Crazy shit in my head

February 20, 2009 at 7:19 am (in my head, On dating and mating)

About 6 years ago, my friend the Pigskin Attorney dated this bartender Mike. (Yeah, I’m not even going to change his name.) Very early on in their…whatever it was…she decided to do a drive by. She went to his place of work, dressed as if she’d been lounging around in a tank with no bra and boyshorts and just threw on jeans (this look works on Pigskin Attorney – it DOES NOT work on me). She said hello, kissed him, said good night and went on her way. It ensured he’d be thinking about her, but she didn’t stick around to take up his time.

I want to try this technique, but my version would be a bit different. See sometimes my hair is so soft, someone needs to touch it. Someone other than me. Someone with broad shoulders and external genitalia. Someone who couldn’t just reach up and play with their own silky hair. Because that’s what I bring to the table – good hair. I’m kidding…I think.

I bring up the hair drive by often, but no one seems to have picked up on the fact that I’m serious. I kind of want to go by a guy’s place, cuddle for a bit, get him playing with my hair, then head home to where I have a fabulous queen bed to myself. Now that I type that out, it sounds less like a hair tease and just kind of like a tease. But it worked in my head, I swear.

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4 Comments

  1. amber said,

    Hmm. I have good hair, too, and on Friday night I met this guy and we kissed a little bit (which I usually don’t do before the first date, but there you have it – my morals and on a downslide rightalong side my age) and he was running his fingers through my hair and there is NO REASON you shouldn’t indulge this little fantasy. Fun for all, right?

  2. BS said,

    Ooh, that sounds nice! I think I’ll work on mimicking your Friday night this weekend.

  3. peterdewolf said,

    I always wondered if I annoyed women by doing the hair playing thing.

    I didn’t wonder enough to actually ask. Or stop.

  4. BS said,

    One ex used to rub/scratch my head the way you would a dog – curling and uncurling his fingers over and over until he made a big knotty mess. That was annoying. But most of you people (and by that of course I mean Canadians) intuitively get it.

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