Bogda's Time in Big D

Number of propositions for sex: one. Number of make-outs offered: one. Number of times ass has been grabbed: one. So far, I’m batting a thousand, my little chickadees!

Let's start with the first category: number of propositions for sex. Here's the story: I'm waiting for a cab on Weds. evening, Dec. 21st, cause I need to get from Georgetown to Regan National Airport. A little old man, who I learn is from Iran originally, picks me up. And holy shit, this cabbie is talkative! And he thinks I am just plain gorgeous, and says that I have made his day. Mind you, I'm rockin' some old jeans, sneakers and an orange polar fleece thing, so I'm not exactly workin' my game, but he is entranced nonetheless. The conversation goes from how gorgeous I am to how men these days want women that are too skinny. His words, not mine. Generally speaking, I like a nice quite cab ride, but my policy with cabbies is always the same: this dude can drive me into a bad area, skull-fuck me then leave me for dead, so if he wants to chat a bit, I'm cool with that. Keep the cabbie happy, that's all I'm saying. So, he starts in on how skinny women have no passion, and then he asks me if he can "speak freely." Not knowing what kind of Pandora's box I'm opening, I say "sure." The conversation goes from G, to PG, then straight to XXX in a matter of blocks. He starts telling me what he liked to do in bed, what he likes having done to him in bed, cultural differences between America and Iran, etc. All of this, coming from a short, 60ish year old man who is probably someone's grandpa. Unsettling to say the least, but I am paralyzed. I can't get mad at him; he asked if he could speak freely, and I consented. And another thing, the shit that was coming out of his mouth was unreal dirty, and I could not find it in me to tell him to stop. I mean, the guy kept saying how he liked to "drink pussy juices" and even made the slurping sound for me. Finally, right as we pull into Regan National, the $60,000 question come out, "will you let me make love to you?" "No, thanks though." I says, very nicely, in reply. I have told this guy I have a boyfriend who is 32 and 6'4", and VERY jealous, so I'm hoping this will shut him up. No such luck. He then asks if he can "dream about me." "Okay, why not" I say, cause the guy is going to jerk off to me anyway at this point, I might as well give him permission. I pay the man, take my bags, and go about the business of flying to Dallas. Shaken, but somehow a little wiser in the ways of dirty old men.

Number 2: make-out propositions. I have this pal named Jerry who has had a hard on for me for 13 years now. It's kinda unreal at this point. I used to try to get my ex's goat by reminding him that even though Jerry was one of his best friends, if I called Jerry and said "let's fuck", he'd be at my place faster than the speed of sound, regardless of his loyalties to my ex. Anyway, over the years, Jerry has earnestly tried to lock lips with me on 2 prior occasions. Both times involved the phrase "do you mind if I kiss you?" Even though the answer is always "yes, I do mind", he tries to lay one on me anyway. He gets a bit of cheek, and I get an awkward drive home. It doesn't matter if I have a boyfriend or if he has a girlfriend, he tries anyway. So, this past Friday, I called Jerry because he was going to be in town for a day or 2, and I wanted to hang out with him. We went to lunch, talked about deep stuff: his kind-of girlfriend, my man-luck, his career, Tex-Mex, etc., and we had a good ole time catching up. Meal was over, so I dropped him back at his lady-friend's house (his lady-friend that he is screwing, but not dating), and as he's getting out of the car, he says "give me a call anytime." "okay, will do" says I. Then he throws in "give me a call if you want to make out sometime." And I said "Oh Jerry", and rolled my eyes at him, which is how it always goes. But hey, at least I got an offer for some ass, that counts as something, right?

Lastly, the ass-grabbing. This one is less juicy, but I'm sure the guys will enjoy it cause it invovles girl-on-girl action. I went to an after Xmas brunch at my pal Hilda's place this morning, and I saw a bunch of my old pals. I've known my buddy Amber since the 7th grade, and she is greatness. Amber has been a tremendous support to me during some man-related unpleasantness this year, and I have helped her through some relocation unpleasantness after Tulane got evacuated, so I was really glad to see her. We have both lost some weight recently, so we were also anxious to see how each of us was lookin'. I got there, and Amber gave me a hug and said I looked great, and I said she looked great, and then we went on to make some samiches. About 5 minutes later, she come up from behind me and grabs my ass like a sailor and says, "look at that tiny, hot ass!" Amber doesn't even like hugging people really, so it was a shock to get handled so by her, but hey...I got some play, so that's cool. And if I was into chicks, I'd dig Amber.

So that's it, that's all my tales of my trip to Big D...so far (I'm only half way through my vacation, so think about what could happen next). Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of Bogda's Time in Big D! (Cool, space-ass-sounding music goes here)