

Seeing now that our poster boy has shot himself in the foot,...man why don't you listen? I have had to move house once hehe - No laughing matter actually - all we can do is offer some advice. I have some pointers:

1. Simulate a major row - oh wait scratch that - didn't work.

2. Down 99-degrees pure alcohol and tell Salt - or Pepper - as the case may apply to hit the high road.

3. Cancel that trip. Now. Really. REALLY. And lose your voice if questions come up.

4. Perhaps I was too hasty when I said cancel the trip. Just take someone else. Someone who still has their tail unthrown - or locked, if I may borrow your phrases.

5. Clash two chics in your house - like the masseuse. We shall call it "The Kamikaze particle accelerator/collider digs",..like CERN, only for people. It will be unprecedented, this colliding people business ...One is bound to vector out to space

6. Suggest a 3-some. Two women, one chap. Any refusal would be the beginning of a fabolous row ..[OH AND FACTOR OUT PEPPER ..or Salt, as the case may be!]

7. Say someone is paged. Your fault. Apply soap lather to your eyes and deliver a speech about responsibility peppered with a few tears here and there. Catch it on camera for the boys' laugh.

Out of ideas for now,..long day. Ah this is fun watching Kamikaze squirm .....

Monday, March 17, 2008 7:08:00 PM  

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