The Deep South

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
Dating, OkCupid, Sex, YeeHaw Leave a Comment

It’s official, OkCupid is my new pimp. And it’s working out better than planned. Seeing that I live in a world constructed of my own imaginary rules and restrictions, OkCupid supplies an endless number of potential dates.

YeeHaw is one such date, an actor/comedian born and bred in the South. This date in my mind was more of a challenge, considering myself to be funny it seemed like a good time to put my comical game to the test. And since I’m a creature of habit I asked him to meet me at Patron, the place I had the birthday disaster with Late Night. They honestly have the best margaritas, except for the new twelve-year-old bartender, I probably should have asked for his ID no make sure he could legally serve me.

YeeHaw was late. I hate when people are late. With my delicious strawberry margarita finished it almost seemed as though Patron was the spawn of bad experiences, but as I was preparing to leave the only person in the city without knowledge of my time sensitive obsession appeared.

We laughed, we joked and he told me he’s getting into stand up. YeeHaw was funny, but I can almost guarantee he was making notes on some of my one-liners. If I were to see his act I sense I’d be able to deliver the punchline, having crafted them for him unintentionally. As the night wound down I was ready for Late Night, so I could have my cake and eat it to: great date, great sex. But the sex wasn’t happening as Late Night was busy.

My fuzzy mind went to work and suddenly, YeeHaw and I were those scary people making out in a cab while the driver pretends it isn’t happening. Once at my place, where I was not ready for company seeing as it was like a war zone, this boy got a full taste of my weirdness. For example, I like to go to sleep with horror movies playing on the television. They spur messed up dreams that translate into horrific nightmares, like the other night when I swore someone was pulling my leg and rolled over to see what looked like a woman hovering over the sofa. This boils into creative writing. It’s sick, but it works.

YeeHaw did his best to stay in the mood as some teenagers were getting slaughtered on Netflix, but I was done, the alcohol and sleep deprivation set in and there was no chance of getting anything up. Next thing I knew it was seven in the morning and YeeHaw was making the mistake of waking me up. I ignored him for another hour, waiting until he said he had to leave or be late – that’s when I was ready to fool around. I don’t even like morning sex, but I did like the idea that I could make him think with his penis and choose to be late for what I assume was an important meeting.

What I learned is that the myth about black men having huge penises also applies to white boys from the South. It was like a tree stump fell out of his underwear. This would usually be the moment where I have some sudden excuse to leave, but I broke my rules and brought him home, now I had no choice but to finish what I started. Like getting to the center of a Tootsie Pop, it was one, two, three, done and I was ready for coffee. Fortunately, he did have to go so there was no prolonged or sappy goodbye.

My lesson here is really more of a demand for Late Night. If you’re going to be the fuck buddy then you need to be as on demand as my Netflix, where’s the app for that?

Avril summed it all up with a little help from Marilyn Manson: