That Ashley Girl

Thursday, September 02, 2004

Meet the Parents (Pre-Game)

The big dinner is tonight, despite various attempts by A.J. and myself to make it disappear.

I was talking to him on the phone late last night and we had the following exchange:

ASH: Do you think I should wear underwear?

A.J.: Please, don't even fuck around. Wear a burka.

ASH: Okay, but I don't want panty lines with it.

A.J.: Just so you know, if I'm not there, it means I killed myself.

ASH: Okay. What should I wear to the funeral?

Wish me luck!

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

World's Best/Worst Pick-Up Line

I've talked before about the thin line between a boy being aggressive and a boy being scary, and I've also talked a little bit about the effectiveness of pick-up lines. Last night, I saw those two things come together in an interesting way.

I was at a get-together with some friends and some strangers, and a boy approached a girl I was standing near and they had the following exchange:

BOY: Hey ... what's your name?

GIRL: Amanda.

BOY: Cool ... cool.

[Awkward silence]

BOY: So ... you like to suck dick?

GIRL: What?

BOY: Dick. Do you like to suck it?

GIRL: Fuck off.

Now, my first reaction was to hate this boy and think of him as a complete asshole. However, I thought about it and, while he's most certainly still a huge asshole, he might be on to something.

Think of it like this ... That line takes almost literally no effort or thought. He can just go up to a girl and say it, without having to worry about continuing the conversation in any way.

He doesn't have to worry about being funny or charming or interesting. Either she tells him to fuck off and the conversation is over or she says yes and they go into the bathroom and she blows him.

I'm not saying it's the best approach, since I'm guessing it has rarely, if ever, worked, but if you're a reasonably attractive boy with little to no sense or humor, intelligence or "rap" of any kind, there are worse options.

In other words, let's say a cute, uninteresting, unfunny boy has a 1% chance of getting an immediate blow job from that line. What are the chances of that same boy getting an immediate blow job if he simply introduces himself, starts a conversation, tries to make her smile, and all the other "normal" stuff. Maybe 2%? And with the "you like to suck dick?" way, there's no effort involved.

By the way, this is yet another of the infinite number of ways boys and girls are totally different. A boy asking a girl if she likes to suck dick is met with a disgusted look and a perhaps a slap to the face. However, how many boys do you know who would react badly to an attractive girl coming up to them and beginning the conversation with, "So, you like to eat pussy?"

The answer, once the boy picked his jaw up off the floor, rolled his tongue back into his mouth and looked around the room to see if he was on Punk'd, would probably be something like, "Yes ma'am!"

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Meet the Parents

For those of you wondering, yes, I am as charming in person as I am on this blog.

I was at A.J.'s house taking perhaps my last swim in his pool before summer ends, and his mom said the sweetest thing to me. I was standing in the kitchen, waiting for A.J. to change clothes so we could head out, and she came over to me, handed me a Sprite out of the refrigerator, and said, "I really like you ... I hope he doesn't screw this up."

I said, "Aw, thanks. I like you too!"

And then somehow she convinced me that it would be a good idea for my parents and I to come over for dinner before school starts.

Now, this isn't such a huge deal, because my parents have actually met A.J.'s parents plenty of times, but it's still a little nerve-racking.

I pitched the idea to my parents, trying to make it sound like something they should say no to, and they were like, "Yes! When? Where? Should we bring anything?"

So that's what we're doing Thursday night (my brother declined, probably because he thinks he can have the house to himself and sneak his girlfriend in again). The six of us, like one big happy family, eating and drinking and trying not to bring up the fact that the couple in the room having sex most often is probably the one that's not married.

A.J., of course, had absolutely no idea about any of this until I broke the news to him. I'm pretty sure he thought I was joking at first, because he said, "Great ... maybe we can all play pictionary or something."

Once he figured out I was serious, he said, "No offense, but I really don't want to have dinner with your parents ... especially not with my parents there too."

I didn't say anything for a few seconds, so he continued, "And I'm sure you don't want to have dinner with my parents again either."

"Oh no, I love your parents," I said. "Your mom is a big fan of mine."

"How do you know?" he asked.

"Cause she told me," I deadpanned.

"You know what? I'm sick of you," he proclaimed, giving me a little shove as he rubbed his forehead like a man who had just been sentenced to life in prison.

I was thinking about the dinner and, while I'm not as against it as A.J. is, I do think there's very little possibility of it going well. I mean, my parents are pretty cool and his parents are pretty cool, but there's a difference between cool parents and parents who can make a dinner between themselves and their fuck-buddy kids comfortable.

As usual, I'll keep you posted.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Mr. Helpful

So I'm sitting on the couch Saturday afternoon, nursing my hangover, and my mom and dad start talking about their plans for moving me back to school.

About three minutes into the conversation, my brother comes downstairs from his room, perhaps nursing his own hangover, hears what the conversation is about, and says, "I'll help out."

For those of you who don't know my brother, this is the equivalent of Mary Kate Olsen volunteering to finish the last piece of pizza. He just doesn't help people with stuff, it's just not what he does. Especially when it involves me.

I thought about it and I have two theories:

1) He sees that his own college experience is just a couple years down the road and he wants to get a feel for what it's like to be on campus, in a dorm, hanging out with other students.

2) He thinks he can get laid by being my brother and introducing himself to all my friends at school.

Perhaps it's even a combination of both. Either way, I'll take his help. I'm not a big fan of lifting stuff, generally speaking.

That said, I put the odds of him showing up on moving day and successfully putting the moves on any of my friends at somewhere between "no chance" and "are you kidding?!" And that's despite the fact that most of the ladies I hang with aren't exactly stingy with the pussy.

My dad, on the other hand, is always a big hit with the ladies on move-in day. He's got that "he's old but not that old" thing that college girls seem to go for.

Plus, he's nice looking, he's funny, and he likes to flirt with everyone who doesn't have a penis (and sometimes even then). I can't tell you how many times I've heard "Oh my God, your dad is so cool!" from my friends.

I'm not quite sure how I feel about the fact that my dad has a better chance of getting laid moving me in than my brother, and that's despite the fact that my mom will be straggling along, not lifting a finger, and complaining that I "always bring too much stuff ... who needs all this clothing?"

This from a woman who has a closet that is literally bigger than my entire dorm room. Oh, and she always likes to act completely shocked when she "realizes" boys and girls live on the same floor, as if she's some prude who wasn't on a college campus in the 1970s.

If I had any guts or a sick sense of humor, I'd point out to her that the shower stall is the perfect size for two people, and the little ledge for soap and shampoo is great for putting your foot up on when you're getting fucked from behind.