I went on a date with a guy named Joe the other night. I didn’t want it to be a date because compared to the fit, tan pretty boys I’ve been hooking up with this summer, this guy looked like Ronald McDonald. He was a pale, balding ginger who, although he said he worked out, didn’t have a single visible muscle to show for it.
But I was pissed at my main boy Spencer so I decided to give Joe a chance. Besides, what’s the harm in getting to know someone?
Joe took me to a bar, Dude and Dans. We both happened to know our server there- it’s a small town.
Joe was an accountant but used to be a chef at every restaurant in town. He said that he loved it, but his body couldn’t take the overworked, underpaid career anymore. He used to work 100 hour work weeks.
Joe grew up in the slums of Chicago and as a result of being friends with primarily Mexicans, he learned Spanish at a young age. The summer between Joe’s junior and senior year of high school, he went to Europe and decided to just not come back. He got a job and a home in Ireland and stayed for 6 months, 3 months past when his visa expired. As a result, his passport was cut up and he was put in handcuffs for his plane ride home. He couldn’t travel for 7 years.
Joe has 3 college degrees and is finishing up his fourth in accounting. He sold drugS to pay for those degrees. He wanted to be a doctor and so his first degree was in organic charm with a biology minor but he was jailed for weed possession and if you have a criminal record you can’t become a doctor.
He spent 6 months in jail where he occupied his time working out and reading. He said when he came out of jail, he was pretty much the most eligible bachelor, fit and knowledgable. After that it was back to school, which meant back to selling drugs, and therefore, more jail time.
Joe doesn’t have a single student loan. And in a country where most people with decent careers are stuck paying off their student loans for years and years, maybe selling drugs wasn’t the dumbest idea. Joe says although his parents couldn’t afford to pay for Joe’s college, they ended up becoming successful and did pay for 2 years of his brother’s college as well as all of his financial expenses for all for years. And 7 years after he graduated, he brother is still paying off what student loans he did have.
So after telling me all of this, with my own stories intertwined of course, Joe paid our bill, tipped our server 50% in cash, and invited me to his house to drink my favorite drink ever, Basel Hayden’s- it’s a decently expensive bourbon by the way. At least more than Maker’s Mark. Plus it’s the smoothest.
I fell asleep on the couch until about 3AM. And when I woke up, I asked if I could stay over because it was 3AM. Of course. I had sex with Joe. His soft, squishy body was actually super comfortable compared to the rock solid ones I’d become accustomed to. The sex was decent as well. He pretty much knew what he was doing. It definitely wasn’t anything crazy though. And he didn’t cum.
The next morning Joe could not stop complimenting me. I know it’s because I was much hotter than he was (which didn’t take much) but compliments make me feel awkward so I was less than enthused. We had sex again and Joe still didn’t cum which made me feel sort of bad. Then he took me to breakfast which he paid for even despite my insistence. And then he drove me home. So far this summer, I had 1 guy pay for 1 meal of mine and nobody ever go out of their way to drive me anywhere so it was nice. My non-date was much better then expected.