Re: Just whining... feel free to ignore! - part II

x-no-archive: yes

Presumably your sex worker has high testosterone levels since that seems to have a strong correlation with enjoyment of lots of sex. High testosterone means manly qualities, and a reduced ability to multi-task.

Evil Nigel




me myself and monkfish wrote:

I didn't want to hijack Mandy's thread so i thought i'd start a "just
whining" thread all of my own.

I've been emailing an escort since the end of last week about a
meeting today, this afternoon. She was prompt with her reply, saying,
'yes', but asking me to phone either yesterday afternoon or this
morning to confirm the booking, and also to break the ice. Now, i
hate hate hate hate hate HATE using the phone, but the whole point of
this thing is to push my boundaries, and do the things that i either
don't like doing or find very hard. The prospect of sex at the end of
it all is the perfect incentive to get me to do them (and yet in its
own way, the physical intimacy is also another hurdle for me to
surmount). So i made a special effort yesterday afternoon to make the
phonecall. I kind of messed it up, and didn't come away from it
feeling particularly positive about myself. And it didn't help that
she couldn't say whether she would be meeting me in her flat where she
lives some distance from the city centre, or from the apartment close
to the city cente she has just for meeting clients. So she told me i
had to make /another/ phonecall this morning, to finalize the
details. Good grief. Well, once more i made a special effort this
morning and made the call as i was on my way to the bus stop - only
for her to tell me that she had gotten into the apartment that morning
to find it flooded out because of what she described as 'a leak'.
Meeting at the apartment, therefore, was not going to be an option.
She suggested instead, though, we meet in a hotel. I was a trifle
disappointed - i wanted to find out where her apartment was in case i
should decide to book another appointment at a later date, and if i
knew where we would be meeting, that would give me one less thing to
worry about. Then there would just be making the damn phonecall for
me to deal with. But a hotel, i figured, would be better than
nothing, that goes without saying, and i was still definitely up for
it - and really looking forward to it, in fact, and had been ever
since she replied so promptly to my initial email. OK, she said, when
she had a hotel room sorted out, she would send me a text so i could
phone her back and we could finalize our plans for sure this time.
Argh - another phonecall. We talked about when would be the best time
for us to talk next. We agreed sometime between 12:30 and 13:30. As
it got to be time, i went off to find a nice quite place to make the
call without too much background noise distracting me (that's one of
the things my asperger's makes so difficult, filtering out useless
information, and just one of many reasons why i hate hate hate hate
hate hate HATE using the phone). If you've got this far, you might be
wondering what happens next. Well, i'll tell you. And if you
couldn't give a toss, i'm still going to tell you. Nothing happened.
12:30 came and went with no text. 13:30 came and went. Still no
text. I wasn't worried - it occurred to me that most hotels don't let
you check in until 14:00, and i really didn't expect her to check in
at two o'clock on the dot, run up the stairs and text me straight
away. I'm not an idiot. I figured i'd wait a bit longer. Two thirty
came and went. No text. Three o'clock came and went. Guess what -
no text. Now, the time we'd arranged to meet was around 16:00, so i
figured she was waiting until just before then to get in touch and i
could go straight to the hotel after hanging up the phone. Three
thirty came and went. Still nothing. Then it was four o'clock. Four
fifteen. By that point i'd had enough - i'd been hanging around in
various parks, and walls and benches and wandering aimlessly round the
shops for over four hours by this point. Waiting. Waiting and
waiting and checking the reception on my phone and waiting and waiting
and waiting,. I'd had enough. I called her. *** - no answer. Now
what? I waited a few minutes and tried again. She picked up after
the first ring. She'd been dealing with the plumber all day, and
wasn't going to be able to make our appointment. She had, by all
accounts, been so 'busy' with him (i really don't know if that was a
euphemism or not, plumbers can cost an arm and a leg, or, i suppose if
one is that way inclined, a hand-job and a leg-over), she hadn't had
five minutes to spare to pick up the phone to let me know, like, four
hours ago, she wasn't going to be able to get there so i could make
other plans. There was a film, for example, that i wanted to see at
the pictures. Had i known, had she texted me like she said she was
going to, i could've seen that instead of hanging around and walking
round and round and round and round in circles losing my sodding
mind. Anyway, she just said, "Sorry" and hung up, just like that. No
"Another time, perhaps?". No, "Take care, sweetie". Just a dial
tone, leaving me utterly dumbfounded - and more than a little
disappointed.

I'm trying not to have a depressive reaction to this - but the thought
has occurred to me that i can't even pay for sex.

Shoot - i can't even pay someone who has sex for money to have sex
with me for money, FFS.

But in amongst it all the hurt feelings there is also rejection,
disappointment, irritation, dejection, and sheer, unadulterated,
what'sthefuckinguseoftryingwhenyou'reasuselessasme-ment.

Anyway, the point of the story is this. I was out in the strong sun
so long waiting for her to text, i think i've got sun stroke.

I may be wrong with my diagnosis, but i certainly have all the
symptoms - my head is all hurty : (

That's what i wanted to whine about, but i thought i'd better explain
why i was out in the sun for so long to get sun-stroke in the first
place.


monkfish - disappointed and with a hurty head : (

.

Loading