National Condom Week

The first Tuesday that I lived in San Diego, I made my way out to PB to see a friend who was working and to get tacos and margaritas. 

 

 

Having lived in the middle of fucking nowhere for a year and a half, I couldn’t believe how many people were out and about on a Tuesday evening.  (It was my first legitimate culture shock being back.)

PB is always nuts.  But on a Friday- on Fridays, PB is a shit show. 

We had a pub crawl for work last Friday in honor of National Condom Week.  We walked around PB, in the prime shit-show hours, and passed out condoms.  I was not disappointed. 

 

“Hey guys, it’s national condom week, we’re handing out free condoms, you want some?”
“No thanks.  I don’t use condoms”
“Well, here’s our business card.  When things get funky, you give us a call.”

“Hey ladies, happy national condom week, do you want some free condoms?”

“no thanks, we’re lesbians.”
“Need a dental dam? STI’s can still be transferred through oral sex”
“yes! Thanks!”

 (Two guys sitting at the bar together)

“You guys want some free condoms?”
guy 1: “No thanks, I’m married.”
“Well what about your friend?”
Guy 1: “no, he just likes it when I stick my finger up his ass hole.”
“Oh, well take some lube, sounds like you’re going to need it.”.

To a table of 5-6 people:
“Hey guys, have some condoms, it’s national condom week.”

“ummm, ok. Thanks?”
“Will it make you feel better about it if I give you an XL?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Here ya go, buddy.  Hope you feel better now.”

 Two guys sitting with their backs to the bar:

“Hey guys, want some condoms? It’s national condom week!”
“Um, we’re not together.”
“Well, I didn’t necessarily mean for the two of you, just in general.”
“He’s lying.  He loves it when I jizz on his face.  He’s a cum guzzling fool.”
And then they continued to make “cum guzzling” motions. 

And my favorite: The last stop of the night, some older lady comes over and tries to grab the condom necklaces from me

“It’s my birthday, and I NEED one of these condom necklaces.”
“Well, here’s the thing, I’m only supposed to give the necklaces to security and bar tenders.  If you want the beads, you’re going to have to do something special for them… like show me your titties.”

And then she pulled them out.

 

It's a Small World After All

I can’t get over how small San Diego is. 

Population of 1.3 million people and a shit ton of people from Mexico and you’d still never believe how small San Diego is. 

Tai and I have been friends for roughly two decades (sweet Jesus, when did we get so old?!)

 

 

Tai was seeing this guy- we’ll call him Washington- for a few months.  She wasn’t into it at first and I, of course, told her not to settle.  But he kept pursuing her (and who doesn’t love to be pursued?!) But legit, every story I heard about this dude, I hated.  There were several times when Tai tried to break it off “I don’t feel like you’re really into it, I’m not that into it.  It’s fine, it was fun, let’s let it go.” But he wouldn’t let it go.  He kept at it.  So she kept going with it.  And then sometime after the new year, when she tried to break it off again, he says to her, “I just don’t want to start anything, I’m about to go underway and I’ll be gone for over a month.”  This was January.  He wasn’t coming home until March.

The day before her birthday, she receives a text from him that said, “Happy birthday tomorrow.  I’m out to sea but barely getting reception.  Hope u get this.” (They hadn't spoken for three weeks!)

 

 

While I was at Salty’s pool match last week (on Tai’s birthday), I sent her a SnapChat (if you’re not friends with me on SnapChat, you’re missing out) of what I was doing. She sent me a text back and told me that Washington plays pool on Tuesdays as well.  I didn’t think much of it, but did note, while talking to one of his teammates all night, that he was also named Washington and had a daughter whose name started with an A.  He seemed kind of…questionable (mostly because I felt uncomfortable with the way he was talking to me in front of Salty)

So this week, Tai and I met for drinks.  Beforehand, we talked a bit about Washington and Salty.  I asked what base Washington was stationed at, she didn’t know but knew he worked in the hospital.  And Salty plays pool with his work friends. 

She gets to dinner (I’m already a margarita in at this point) and she asks for Salty’s last name because she thinks he knows Washington.  I asked what his daughter’s name is (the same as Salty’s teammate) and if he had a sleeve.  When she finally pulled up a picture of him, I confirmed.  Her Washington and Salty’s Washington are the same guy.  He lied.  He’s not on a boat- he’s in San Diego. 

Second largest city in California.

Towards the end of last year, Olivia was dating an old man.  (Ok, he was 37 but he was horrible for her and not very fun… so he was old.) They had been seeing each other for about six months and he was crazy into her (but she definitely wasn’t crazy into him).  And then he all of a sudden got weird and distant.  He stopped responding to text messages and even ignored her attempts to get back the key to her house he had.  One night, about a month later, driving home from the airport (she had missed her flight that morning so she was getting in way later than we had anticipated) we look to our left and there he is, on the 5 North, driving with his two dogs and a girl in the front seat. 

 

 

Eighth largest city in the United States. 

When I lived in Sacramento, I started going to European Wax Center.  I had my first waxer for about 6 months before she moved to Austin, Tx.  I bounced around for a while but never found another one that I liked as much as her…and then I moved to Indiana.  When I moved back to San Diego, I started going again.  I walk in the first day, and, to my surprise, it’s the same person I went to in Sacramento.  The one who moved to Austin. 

 

 

Cue: It’s a small world afterall.    

 

 

The Ex-Radar

I don’t know what type of radar system boys have instilled in their brains that go off when you start talking to someone knew- but they never fail.  NEVER. 

 

 

Tuesday while anxiously waiting for Salty’s plane to land, Cole sent me a text. 

Randomly on Wednesday, Johnny Tsunami hit me up. (I haven’t heard from him in legitimately almost a year.)

Thursday, work boyfriend randomly texted me and asked me if I was busy and what I was doing.

Friday, while getting ready to go out, GQ randomly texted me.  (But we all know that I LOVED this… especially when I found out that he also smokes.  Yes, it is official, ladies and gentleman; I am in love.)

 

 

Saturday morning when I woke up, I had a Valentine ecard from Matt:

 

 

My Kings husband called me on Sunday.

Arrrsssseeeeenioooo sent me a text this morning. 

 

Seriously, boys? Is this real life?

 

Get it, Gurrrrrrrl

Salty came home early on Tuesday, I was ecstatic, couldn’t wait to see him.  It seriously got to the point to where I (we) were counting down the hours until he arrived.

And then he got in an hour late.

So I got to him right as he was getting home; two hours after I was supposed to see him. 

And it was good.  Actually, it was great. 

 

 

We went directly to his pool tournament (holding hands. In his Corvette). I joked with his teammates, was thoroughly impressed with his skills, and felt naked when he was further than arms’ reach from me. (Yes, I just admitted to that.  And no, I don’t know what took over my body or what aliens did with the real Karsen.)

 

 

We went home and joked around.  We cuddled.  We kissed.  We watched and made fun of stupid horror movies.  We stayed up until the wee hours of the morning waiting for the Kings’ highlights to come on.  And then we went to bed. 

And by “went to bed” I mean we had the most amazing sex of my life.  Twice.  And then once more in the morning. 

 

 

True story: I would suggest making a cast out of his penis.  It is borderline perfect.  

 

 Funny reminder:  This time last year I was frightened by black penis.  This year: proclaiming one be casted and enshrined as the perfect penis.

 Funny how things change…

Salty

I don’t know when the Friday night crew at Ale changed, but I’m so glad it did.  It had to have been around late November when Charlii and I took about three weeks off.   The new guys are fun.  And they love us. 

 

 

Pikachu is still around (but isn’t up front with us most nights). Aladdin has quickly jumped to the top of our favorites list.  He’s hilarious… aside from the death stares he gives anytime we’re dancing with another guy.  There’s a little Asian guy who’s actually from Guam and then there’s Salty.

 

 

He’s been one of my favorites since I found him. 

 

And then one night, the Cupid Shuffle comes on and all of a sudden he’s rightbehind me with his hands on my waist.

 

It was one of our back2back weekends and on Saturday, he was there but wasn’t working.  He came up to us (black button up shirt black backwards hat- quite possibly my most favorite boy outfit of all times), kissed my cheek, gave us hugs, and introduced us to his friend.  After a few songs he put his hand on my waist and told me he’d be back later.

 

 

Towards the end of the night, he meanders back over with a margarita in hand.  We talk a bit and I see him fiddling with a chunk of salt on the side of his glass.  And I knew exactly where it was going and all I could think to myself was “Please be sugar. Please be sugar. Please be sugar.” He gets the chunk on his finger and holds it out for me to suck off. It definitely wasn’t sugar.  And it was a LARGE chunk of salt.  So I drank the rest of his margarita.  He invited us to the after party at his house that night, but we lost him and then got over it, so we just went home instead.

He’s been in Sac pretty much since then, so I haven’t seen him, but he gets back on the 13^th.  And we’ve talked all day every day since he’s been gone.