Humpin’

Tuesday is my Friday (at least as far as work is concerned), so by the time 11pm rolls around I am definitely ready for some R&R…if only it were that easy…

This Tuesday evening I returned home to find my neighbor, whom I have nicknamed “Next-Door-Nasty” or “Nasty” for short, laying on top of her latest foreign traveler de jour in the entryway to my building. At first I wasn’t sure if it was her. There are a few new people in the building who didn’t seem to get the memo about this being a quiet building, one for introverts who read books late into the night and chain smoke cigarettes. These people have dinner parties, bond fires in the backyard and have a constant train of people in and out. So, needless to say, I wasn’t expecting to know the people, well, humpin’, in my entry way. 

I slammed the mailbox shut hoping to shame them into stopping, but looked in just in time confirm it was indeed Nasty who was now straddling her gentleman caller as he was pulling her hair…gross… 

With a little time to kill, I borrowed a cigarette from a bum who had set up camp in a doorway nearby and tried to get out of ear shot of the moaning/giggle fest happening inside.  While I smoked, I attempted to text my roommate to see if she would open the door or do something to get them to stop…I didn’t want to be out here all night! But, she wasn’t home and with no one else to share my news with, I texted the neighborhood watchdog who is familiar with Nasty’s shenanigans.   

Finally, they “finished” and I waited until I saw them turn on a light in her apartment before heading inside.  Then, and only then, did I tip toe in and past the site of the Tuesday night free sex show and into the comforts of my own apartment across the hall from hers. 

The next few days, the news traveled fast…all of neighbors wanted to know the details.  “Why didn’t you watch?” asked the middle aged man in my building.  “Ah, because she’s nasty,” I replied. “Why don’t you tell the building manager?” asked another. Yeah, what’s he gonna say, “Would you please stop humpin’ random smelly tourists in the building’s public spaces”?  He gets uncomfortable when he has to come over to change a light bulb…So, I did the only thing I could do -  I grabbed a couple of pamphlets on Sex Addiction from my local community clinic and slid them under her door.  But really, when it comes down to it, sex addiction is really only a label they give to men, for women, they just call it awesome.   

F*#% Cupid

At the urging of some of my friends, I decided to create an online dating profile with the site OkCupid.  A few of them had found relationships, even husbands, using the site for “urban hipsters.”  While I consider myself to be neither of those things, I figured it was worth a shot and posted a few basics about myself, as well as,  a picture one of my friends labeled as “San Diego beach bimbo.”  Well, in the year and a half I have had the account, I received a number of inquiries, none of which being in my “desired age range” or even geographic area.  Sorry, I’m just not into having a long distance relationship with someone’s grandpa in Maine…

So, I’ve been cruising along, perusing the goods and ignoring the advances of those gentlemen whose profiles sound like shrines to a god (eyeroll) or anyone who appears to have the tendencies of the Unibomber or Jim Jones…But what happened yesterday, as they say “takes the cake.”

Having weeded out the “don’t, won’t and never’s,” I finally decided to take a chance and send a message to someone I thought looked cute and whose profile had me giggling with glee.  The next day, I opened up my email and was excited to see onlinecutie had written back and went immediately to site to retrieve the first and only message in my inbox.  The following is what it said:

           

            “My dad always told me to fuck blondes and marry a brunette…wanna? ;)”

Yeah, I’m serious…So, I clicked on the little button for “Account settings” and then “Delete Account.”  When a little screen popped up, “Are you sure you want to delete your account?” “Yeah,” I thought, “I’m sure…f*(# cupid.” …

Origins

I recently returned from a lovely holiday in the MW to find that I am having a hard time switching gears back into my city life.  The other night I was getting ready to meet some friends for dinner when I found myself unable to change out of my father’s old, worn-in flannel shirt.  Running late, per usual, I threw on some red lipstick and headed out the door.  When I met my friends they didn’t say anything about the shirt, but their looks said it all… “What?” I said, “I’m wearing lipstick.”  Thus, my new blog “Lipstick and Flannel” was born… 

L&F will continue to highlight my adventures and general shenanigans, but this time, back at in San Francisco.  Hope you’ll join me as I dive into the world of online dating, corporate life and the last year of my twenties…this is gonna be good!