This story comes 4 days after Mr. Heteroflexible happened. I know- it was a bit of an extraordinarily busy week.
It was a Saturday and I was visiting my dad’s place outside the 6ix. My older sisters came to visit as well and I told them about some of my struggles as a single yuppie trying to find a man (hookup descriptions were excluded from this story to preserve a bit of my integrity). I showed them my profiles on OkC and Tinder and swiped a couple times to show them how it worked since they were both in their thirties and have never tried it. Later that day, one of my matches messaged and we talked for a bit before meeting for coffee that same day. I wouldn’t normally rush into things like that but one of the key pieces of advice from my sisters was to just act on things while they’re fresh. According to them it’s best not to wait, stall or talk over a period of days because it can waste time and cause unnecessary disappointment (story of my life right there).
Upon first impression, Mr. Lawyer was cocky, smart and a touch strange. He spoke softly and opened our intros with a rant as to why Toronto is not as great a city as we think. I might admit I got a bit defensive at this point because really, how dare he talk about the 6ix in that way? However, over the course of our talking, his personality started to grow on me. He was currently finishing up an MBA/Law degree and heading to Calgary in a few months to work for a top law firm in the gas and oil industry. Impressive, right? Overall, it was an okay date which essentially means I wasn’t repulsed by him by the end of it. I wasn’t particularly attracted to him so I didn’t plan to see him again or turn this into something. Except somehow I did…
Later that night I was out in Toronto with a friend and just as we were heading back from the club, Mr. Lawyer messages me. Turns out he too was in the city and needed a place to crash for the night. Me being the generous and thoughtful person I am (and also pretty drunk at this point), I kindly offered my sofa to him. When I got home with my friend, Mr. Lawyer was waiting by my door. We all stumbled in and he lit a joint for us to share. Thankfully, I was smart enough to only take one hit but even that was enough to make me officially crunk. My friend wasn’t so wise and shortly after, I found her lying on my sofa throwing up quite violently – it wasn’t a pretty sight. Note that this is the same sofa Mr. Lawyer was originally supposed to crash on.
Of course at this point the only logical thing to do after taking care of my friend is to invite Mr. Lawyer to my bed where there is plenty of room for him to rest his head on my queen bed. I’m sure you can see where this is going. Like a bad rom com, we started hooking up. My head was spinning and I’m pretty sure I was barely coherent but we ended up having a pretty good time. The next day he got up and left and we went on our merry way. I was not expecting for that night to happen, but in hindsight, I guess it all just fell into place. I didn’t plan on seeing him again after that, but he continued to text (rather, sext) me for a couple weeks trying to meetup again.
He was persistent and I guess it worked because fast forward about 3 weeks later to yesterday, we finally managed to coordinate for him to come over for some late night fun. We smoked up and I probably took one hit too many because soon after I was talking in circles and his body parts somehow became my body parts. I was delirious to say the least, holding in my laughter and continuously licking my lips as my mouth had suddenly become the Sahara desert. At one point I had to get up and get a bottle of water and laid it next to me. As we continued to hookup, I would take water breaks every couple of minutes to replenish my parched throat. Everything was going relatively well, at least from what I could ascertain in my particular state, until we moved to the part where sex actually happens. Just as we were about to begin, the weed kicked in full force. My head was spinning and I was numb yet somehow alert. Then I said the be all to end all of sexual encounters. You know, the kind of sentence that makes the universal penis wilt and soften. I’ll share it with you and see if you agree. “Is that your finger or dick inside me?” Yup, I said that. My brain was in lalaland and could not compute what was actually entering me. I didn’t mean it in an offensive way but I was so lost and confused. Unfortunately, Mr. Lawyer certainly took it offensively. I think he said something to the effect of “how can you not tell the difference?” It wasn’t even a size matter that I was commenting on but it was too late, I shot the mood and it was only a matter of time before he got dressed and left. My bad.
After that spectacle, I don’t really feel the need to see Mr. Lawyer again. It was fun while it lasted but I can’t imagine him being too excited to see me again either. I even have second embarrassment reliving this experience. Boys and girls I have a lesson for you: do not smoke to excess before hooking up or else you will come off as a belligerent idiot who makes fun of someone’s manhood. Jesus, I hope he doesn’t sue me.