Next up is Delores Warren-Dee, if you want to stay on her good side. “Emo” doesn’t exist in my vocabulary, but YOLO should’ve been my middle name. I have a great life-a good career that lets me enjoy the best man-toys on the market, awesome friends, a weird but loving family. Secondly, I’m a real glass-half-full kind of person. Right? I’m having a blast with all the Ms. And someday, I imagine myself settling down-marriage, kids, the whole deal.īut while I’m looking for Mrs. I have no problem hanging out with the same woman on multiple occasions, as long as the good times keep rolling. I’m also not opposed to seeing someone from the office-though most of the girls in my line of work are stressed out, chain smoking, coffee-obsessed women with an unpleasant chip on their shoulders. I, on the other hand, don’t care where I get laid-my place, her place, the observation deck of the Empire State Building. He’s got all these rules about never bringing a chick to his apartment, never dating someone he works with, and the Cardinal Rule: Never hook up with the same woman twice. At this point in our tale, he sees himself as a bachelor for life. Although Drew and I are tight, we differ in our opinions about women. If we were the Rat Pack, he’d be Frank Sinatra, I’d be Dean Martin. First off-Drew’s a great guy, a true best friend. It’s all the wild stuff that happens along the way.īefore we start, there’s some background info you may need to know. Because the greatest part of a road trip isn’t arriving at your destination. So stick around, even if you think you already know the ending. But the thing is, while he and Kate were figuring their shit out? There was this whole alternate universe going on with Delores and me that you don’t know about. It’s a story you’ve probably heard before, maybe even from my buddy, Drew Evans. They fall in love and the player changes his ways forever. This is a story about a player, who meets a slightly crazy girl. there’s some kinky fuckery-but it’s the happy kind. There’s no dying best friends, no dark tortured pasts, no hidden secrets, no sparkly vampire breakups, and no kinky fuckery. Chicks like to cry-but this isn’t one of those stories. Because it was a hard-won victory-if you knew what I had to go through to make her mine, you’d understand.Īnyway, back to what I was saying. Repeating it might make me sound like a Harry Styles–obsessed prepubescent girl, but I don’t give a damn. One more time for those in the back-girlfriend-Delores-mine. Sitting down to purposely watch something you know will make you unhappy? It makes no frigging sense.īut that’s okay I’m just going to chalk it up to another thing I will never understand about my girlfriend. They cry over books, TV shows, those awful abused-animal commercials, and movies-especially movies.
During the last few weeks, it’s been brought to my attention that sometimes women actually like to cry.
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