ManDingo Wants to Shaboink-ya: Part I

"It's only kinky the first time."

Ok so this past weekend was a mini Novela series. Parts were blurry, but I remember a substantial amount of events thanks to some camera whoring.

I don’t know if anyone remembers “slow boy” the last guy I dated. It doesn’t matter if anyone does, because I haven’t heard from him. He must be lost in a cloud of smoke somewhere. I hope all is well.

So with that said, I have moved on and boy does it just keep getting better and better. I met this new guy not too long ago. We went on a few dates, nothing major. He’s cute, funny, respectful, etc. He basically thinks I’m GOD, which is great. The problem, once again, is that he is too nice. Like vomit nice. Like please, shut-the-f*ck-up nice. (Yes, it is another case of him probably wanting what he can’t have and once he gets it, he won’t want it anymore). Cynic?

So anyways, a couple of girlfriends from out of town came to stir up some trouble with me this weekend. (You know the hot friends with the big boobies that get us free admission and free drinks). Before we leave to go out on Friday, I mention that, “I hope I don’t run into "new guy", because I was supposed to call him back, but I didn’t.”

So we get downtown in our slut attire. On our way to the bar we got some offers to make some quick cash, but we obliged. "How much?" some asshole yelled from down the block.“What mothaf*cka,” I yelled back. “Come back and say it to my face so I can kick you in the balls.” (People can be so rude). We make it to the bar and the lovely ladies get us right inside no sweat. Nice.

As soon as I walk into the bar, there he was, "new guy" 12’oclock. Just my luck. Good thing I’m so smooth at playing things off. I tried to do a quick magical disappearing act, when I heard him call out my name.

Damn it.

I turned back around, flashed him a fake smile and said a fake, “Hi.” He was with a few of his buddies so we all grouped up and headed for the bar. As we were leaning in to order our drinks, I said the first thing that came to my mind, “so, I was going to call you, but um yeah…” Ok that fell short, damn it, I couldn’t even think of an excuse. He cut me off.

“It’s cool,” he said. “I wanted to show you something though.”

“What?” I asked.

“My d*ck,” he replied.

I coughed and choked a little. (I swear some Tokyo Tea and a cherry squirted out of my nose).

“What?” I said again.

“Remember when you told me that you didn’t want to date me because you thought I had a little d*ck?” he said.

No way I thought to myself. I remembered thinking that, but more importantly, I didn't remember actually voicing it. Not to anyone, much less him.

“I said that?” I said. “I must have been drunk.” (It was the only justification I could come up with). Ok now I was embarrassed. I decided to leave it at that and went to go dance-it-off, with my girls.

By 2 a.m. the three of us came stumbling out of the bar hand in hand. We made it home piling on top of each other on my couch. We all got to work on our phones, going crazy drunk texting. I opened up my phone to (omg) find the thickest, longest shaboinka staring back at me. No he didn't. "New guy" was Mr. ManDingo himself…