just a sunday night

Tonight I had to meet one of my best friends boyfriend for the first time. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as meeting her previous love interests, so I at least had that going for me. They’ve only been together for 3 weeks, already live together and have been talking about getting married and having a kid by New Years.. Or I guess getting married and having the kid started by New Years. Started cooking in that vagina oven. Or something.

I’m not quite sure what to think of it all, they say lesbians move fast and here I am still trying to weave my way through if we should get married or not after 3 years.

Anyways. The last man she had me meet was named Normand. He was about 4 inches shorter than me, which is impressive considering I’m 5’4”. He wore tight boy jeans, with pre-ripped holes all down the front of them and bedazzled crosses on the back butt pockets. His light plaid shirt was tucked in and a slightly over-sized belt buckle held on tightly to his black leather belt.

We spent most of the night listening to him talk about how expensive his clothes were, and how much he enjoyed going to the strip club. I’m not really sure if he heard much of what we had to say to him. Which is probably for the best, I told him he had bad hair.

I had them meet us at our favorite local restaurant tonight. After dinner and a few drinks each we came back to my house and sat out on our porch. She kept the sex talk to a minimum, so thankfully my neighbors didn’t have to hear about.

I noticed the absence of Kh after a while, and we all decided to call it a night. I found her passed out in the bed, she came out to say her goodbyes, then shortly after passed out back in bed with her shoes and glasses on. I don’t think she could hang tonight.

I made a hot dog and started watching The Wild and Wonderful Whites while, of course, drinking a beer.

I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow. 

Thank all that is good that summer is over with. 

xo

at least it's not monday anymore, or my awkward moment of the week

My least favorite, and by far the most awkward part of my job, is the client consultations. It’s one of those necessary evils. If I want new clients, I have to make time to meet said new clients.

And meeting said clients takes place in their homes, with just me and them in attendance. Kh refuses to go with me, I can't blame her. These things suck. I thankfully have only had one instance where I felt incredibly uncomfortable.  For the most part, I just see a lot of dirty houses, clutter, or meticulously cleaned apartments.

Last night I had my first crotch shot.

Ok let me back track. I scheduled a client consultation for 6:30pm. I spent the better half of my afternoon with the time 5:30 stuck in my head, boy was I heart broken when I realized I can’t keep track of shit and I was way off.

We had a heavy downpour just as I’m walking out to my car. I get in, look at my directions once more and then drive off. All the while sheets of rain are pouring down on my windshield, the wet spots on my jeans are now cold in the warm air from my car.

I arrive just outside the woman’s apartment 20 minutes early. I call my mom and chat with her about absolutely nothing until I can head inside.

I ring the doorbell and hear footsteps coming down the entryway staircase. A tall, slender woman in her mid-30’s greets me. She’s wearing a red dress that’s tight on top, flowy on the bottom and a belt that can’t seem to get tight enough around her tiny waist. She’s wearing sandal wedges, which helps her be at least 5” taller than me.

I greet her politely and shake her hand. She heads up the stairs first, thankfully. I hate it when I have to navigate my way to a place I’ve never been before.

We go on a hunt to find both of the cats. One of them is lying in her room on her blindingly white bed. I have to step over piles of clothes and shoes to get to the cats. I wasn’t prepared for an obstacle course. We stand there awkwardly chatting, me trying to ignore the giant mosquito netting she has hanging above her bed, until I finally push the meeting along and ask to see the rest of their stuff.

Fast forward to us in the kitchen. She drops the bomb that I need to visit twice a day and one of the cats needs medication. It’s always something, and people don’t like to tell you beforehand.

I have a lot of experience administrating medications to pets, but she decides to show me how the cat takes his pill. She puts the pill inside a ‘pill shooter’ and kneels down to try and coax him over.

So here’s the mental image. The tall sinewy woman in her flowy red dress, kneeling, no, squatting, with her butt touching the backs of her heels. Her legs are close together as she continues to try and talk this cat into coming closer to her.

The next several of minutes go down like this.

The cat slowly starts to saunter over to her, all the while her legs spread farther apart. Soon she has the cat facing me between her legs, with her legs wide open. The red flowy dress is not helping her in this situation, as it’s caught on her knees.

The cats face is directly blocking my view of her crotch. I don’t think she has underwear on.

My first instinct is to stand up and start looking at something else.

My second instinct is to see if she actually has underwear on.

I go with my second instinct. I shift my focus back and am completely relieved to see she has peach colored underwear on. Ok, slightly less awkward.

I stand up and try to make talking to her as painless as possible. I try to make sure my expression doesn’t convey “Ok lady I just saw your pantie crotch shot.”

She shows me how to use a set of keys, and I make a b-line for the door.

The monthly award for most awkward client consultation goes to this one.

xo