A Picture of his HMMM HUH…..

I met a guy, TEL, at my friend’s birthday party at the Cheesecake Factory.  I’d heard amazing things about TEL leading up to this impromptu encounter.  We had lots of mutual friends, and everyone spoke highly of him.  When we finally encountered each other, he lived up to his hype.  He was deep without trying to be a gentleman like.  We exchanged numbers, and I was looking forward to hearing from him….but not like this.

I looked down at my phone, rereading his text.  The text came through just as I was pulling in at my place from another night out.  It read:  “Kiss.  You pick which lips.”

Ugh.  I’m more of a “Hey, just thinking about you” or “Have a wonderful day” kinda girl.  I was a little offended that TEL would come at me like that, especially since our first conversation was about the marketing power of social networking, not anything sexual.

That text was the third one TEL had sent, and each one was increasingly worse.  I remember talking to a bunch of guys once about what women need to know most about men, and many said that men don’t know it all.  They act as if they do, of course.  But generally, when a man effs up, it’s not with the intent to do so.  Sometimes you’ve just got to tell him what he did or is doing wrong.  So I wrote back to TEL, letting him know that his texts were habitually stepping on the line circling my comfort zone.

He wrote back, apologizing profusely.  The next time I saw him, he apologized again.  He seemed genuinely sorry.  And from then on, anytime he text me, it was along the lines of “Hey, Reagan, what’s good?”

I was glad I’d said something.  Otherwise, I could have lost a potential friend over an error in his judgment.  He was a good dude who did a bad thing.  I often say you have to learn the difference between a good man who effs up and an effed-up man given to occasional moments of grandeur.

A MONTH LATER

I threw a “house party”  Saturday night with my girls Drea, and Katrell.  About  a hundred people in the backyard of my house partying till four A.M.  My phone was dead most of the night, so no e-mails came through.  I realized this when the party ended and charged my phone.

I was sorting through a ton of messages while sitting on my kitchen counter drinking water from a gallon jug, when I noticed one  e-mail came from a guest at the party.  It was from TEL, a.k.a.  Good Guy Who Does Bad Things. Er?  The subject read “NSFW” (not safe for work).

My curiosity got the best of me.  I clicked.  In summary, he said he’s insecure about his looks, but is great at sex as his penis is very large.  He talks to women about sex all the time because he’s confident in his ability to please.  He wants to know if I think he has a problem.

There were five attachments to his e-mail.  As I waited for them to download, I felt a bit ba for him.  He had such a low opinion of himself, and despite the negative traits he pointed out, I still thought he was really cute.

When the pictures arrived, I saw that they were, all of them, shots of his very hard penis from different angles.  I wondered if he took them in the bathroom at my party – or if he actually kept pictures of his penis on his phone.

I sat on the e-mail for two days.  I was completely blown but I didn’t know how to respond or even if I should.  Like a big reaction was what he wanted, right?  I mean, that’s why a guy shows a woman his penis on her phone, right?  Then I was, like, dude was a perv, certifiably nuts, and I didn’t want to flip and have him excited by the attention and continue doing pervish things.  I mean, was this the beginning of some stalker ish?

I told Katrell about the e-mail, and she called me a prude.  “How big was it?”  she asked.  “Forward me the pics.”

Drea was equally confused.  “I’m  sorry, what?” she began.  “You’re mad that a man with a big dick is interested in having sex with you?  Am I missing something here?”

I questioned my outrage until I read the e-mail again.  Nope.  Uh-uh.  Still offended.  I have to say something.  I finally wrote to him: “I’m extremely uncomfortable with your last e-mail.  Please don’t contact me again.”  He wrote back ten minutes later explaining he was “drunk and high.”  He understands my reaction and is very sorry.

I’ve been drunk.  I’ve done some amazingly dumb ish.  I’ve never gotten the urge to send pics of my va-jay-jay or even my breasts from my camera phone or my computer.  I don’t even have pics of my va-jay-jay.  Do most people?  Am I rare?

The following morning, I received a ring at my door.  It was this guy from one of the local florist.  He was walking up the driveway of my house carrying this huge orchid.  He set the cellophane-wrapped flower on the counter inside of the kitchen.

I looked at him.  I looked at the orchid.  I looked back at him.  “What is that?”

He looked at me.  He looked at the orchid.  he looked back at me.  “It’s for you.”

“No, it’s not.”

He nodded. “It is.”

I spotted the card and tore into the plastic to get it.  Did Dean send me flowers?  Did that amazing wonderful, gorgeous man send me this gigantic thing?  I hadn’t had a man send me flowers since RAM.  I ripped open the envelope excitedly and pulled out the card.

It was from Good Guy Who Does Bad things, whom I’d since come to think of as Bad Guy Given to Occasional Moments of Grandeur.  I was deflated and immediately plopped into my chair to read it: “Blah, blah, blah.  Sorry.  Blah, blah, blah.  Forgive me.”

I looked up at the gigantic orchid towering over me.  It reminded me of a huge, curved penis.  Just like the pictures on my BlackBerry.

This is not irony.  I should have sent it back.  But then, it wasn’t as if he’d ever know.  Was the florist going to call and tell him?  They’d either trash it – a shame, because it really was beautiful – or resell it.

I told the florist guy the back story about the orchid.  He agreed with my assessment that there was phallic imagery going on.  He was disgusted, too.

“You keeping it?” he asked.

“I dunno.”

Keeping the orchid wasn’t about the orchid.  It was about whether I’d forgive the dude.  I couldn’t figure out if he had made an honest mistake….again and I was being prudish, hypersensitive, or unusually conservative about the whole thing.  Or if he was an effing pervert and I was having problems accepting that because he had such good word-of-mouth.

So I decided to keep the orchid.  I forgave but refused to speak to TEL again.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s