Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Promiscuous Amnesia

Alias used below: "Don" is a guy a dated for a couple years, was in the Army, from/lives in the Midwest.

A couple weeks ago I was watching the Mets play the Phillies with my husband. I always have the same memory when I see the Mets - about the one time I stood on the field while the first pitch was thrown, walked through the hallway by the lockerroom, past all the ridiculously tall baseball players (seriously, they're taller than they look), and then proceeded to get drunk in the [Famous Car Maker] club box for the night. It's one of my only claims to fame, lol.

Anyway, I think I said to him, I know I told you about that time I stood on the field for the first pitch… and he was like, um, no, you didn't. So then I told him. Then he was like, is this the time you got to be in the club box? Yes. So he was like, all, 15 year old girl-like, "Was this with your rich ex Don?" BAHAHA. Am I the only one who finds that funny? A - Don was not rich, nor should anything I ever would have said about him lead my husband to believe that he was, so I have no idea where that came from. B - Why did he pick Don of all my exes? I think he has this weird idea of Don that is just so inaccurate it's comical. C - Um, Don did not live anywhere near NYC/NJ. So after I burst out laughing in his face, I said no, not Don. Then I told him that I didn't remember the guy's name. Then he was like, "Whatever, obviously you remember his name." He didn't believe me, but it's totally true. His name was Bagel Boy. All I remember is that's what I called him, that's what he was in my phone as, that's what all my friends called him. He worked at a bagel shop right next to a place I worked one summer, and I met him there. We dated for a few months, nothing major. Great sex, though, if I recall. He ended up SUPER falling for me, and I was over it and broke his heart. Meh.

I do remember we went to some fun places while we dated. Namely that Mets game and the US Open - TWICE. Once in the nosebleeds, once in the [Famous Car Maker] box. Oh, right, the story is that his best friend's dad was a higher up at [Famous Car Maker] so we got to go in these boxes and get drunk and also watch said best friend's dad throw out the first pitch at the Mets game. The end.

So it's true, I really don't remember the guy's name. I *think* it may have been Ryan, after thinking about it for a while, but I'm only like 60% on that. I couldn't tell you his last name if my life depended on it, that's for sure.

Everybody's got that one guy they dated or at least slept with they can't remember their name, right? Surely it's not just me… but it sure makes me feel slutty thinking about the others I can't remember names for. Only the aliases that I gave them.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Dipping the Pen in the Company Ink

My first year with the company I work for now was… special. I started in August 2007 and wasn't here a month before I'd started sleeping with one of the attorneys. He had also just started, so it was like we were both newbies together, I wasn't like sleeping with an old man partner or anything. This continued for a few months on and off, and that's all it ever was. He was a great guy, but I never wanted to date him or anything. I think the major problem with me and my first year with the firm was that I wasn't used to so much money being tossed around. We had lots and lots of events where both the food and the booze were free and decadent. The economy has made it so that these things aren't around as much anymore (but still around), but that's probably a good thing since I may be lying dead in a ditch somewhere right now had it not. So, in short - I got drunk, a lot, and like DRUNK drunk, not just a little drunk. Like, I-don't-remember-a-lot-and-made-out-with-some-people-I-probably-shouldn't-have drunk.

Today I had a memory of the holiday party from my first year with my firm. Let's just say it doesn't make me proud and it kind of makes me cringe. I was trying to impress the new class of attorneys that had started a few months before, and they bet me to go dance with a partner at my firm. He was bustin' a move on the dance floor, and a cute old man, so I was like, sure! So… what happened was by the time I mustered up the courage (read: had a few more glasses of wine) to go out on the dance floor, the music had stopped. So I was standing there, and for some reason I was like, "I know the music stopped, but will you dance with me for a minute?" He did, and then the next day was telling another attorney friend of mine about this girl who randomly asked him to dance when the music had stopped. Luckily, I had already told attorney friend of mine that it was due to a bet, so he relayed that to him and partner's response was, "Well why didn't she say so!" So he was cool with it. It was embarassing, and partner now knows who I am and every now and then will bring it up, but at least he wasn't some asshole who was going to fire me for being wasted. That's not the worst part. No… after the swank holiday party there was an unofficial happy hour at a bar downtown. First mistake - I apparently was all over "attorney I was sleeping with" in front of others. Yeah, um, that was supposed to be a secret… and I apparently kept trying to get him to take me home. Next thing I know I have a vague flash of making out with someone in the bathroom. I know not if it was the men's or women's, but I do know that it was this gorgeous black paralegal from my work. I have NO idea how I went from hanging out with "attorney I was sleeping with" to making out… and possibly more… in the bathroom. I can't say for certain, but let's just say I'm pretty sure I have no recollection of having sex with my first black man. In a bathroom. In a bar. Don't worry, it was a nice bar; a bar/restaurant. It actually was a bar I used to frequent for happy hour at my last job. I also lost my keys that night, and have a sneaking suspicion they were in whatever bathroom we may or may not have had sex in, and when I called they were like nope, no keys here. I think they lied. It took me at least a year before I would show my face there again…

When this paralegal worked here he had a best work friend who was like 3 feet shorter than him (he was like 7 ft tall), and white and had creepy eyes. Paralegal has long since gone, but his best work friend is still here. At some point my desk was moved to his floor and for the first few months I got the creepiest, smirkiest, knowing looks from him. He finally spoke to me one day and was like, "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Mike." No, I don't remember, because I obviously must've been hanging out with paralegal and his friends prior to our rendevous in the loo. Fuck. But I was like, "Oh yeah…" Then he befriended me on facebook and I realized he went to college with my then roommate. Double fuck. I have to see this guy every day still, but finally he's gotten less creepy and I realized he's not going to go around telling people about my bathroom escapade (or else he probably already did and it's such old news that it doesn't matter anymore).

And then today, gorgeous black paralegal sent me a connection request on LinkedIn. He "hopes I'm doing well". Lol.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Slutty Jobs

I read this great post today on slut jobs, and it made me laugh and, well, nod my head in agreement an awful lot to be honest. Because while I can think of a couple of my friends who DIDN'T have a "respectable slut job", I can also think of several, along with myself, who did.

Not gonna lie, I loved whoring myself out for money. Not in the sense of being a prostitute or a stripper. No, no. Just a waitress. I wore the shortest shorts I could find and flirted with dirty old men as I brought them their food and convinced them they needed a few more drinks. Why? Because They were going to give me money! I started off as a small time waitress at an IHOP - where you had to wear a white button down shirt, long black pants, and a tie. But, just as the post above brings up, my shirt was probably a little too tight… and I may or may not have worn a hot pink bra, of the push up variety, most of the time. My roommate in college eventually got me in on the sweetest waitressing gig of all time. We worked at this steak and seafood restaurant that had an outdoor deck that overlooked a bridge and the Hudson River. You have no idea how busy this place could get in the summer. IT WAS AWESOME. No, I didn't stroll into work every day with a happy go lucky attitude. But I worked doubles, picked up shifts, BEGGED for my section to be downstairs on the deck on hot summer nights (where the big $$ was), closed, opened, whatever it took. Because the money was there. I look back fondly on those days, and don't regret it a bit. Waitresses there made BANK. And we got to drink (and smoke) on the back deck after work. I didn't really keep track of how much I made, but wish I did now. I wonder if it's more than I make now?? Ha, probably not, but it sure felt good walking out with cash in hand after a busy summer night. Ah, those were the days…

Another slutty job I had was lifeguarding. Yeah, she totally missed that one on the list. Come on, you're in the tightest bathing suit possible, with men and boys oggling you aaaaaall day long. You don't get tips, but you get numbers, let me tell you that. You know that "summer fling" feeling when you meet someone over the summer and you get all butterfly-y and everything's so exciting and passionate? That happened to me a lot. Like 30 times. Ok, ok, 10's probably a better estimate. If it was 30 I'd definitely deserve the slut tag. I guess there's something about being a (hot, young, skinny - curse you old self!) lifeguard that gets guys all hot and bothered. There's also something so wrong about hooking up with someone in a pool office, club house, pool itself, that's just so… hot.

Would I run around in short shorts for tips or in a skintight bathing suit for guys these days? I'd like to say no, but well… um… if I had the body for either, I would. Oh, and for the second one I guess that would have to be if I wasn't married as well.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Well, Well, Well...

What have we here? I got the bright idea recently to start an anonymous blog (one that my mom, husband, and in-laws don't read).

Why ? Because I randomly remember a funny hookup story or want to write something vulgar on my other blog and I can't really post either on there. I don't want my mom and in-laws (and a lot of other people) to know my funny sex stories. Also, my husband gets jealous. I wish I could be like "Oh man, I just randomly remembered that time I had sex in every building on campus! That was fun." and he'd be cool with it, but... he's not. And... you are.

That being said - if I sent this blog to you it means I trust you completely. It doesn't necessarily mean I don't trust others completely, but some people have this problem where they tell their significant others EVERYTHING and maybe I don't trust their significant others not to blurt something out to mine in a drunken moment. So, I hope you feel honored. This is like our own little secret fort... and, hey, if any of you want to share a funny story you just let me know and we'll make it happen.

ALL that being said - I'd now like for you to take an oath of silence for me. Promise me you will never retell my stories in a malevolent way. I.E. defamation of any sort. Like, to my mom, husband, or in-laws. My followers and comments are hidden (you can still comment, but only I will see it). It's to protect us all. If you can't handle taking this oath, let me know now and I'll be glad to take you off. Not jerk you off, take you off.

AAAnd it begins...

What's with the name?  It randomly came to me last night out of nowhere. FSNW also is so close to NSFW it's perfect. And some of the content may not be safe for work. I have a dirty mind and a dirty past, but I'm not vulgar, so we'll see how that goes. Also, I wouldn't go so far as to actually call myself a slut, but I may have had slutty tendencies once upon a time. Also, "Free Spirited, Sex Loving, Make Out Whore" didn't fit as well.

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The first story is a quick one. Just like when it actually happened (bah-dum-ch). Since I already mentioned it, we'll go with the one where I had sex with my ex in every public building on campus. I "dated" (we'll use that term verrrry loosely) this guy my freshman year in college. Basically all that meant was we had sex every night and never went anywhere together in public. We, uh, "broke up" for summer break, and I got a boyfriend in the process, so our nightly sexing ended. Somehow we ended up having sex every year we were at school, though. You know, random ex sex. It was fun. In our last semester of senior year we decided (pretty sure it was his idea) we were going to have sex in every public building on campus. I am also pretty sure he thought I'd be too scared to do it, but I showed him! Also, worth noting, I was TRYING to date this other guy at the time, but we weren't official yet and I had no idea where it was going at that point, so I was like, shit, what the hell - this'll be a story to tell my grandkids someday! Or not. Just you guys. So, yes, we were successful. I think all in all it took about 2 months to get all our conjugal visits in. First stop was the classroom we met freshman year. Right on the desk. There were a few bathrooms and classrooms here and there along the way, but I don't remember all the sexy details now. The only other part that sticks out is the time we did in the library. During finals. Meaning there were like 800 people in the library, and it was SILENT. We were looking for a random empty aisle of books to do it in, but ended up doing it on the steps leading up to the roof. And thennnn as I was nonchalantly walking away and back to my studies, I noticed I had a little... something... on my jeans. Not sure if anyone else saw, but we almost got kicked out because we were laughing so hard. Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure I got some funny looks in the bathroom as I was trying to clean it off...

Funny side story - he recently defriended me on facebook. WTF?! You better believe I sent him a message asking just that. No response. I'm thinking his girlfriend was all, "You have to defiend anyone you had sex with in campus buildings." and I made the short list.