Just Another Night


So, I have a bunch of stuff I should probably write about, I’ve even started several posts, but I just had an interesting experience and I want to write about it.

Tonight was my first philosophy class.  Woohoo, I know.  It’s really cool that I got back into school.  Anyway, the class didn’t start until late so I didn’t get back home until late.

I pulled into my parking spot about ten o’clock at night.  As I walked toward the apartment building I noticed that there was a light on in the car beside mine.  It wasn’t a big light, it was almost invisible from outside the car, it was one of the little ones for the back seat in a sedan, but it was definitely on.

Now, I don’t know where you grew up, so what I’m about to say might sound weird, but in my home town if you see something like that you make sure to say something about it.  Where I’m from, a dead car battery is, no shit, a life or death situation.  And with the cold temperatures, someone leaving their headlights on (or dome lights, or whatever) can kill a battery way faster than you might think.  Sometimes it only takes ten minutes and the car won’t start.

But where I live now it’s definitely not a life or death situation.

I hesitated, I’ll admit it.  It was late at night, I didn’t know those neighbors, and most modern cars have circuits that will turn off lights before the battery dies.

((A quick side note: the reason I don’t know these neighbors is because they’re renters that just moved in.  That unit has a really high turn over rate.))

I only hesitated for a moment though.

Now, nobody likes having a stranger show up on their doorstep after 10 o’clock at night.  I know that.  I also know what’s worse than having a stranger show up after 10 o’clock is having a big, strange, white dude with a shaved head and tattoos show up.  (What made it slightly easier for me was I’d just come from class and was dressed nicely, a polo shirt instead of my usual black T.)

Another relevant detail, while we live in a gated apartment complex the neighborhood outside gets pretty sketchy when the sun goes down.  We all lock our doors.

So, with all that in mind, I struck a pose as submissive and apologetic as I could and knocked on the neighbor’s door.  This is America, I assume everyone has a gun.  And, honestly, I’m one of the most easy going dudes you’ll ever meet but if I was home with my family and some stranger knocked on the door after 10 I’d be tempted to answer with gun behind my back.  So, as the person knocking, I want to try and put whoever answers the door to ease as quick as I can.

A very cautious, young, black woman answered.  Now, I knew that the reinforced screen door (“bad” neighborhood) was locked because I tried to open it so I could knock when I realized they didn’t have a door bell, so I wasn’t surprised when she opened the inner door but made no motion towards the outer door.  Smart woman.

From her body language I’m sure she was alone.

I quickly apologized for interrupting her evening and explained that there was a light on in her car.  She looked like she was still in shock over having a white dude on her porch, either that or she thought I was trying to pull something over on her, so I ended up explaining the car-light-battery thing a couple times.

It was a very quick conversation.  When I was sure she understood what I was talking about I said good night and turned to leave.

I was listening for it, she didn’t leave her apartment to check the car until I was halfway to my place.  She wasn’t going to step outside until she was sure I wasn’t anywhere near her door.  Smart girl.

Now, part of me found this whole thing totally ridiculous and at the same time totally justifiable.  It’s almost hard to explain.

I was trying to do this family a favor… but I was scared I might get shot for being a strange dude knocking at night… and she’s scared because there’s a strange dude knocking at night.  (The Luis C.K. joke comes to mind, “Men are the worst thing that ever happened to women.”)

For both of our safety we have to do this established dance.  I make sure I leave at least an arms length between me and the door so I’m not in their face immediately, keep my hands visible, communicate clearly and make no moves that might be taken as too assertive or aggressive.  For her part, keeping a locked door between me and her, making sure she didn’t leave any openings or vulnerabilities, waiting for me to leave before opening the door, etc.

I mean, those are the kinds of practical precautions that I would teach my son or daughter – for both sides of the situation.  I did what I could to keep a potentially tense situation from escalating, she answered the door but took practical precautions.  It makes sense.

And yet, at the same time, it’s really kind of ridiculous that a two second favor requires that dance.  It seems silly but I can’t think of an easy alternative.  Ridiculous but justifiable.

Just had to share.

 

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Could have been bad


So, I got a call from Cat the other day that was quite unexpected and could have gone very badly if our divorced relationship weren’t as good.

Before I get to what was said, I’d like to talk a little bit about her current husband.  I’ve been calling him Captain Awesome (CA), entirely unironically, for a while in my draft posts but for various reasons they weren’t posted.  He’s seriously an awesome dude and anyone who’s watched Chuck will get the reference. The kind of guy who’s so perfect you  want to hate him but is such a good dude you just can’t.  CA is tall, pretty in a way that sends women of all ages into a tizzy (seriously), successful, smart, has a bad ass job that more than compensates for his prettiness, and is exceptionally good with the kids.  Not only all that but he’s gone above and beyond when it comes to making sure I’m involved with the family, as well as being cool with me and Cat’s strange-but-friendly divorce.  I couldn’t have asked for a better dude to get added to the family and help watch over my kid.

Okay, on to the story.

Cat doesn’t typically call me, she’s far more of a texter or she’ll send a facebook update, so when I saw her name on the caller ID I was a little concerned.  What she said surprised me though.

“Sooooo, CA was just on the computer.  He noticed that your profile pic on Skype is not something kid friendly.  Do you know what it is?”

Ummm… okay.  I only use skype to talk to our daughter and to my mother, neither of which happens as often as it should, but the last time I’d been on the profile pic was an astronaut penguin or something ridiculous like that.  It was one of their default options.

But when I logged into my account I didn’t see a penguin, I saw a large cock that had just cum all over the hand holding it.  Yeah… not my style.  Not the kind of thing I’d have put for ANY profile pic, let alone one used to communicate with family.  And… it wasn’t my cock.  I was hacked.  Why, who knows?  At least there wasn’t anything too bad they could have gotten.

Thankfully, whoever hacked my account didn’t bother to change the password.  I was able to get in, change the photo and get a new password.

I told Cat, “Yeah, I didn’t put that up.”

She said that’s what she’d thought.  Apparently, when CA had shown her the image she’d laughed and remarked that it wasn’t mine.  As in, she looked at the photo on my profile and said that it wasn’t my cock.  We were married for ten years.

We both laughed at that.

Just take a second to wallow in the ridiculousness of the situation.  My ex-wife’s current husband found a cock shot for my profile pic and shows her, she laughs and tells him it’s not mine, then calls me so I can change it.  We’re not only cool with that, it’s quite humorous.

This is one of the reasons why I’m extremely appreciative of the relationship that Cat and I and Captain Awesome have.  What could have been an extremely awkward, uncomfortable, angry situation wasn’t any of those things.  It was like a very strange adult joke that we were all in on.

I just hope my mom didn’t see it, that conversation would be far less amusing.

Follow up email


Okay, I couldn’t help myself.  That shouldn’t surprise all of you.  I replied to the weird email that I talked about in the previous post.  The message was just too off the wall, I needed to know more.  Turns out the story gets even stranger.

In the first email, dude basically offers me the use of his nympho sub for the summer.  Yeah.   There was nothing about the message that interested me at all, rather the attitude the dude had was really bothersome, which is what the last post was about.

But I couldn’t just leave it there,  I wrote back a quick, two line message.  Basically a “tell me more”.  I didn’t really want to engage with him but I was curious about him and the situation.  Call me an amateur sociologist.

We’re going with Bob and Sierra for names, for now.  According to him, long term “FWB” with a big kinky streak.

This was his response (edited for anonymity):

“Sierra is my sub, she calls me her Master.  She’s early 40’s, (irrelevant details).  I’m early 50’s, (irrelevant details).  She’s into all kinds of kink, especially playing with multiple guys.  We’re DDF and tested often.  We are hoping to share her while you’re in the area as long as you’re discrete and can host.  You sounded like someone who would appreciate the opportunity.”

Alright, on the surface there are some oddities but there were a couple details that really stood out.  Specifically, they’re both decades older than me, have been playing together for four years… but can’t host and emphasize being discrete…

What the fuck?  This screams “we’re two adults cheating on our significant others and looking for somewhere to hook up”.  Probably tired of making out in cars or paying for hotel rooms.  But this dude acts like he’s trying to do me a favor?

For those of you who don’t know me so well… I’m an extraordinarily private person.  I’m a hermit in training and don’t waste my time on most people.  Sure, Bob doesn’t know that… but what kind of unreasonable douchebag is he?  Not only treating Sierra like shit, he’s probably cheating on a wife or long time partner, and he’s willing to offer his mistress’ orifices to a stranger just to have a place to fuck her.

My response (edited for anonymity):

“Bob, I appreciate your offer but felt that I should outline my own positions before we go any further.  I don’t play with couples or groups unless I’m very comfortable with them beforehand, and I’m certainly not interested in being anyone’s third wheel.  If (Sierra) wants to meet with me, see if we get along, that would be a good first step.  If Sierra and I click maybe down the line I’d be open to adding others.  But it would only be in stages and accommodating all of our comfort levels.

“Second, your concern for ‘discrete’ partners and inability to host implies to me that you’re both involved with others and this is some side situation, which I’m not okay with.  If that isn’t the case, please set me straight.”

Yeah, I was more polite than I needed to be, but I’m a polite kind of guy and I was still curious what info I could get from him.

His reply was unsurprising:

“Yes, we are, as you put it, ‘involved’ with other people but we’ve been together for (years) and have never had any drama.  Sierra only plays with me, so if you’re suggesting time with just her than there is nothing else to really discuss.  Good luck with your search.”

Yeah, that put pretty much all my questions to rest.

There are so many douche bags out there.  I’m quite sincere when I tell people that I’m glad I’m not a woman in the dating scene these days, I couldn’t stand it.

Hot Lunch


I know it’s a bit of a click-bait title but I couldn’t help it.  (And, sorry Sassygirl40, no smut yet.  Just haven’t been feeling it recently.)

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here.  I’ve been busy adulting.  I’m getting ready for the impending move and taking care of a bunch of things.  Even got my taxes done before the deadline, pretty good for someone like me who always puts everything off to the last minute.

Anyway, as today represents the end of a very long and mostly productive week I took myself out to lunch at Subway.  Big spender, I know.  But one of the things that I love about the Subway near where I work is that it’s always staffed by hot women.  Shallow, probably, but it makes the whole experience a little nicer.

Today, there was an absolutely gorgeous redhead serving me, totally my type.  Athletic but still with curves, some tasteful tattoos, pretty but down to earth.  She looked like the type that probably played Roller Derby on the weekends, or at least had some friends that did.  That she had a great smile and got my jokes were just icing on the cake.

And a wedding ring.

Too bad.

I really wanted to take her aside and ask her where I could meet someone just like her.  Maybe ask her if she had a twin sister that was single, or failing that maybe a best friend.  And I probably would have said something if the place hadn’t gotten busy.  Well, that and I wasn’t sure if it would come off as weird.

Maybe next time.

Black Friday


Okay, I’m still on break but some stories just need to be written down (I’m still grumpy but getting laid helps).

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I hate consumerism, I hate shopping, I hate big crowds of people, so Black Friday is the worst day of the year for me.  Most years I make an effort to not even step outside that day; it’s like a tornado, I just hide in my apartment and wait for it to pass.  However, the crazy store hours came in awfully handy this week.

Since Stephanie I’d done zero playing, dating, looking.  Nothing.  For months.  I’m still not up for anything serious mentally or physically, and I’m still moving sometime next year, but the last couple weeks I’ve been running a lot more to get ready for a race… and running really pumps up the libido.  While I might not be up for dating, I was definitely up for some f***ing. Continue reading

Alcohol leads to…


Like most people I have a love-hate relationship with alcohol.  Usually when I’m drinking I love it, while the hate is usually reserved for the next morning.

It also sometimes means I don’t always remember what was so fun about the night before.

This weekend I decided to have a ‘me’ day, just drinking and playing video games.  Stephanie, not having any plans, decided to hang out too.  I didn’t have a problem with that, the whole ‘friends’ thing has been working out pretty well so far.  As long as she didn’t care that I planned on getting blasted.

Continue reading

People Suck


You ever have those weeks that feel like you’re in a Super Villain origin story?  Everyone just seems so stupid and ridiculous and nothing goes your way?  Like the universe is pushing you toward the extremes and by the end of the week you’re cackling madly and dreaming of killer robot designs and world domination?

Maybe that’s just me. Continue reading

Bad Dreams


If you’re a softy like me when it comes to family and children, I’d advise you to skip this post.

When I dream my brain goes to some crazy places.  Most of the time I can trace back the epic stories to some catalyst during the day.  When I did Walking Dead binges my dreams would start off with some predictable zombie scenario but then spin out into these crazy places.  But almost always I can pin point the inspiration.

The few times I can’t are usually the nightmares.  Unlike the epic adventures, these almost seem to stem from some otherworldly influence.  Some dark force creeps into the room and implants the seeds of those bottomless dreams.  Corridors of horror that only lead to more corridors, endless doors into the blackest of the black.

Last night was one of those. Continue reading

The Unfinished Line


I thought I’d give everyone a glimpse into how my brain works today.

This afternoon I was walking my pup I saw something that piqued my curiosity.  A Mercedes.  Just seeing a car wouldn’t mean much, this is a wealthy town, but what happened next was weird.  It stopped.

While the town I live in has a lot of millionaires, or at least their vacation houses, I live in the bad neighborhood.  Like a lot of nice places they managed to single out a neighborhood for all the druggies, broke people, and anyone they don’t want mixing with the blue bloods.  The park, across the creek from my apartment, has to have the homeless population routinely rousted.  On the other side of my building is a halfway house. Continue reading

The Cover Process


Over the years I’ve put up a few dozen comics and cartoons on this site.  They’re fun, they’re quick, and they amuse me greatly.  I’m not a terrific artist by any means, barely a decent cartoonist, but I’ve got a few skills.

And sometimes I use those skills to create covers for the stories I’m writing.  It’s a motivational thing, makes it easier to get through the project if I have some vision of what it could look like when I’m done.
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A couple weeks ago I mentioned something new I’m doing, an erotica-noir-satire that’s all around dirty, sleazy and fun.  I’ve also worked out a draft cover for it and thought I would share my process for creating them.  It’s not fast, it’s actually a pretty big pain in the butt, and I’m sure there are easier ways, but this is what works best for me (so far).  And this is one of the more straightforward covers I’ve done.

Continue reading