Sometimes you lose. Sometimes, you REALLY lose. Meeting people online is NOT a guarantee that their personality matches their online persona. The Jewish Asshole is such a case. Disclaimer: this is probably a terrible read, but, I need/want to write all of my experiences. At least the next two are awesome. Cheers!
It didn’t take long for me to bored at my new job. I needed something to tie me over while Tony Stark was busy with holiday things. For the first time when posting an ad, I wanted to say I was in a relationship. I didn’t say exactly what stage of a relationship, or exactly why I was looking for something more, but that I was. I got a whole new type of men: men wanting someone that would NEVER be attached. I fit that perfectly. Perfect Baggage taught me that. The first one I met was also the first man that ever fucked me literally and figuratively. There were flags that he was just replying to random people and not actually “looking”:
His initial email was incredibly long. I replied and asked quite a few questions; his response was two sentences. One was him asking where I lived.
He didn’t have a car but drove as a chauffeur for someone. I don’t judge…but I should see the signs now. Car and adult beds are necessary to hang with Catherine.
We texted just one day and he wanted me to come see him. Should always wait more than that. Always.
He never even asked about birth control, stds, condoms–nothing. Let’s just toss this penis in a vagina and hope for the best!
Jewish Asshole was my height, wore glasses, 28 (3 years my senior), Jewish (obviously), very cute, from Chicago with a Chicago style personality, and when I saw his penis….it was average, I guess. He was very full of himself through text and in person. When I got there, his place was a shrine to the Dallas Cowboys. I hate the Cowboys. He had three lizard things that he kissed like they were his children. Jewish Asshole mentioned that he was great at massages, so I took him up on it. Annnnd that’s how I had the most awkward breathing in my ear sex. First I thought he was sick. No, he wasn’t. He just always sounded like a 40+ year old overweight man. The sex wasn’t that good. He kept the same pace, thrust length, and that was it. Jewish Asshole loved getting head, but never touched my pussy–clit included. Period.
So, the sex didn’t make him the asshole. How he (or some magical fairy) stole from me makes him the asshole. The very first time I was there, we smoked some pot together. It doesn’t lower my inhibitions or memory like alcohol. I KNOW I put things in my purse. When I left, my iPod wasn’t in my purse. I texted him the next day when I realized it. He looked and found it underneath a chair. It was turned off when I got it the next day. It was not mine and was broken. Now, before we get into the whole, you needed to go to the police or something, how do I explain to my partner that this happened while I was having casual sex with this asshole. I confronted him, and he told me that he had no reason to steal my iPod. I believed him because I didn’t have a reason not to, and he gave me some crazy to believe story that I kinda believed. I didn’t learn my lesson.
He liked me coming over to just hang out; we watched tv, movies, and football. He wasn’t terrible, he was just…not that great of a friend. Jewish Asshole bummed rides from me to go to places. One time he did, we went back to his place, and when I left…money from my purse was gone. Just gone. He swore he would never take it and it must have happened before. I couldn’t remember when the last time it was I had it, so, I didn’t accuse him. I did stop bringing my purse in with me. Just my phone and keys. And then, the last “mysterious” vanishing of something was my brand new phone. I freaked the fuck out, and rightfully so. I called and called, I did the locator on it and nothing. He even gave me an excuse to say to my partner. After that, I then avoided him. I am the worst at confrontation and calling someone out. He decided to finally text me and see if I wanted to hang out; I declined and said I was busy. I never heard from him again.
So, in conclusion, don’t trust people. They don’t deserve your trust unless they’ve earned it. When the wind blows, trash comes.
Lessons learned: Don’t keep hanging out with thieves. Or be a fool. Or both, really. Classy men have cars, right? Even if they’re clunkers, they have a car.
The Daring Vagina