This asshole I was dating told me I had fat thighs. I was willing to let that go, but it was sort of the last straw. He also lived on his friends couch for the last year, borrowed money he never paid back, had stank breath, and a hella small peen that he would jackhammer me with for like an hour at a time. His idea of romance was to take my hand, knock me in the face with it, while saying, “Stop hitting yourself.” All that added up to a big 'no thank you.' Of course he found someone else pretty quickly, while I entered what you would call a dry spell. Life was pretty lonely, that is, until Tommy showed up. That’s what I call him, even though the Megan’s Law website says his name is Victor. Tommy only sees my best side through his perch on the dumpster outside my apartment. Through the cracks in my vertical blinds, by the light of digital clock, my thighs look voluptuous, alluring, enticing. Unlike some assholes that won’t even risk paying for dinner, he risks his freedom, every night as a thrice convicted, sex offender by jerking it outside my window. The rhythmic tapping sound of his hand hitting the window lulls me to sleep and lets me know I’m attractive and wanted. It really lifts a girl’s self esteem.
He even likes it best when I wear my comfy sweats. He says it’s more authentic. At least that’s what I think he was mouthing to me through the window. We haven’t had what you would call an actual conversation yet. Just so you know, I’m not that naïve. I know that we probably won’t work out. That bitch next door has already called the cops twice. She’s a real crotchblocker with her advice to “find a guy that’s not a criminal” and “once a sex offender always a sex offender”. She doesn’t understand me and Tommy. Plus, I have never unlatched the lock on the window, even though Tommy makes that unlocking motion practically every night. I’m just not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment again. I sort of like things the way they are. I have the best of both worlds. I have a super cute guy who thinks I’m totally hot and I don’t have to deal with his crazy ex-girlfriends, crabs, or putting his dog to sleep for him. Life is pretty great!
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