The dark haired cunt that I met at 8 Minute Dating’s name was Angel. She turned out to be anything but. Here’s the deal. I call the her up on Thursday and tell her that we’re going out on Friday. She starts playing it off like she has some “other” plans already. I tell her that she should immediately delete my number from her phone if she is going to already start playing fucking games. I don’t need that stupid shit. Naturally she tells me she’ll reschedule her phony fucking plans for later. Whatever. She starts giving me some shit about not calling her the day after we met like I had promised. That’s why she made plans.
Me: You are really starting to bring me down with all this talk about my broken promises. Promises are for the weak. I don’t PLAN shit. I just LIVE shit. If you can’t deal with that then hit the fucking road.
Angel the nag: Sorry. I was just saying. It’s not a big deal.
Me: Can we please just fucking move on? where are you taking me tomorrow?
Angel the nag: Well… there’s a loft party I was invited to. We could do that.
Me: Will there be any pussy there?
Angel the nag: What do you mean?
Me: Pussy. Good looking broads. Sluts. Whores. Chicks. Cum Dumpsters.
Angel the nag: I thought this was a date. You and me.
Me: You are awful fucking clingy. We’ve never even been on a fucking date and your putting all these fucking restrictions on me? You are one warped fucking broad. No wonder you have to go to dating events to get a man.
Angel the nag: I just thought we would hang out and get to know each other.
Me: Oh yeah, so that you can try to change me into some fucking zombie dude? No thanks, you creepy fuck.
I just hung up and made myself a gin and tonic and sat down to try to calm down. These broads think they can do anything they fucking want. MEN have trained them this way. “Please control my life because you have a pussy!” Fucking idiots. Not me. I’d rather fuck porn whores the rest of my life than put up with that shit.
I just sat there on my couch getting more and more pissed off and buzzed. I finished what was left of the bottle of Bombay Sapphire. Bored, angry and horny, I decided to call Angel and set things straight.
Me: We got off on the wrong foot earlier. I’m willing to give you another shot to make this right.
Angel the nag: I’m not sure how it got messed up but I’m willing to try again.
Me: Here’s what you are going to do. I want you to come over my apartment to talk right now. Stop on the way and pick up a box of rubbers and a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin.
Angel the nag: um. Ok.
I tell her my address and lay back down on the couch. I accidentally dozed off. When I woke up it was 3 hours later and my cell had 7 missed calls. All of them from Angel (I knew this whore was clingy.) Apparently she came by and rang the buzzer and I didn’t hear it. She waited for awhile until someone let her the building and she came up to my apartment and knocked on the door. I must have slept through that. I must have really been tired. Anyway, the last message she left, she was crying and called ME and asshole. As if I MEANT to fall asleep and miss out on some new pussy. She was nothing but trouble anyway. fuck her.
I never called her back. I knew it would only lead to her being a big disappointment. This is the kind of shit you get when you deal with civilians. They’re all kinda fucked in their own way. The one good thing about the evening was when I went to leave my house on Friday morning, there was a new bottle of gin and a full box of rubbers in front of my door!
My date with an Angel was a complete failure but Saturday’s date with the blonde (Kristina) was just a fucking nightmare. More on that tomorrow.
Out!
Jack
