I am at a doof. It is a sunny morning. The hill is crowded, but pleasantly so. There are smiles and there is exuberant stomping as the speaker stacks charge the air with thumping, pulsing, squelchy psytrance goodness. The strongest chemical I have had is coffee, so I close my eyes, burrow in and try to find that place in the music... ah yes, there it is, and I am dancing.
Something intrudes on my newly-found hit of daytime bliss. Something soft and round.
I open my eyes and the intrusion is a pair of reasonably yummy buttocks. A girl is moving her arse against me in a very obvious way. She turns to face me, clearly wondering what I thought about that hot piece of action. I look at the girl and smile, my smile clearly saying, “Look, thank you. It’s really very flattering and it’s really a very nice bottom and everything, and on another day or under other more intoxicated circumstances I might do something like, you know, gently take you by the hips and rub up against your sensational arse with my totally awesome pants bulge. But right at this particular point in time I really just want to lose myself in this music.”
No sooner am I back in the music than Arse Girl is at it again. She is lap dancing me in a way that will not be ignored. I open my eyes just as she runs both hands through her hair and does a smoldering hair flick, her sultry over-the-shoulder smirk clearly saying, “Good, huh? Want some? Yeah... you want it.”
This time my smile takes a sterner approach: “Look here. Um – yes, very good. Possibly the best arse grinding action I’ve experienced in half my life. But right now at this point in time all I really really really want to do is dance by myself to this music. Please?”
Her smoldering smile changes. “You prick. What are we all doing here if it’s not to get horny on the dancefloor? What are you – some kind of deviant?”
My smile twitches and says. “Look I just –“
“Fuck you,” her smile tells me. “You selfish prick.”
And she is gone.
I close my eyes and try to block out the memory of her her wiggly bum. I try to find my place inside the music but it just doesn’t work. Because try as I might, I really just don’t get why so many of you women have to think with your vaginas.
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7 comments:
Dude. That's exactly what we've been wondering about men and their penises for ages. Next time you should spray yourself with repellent...might keep those bouncing bottom ladies to the sides :-) But it just sounds like she's not used to be rejected...maybe it was a good thing.
I know what you mean. It made me feel like such a woman. It was pretty funny.
Maybe it might have been kinder to tell her you have an aqua-blue blog with fine white trim.
that's hilarious. Oh, a smile can say so much...
Geoffrey - first rule of blogging: never mention blogging to real people in the real world.
Gin - hello and I will get my shit together and do the linky thing and be in touch. And yeah, it was pretty funny. Wonder what she's saying about me on her blog...
Anonymous - yeah, I deleted your arse because I don't like anonymous comments. Nothing personal because, like, how could it be?
I'll never get over the rejection- Never. My confidance is totally crushed now.
Ha ha. I wouldn't call what she was doing a tango.
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