IQ Points Dropping Like Flies

I swear, sometimes, I really do believe that I make men stupid.  Let me explain why.

Mr. 7am, my early morning booty call guy, has evolved into more.  His work schedule changed and now he works until 11:00 pm, but to me he will always be Mr. 7am because he does love his morning sex.  He will never be a real boyfriend to me, mainly because we have nothing in common other than sex, but also because I can’t be in a relationship with someone I only see right before bed and right before I have to go to work.  He hasn’t gotten that memo yet, because I haven’t told him, so he seems to think our relationship is going in a different direction.  I know this is wrong, and I do plan on telling him as soon as the time is right.

What had happened was…

Mr. 7am came over one night after work.  Since he no longer had to immediately crawl into bed with me at the crack of dawn, he thought we now could have time to sit and talk before heading to the bedroom.  This was unexpected and somewhat disappointing.  I was enjoying my early morning sex sessions.  We fuck, I get up for work, and he leaves.  Not anymore.

i-love-youSo we’re sitting in the living room talking, drinking, smoking, and I realize that he’s a really nice and funny guy, but he’s just not that sharp.  That’s ok.  I’ve dealt with guys like this before.  As long as it’s just about sex, then it will be fine.

It got late and I knew that I needed to get to bed because I had to work the next day.  He led me into the bedroom and we had sex.  Not as many times as the first time, but three times.  During the second time, he pauses mid-stroke and says, “Damn Ginger, I love you girl.”

Excuse me.  What?

He said it again, “I just love my Ginger.”

No! Not again, and not in bed, and especially not during sex.

So that was a week ago.  He was supposed to come over after work last Tuesday night, but he never showed up.  He never even called or text me to let me know he wasn’t coming.  Late the next morning I finally received a text from him.  He said that he had to work over.  I coldly replied, “Ok. A text letting me know would have been nice.”  He said he was sorry and asked how work was, so I just told him it was busy.

At 6:30 pm I received another text from him asking what I was doing.  I didn’t reply.  Then another text asking, “Omg babe r u mad at me?”  I was, a little, but I told him I was at the bar with DC & Bacchus.  He asked if he could see me that night and I told him I was going to crash early.  After several texts back and forth, him asking to see me, me putting him off, he finally asked if I needed a ride home.  Shit.  He got off work early and was headed to the bar.

So after some awkward conversation with Mr. 7am, DC, and Bacchus, we decided to leave.  I think DC & Bacchus liked Mr. 7am…I know DC thinks he’s cute, but they know he’s not exactly a rocket scientist.  However, he’s nice and sweet…and evidently afraid of losing me and a tad jealous.  So we called it a night and went back to my place.

Friday night I blew him off to go hang out with Bacchus and some other friends.  I felt guilty about it Saturday so I told him he could come over that night after work.  It was nice having a little more time to spend with him.  I didn’t have to get up early for work, so we stayed up for a while talking before heading to bed.

And…he said it again.  In the living room.  Sober.  I’m screwed.

Or so I thought.  After mulling it over today I decided that, why shouldn’t I give him a chance?  He’s not a bad guy.  He’s not married, he has a job, he makes me laugh, he’s nice and considerate, and he is excellent in bed.  So I think I’m going to do it.  Because even if once I get to know him better, I decide that he definitely is not the one for me, at least I’ll know I gave him an honest chance.

My main fear, as brought forth in a nightmare I had last night, is that I become pregnant by some freak cruel miracle from God, and the baby is cute, but stupid.  I swear I woke up in a cold sweat and gasping for breath after that one.

So I think I was wrong.  It’s not the guy’s IQ points that drop.  It’s mine.  😉

Happy humping geniuses!

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4 thoughts on “IQ Points Dropping Like Flies

  1. Pingback: Dear Mom, please stop praying for me. | Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

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  3. Pingback: Taking out the trash | Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

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