Like flight attendants? Here’s another dating post for menrule.net.
Here is another dating tale for the site menrule.net. I always wondered what it would be like to be Hank Moody. Over the past few months I feel like I have gotten fairly close to what that fictional character’s life may have been like. I’m nowhere near as well-known but I sure do find certain similarities between us. Anyways click HERE for the first part of a two part series about my run-in(s) with a flight attendant. As always, either click HERE (to show some traffic love to these guys) or read the story below:
My First Flight Attendant: Part One
As I rummage through my online dating experiences I begin feeling something like Hank Moody. Though I’m nowhere near as successful, I sure have the pompous attitude and stories with ladies to sell. Over the last few months I have gone on some interesting dates. Not all of these dates led to a night of crazy sex. In fact, around 40% of them turned out to simply be fun nights out on the town with women I would have never met if it weren’t for the internet(a success story about this in the near future).
The majority of these women I have met are only in town for a few days at a bachelorette party, a friend’s birthday, or they have some work here in Nashville. One gal in particular, I’ll call her Jackie Kennedy, started out as a close call and turned into a regular thing.
“Hi there”, I send to the cute blonde girl. Her profile reads only ‘Sriracha on everything’.
“hi handsome”, she replies.
This is a good start. Any time a woman addresses you as handsome, hot-stuff, stud, gorgeous, or anything in between means your foot is already in the door. All you have to do now is just not fuck it up.
Jackie dresses eclectic. A couple of her photos were taken in what looks to be a thrift store and a few others are of her holding the prized sriracha bottle. She looks short and I am very okay with that.
“if you could put sriracha on anything, what would it be?” she asks.
“Your skin”, I reply.
Hell, that sounds like something directly out of some new age rape/murder movie. I will later find out why my reply did not creep her out. Even through my darkness she continues to talk to me.
“You’re seven-hundred miles away now?”
“i’m a flight attendant”, she replies, “i will be back in nashville in six days”
“We should get together. Here’s my number: 772-***-****.”
Not even a minute passes and a message from a number out of Minnesota comes up on my phone. She knows I’m a writer so the first thing the message says is something about how she doesn’t capitalize her letters via texting. Hell, I don’t give a damn about this. Especially when she starts flirting heavily with me–sending me in-flight selfies and pictures of her lying in her hotel room somewhere in Canada. I send her my sunny-day-coffee-shop pictures as well as some pictures of my dog. I am not a selfie type of guy(this will change in the success story I mentioned earlier).
I find out she flies into Nashville regularly on the small airline she works for. So, there is a woman who regularly flies into my city at irregular intervals and I am the person she wants to see? And, I’m slowly winning her over with every witty thing I say? I think you can see where this will be going.
We continue to talk and get as close as two people can who haven’t met each other. Our attraction is growing from curiosity to excitement now that she is only a day away from arriving here. I frantically begin cleaning up the apartment. I’m sweeping and mopping the floors, scrubbing the tub, and detailing my bedroom.
I’m bathing my dog, Jolene (baby J as Jackie calls her), when I get a text from her. It’s her telling me she is on her last leg of the journey before we see each other. Attached to it is another in-flight selfie of her wearing a pearly smile and a blue scarf. I won’t lie, I am goddamn excited to see this tiny blonde girl. While my dog runs around the apartment and rubs her post-bath face on my clean sheets I light incense in every room in the house to cover up the weird dog smell.
As I sit in my room I watch the incense ash drop into a wooden tray like watching sand fall into the bottom half of an hourglass. While my dog is snorting and still rubbing her face I realize that this is the first time I have ever had a woman I have never met come over to my place. It’s almost intimidating. I lose track of time while in thought and the sound of a text alert snaps me back to reality.
“how do I know you’re not going to murder me?”, she asks. She has just landed at BNA.
“I guess you won’t know that until you get here”, I figure I shouldn’t end there, “How do I know you won’t cut my parts off?”
“that’s not what I was thinking of doing to them…”
‘HURRY’ is the first thing that comes to mind after I read that. She reminds me that she can’t get to me if she doesn’t have my address.
“i’m going to change and get a car. see you in 45 minutes.”
In no time I go from a lounging day-dreamer to a pacing lunatic. The creaks and groans of the wooden floors are repetitive and probably drive my downstairs neighbors crazy. If they think they’re hearing creaks and groans now wait until that little, cute blonde shows up. Jolene is watching me with a tad bit of worry as I add mumbling to myself to the mix. Once again, a text alert snaps me out of my stupor.
“there’s a little, cute blonde girl waiting for you downstairs.”
I shove my tiny dog away from the front door with my foot and glance down my steel stairway to see her with her bags on the ground. I try to look like I’m not rushing down the stairs but have a feeling it is not believable. She runs up to me and we have a moment. So much so that she lifts one of her legs while we’re mid-kiss. I pick up her bags and tell her to follow me up the stairs.
“I have to leave for the airport at five in the morning.”
“Then we better make the best of these nine hours”, I say as I hold the door open for her, “When will you be back?”
“In one week…I think.”
She lets out a yelp. Not a frightened one but the kind that comes out when a girl sees something she really likes. What she sees is Jolene. Not that I needed her help but my dog sure helps seal the deal. Plus, when a woman likes my dog that much there is an instant attraction. We don’t waste any time-straight to my bedroom we go. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her take her boots off. When they’re off, she looks up to catch me looking at her. She crawls on top of me. When I take her dress off I notice a tattoo of the sriracha rooster on her hip. She notices me checking it out.
“Coincidental, eh? That’s why it didn’t weird me out when ‘skin’ was your answer.”
(to be continued)