You know, I’ve never asked this, but maybe I should.
Hey, my droogies. I know – I’ve been ignoring you, but work has been hectic and The Little Treasure is getting married next month, and that’s it’s own whole ball of cats.
Meanwhile, I met a woman whom I thought was a nice girl. By nice, I mean the usual: young, very large breasts and a willingness to go out with yours truly. Actually, at 30, she has a body that would be perfectly acceptable on any number of adult magazines or websites, but I digress.
Big cans and a willingness to trade money for sex does not necessarily a Sugar Baby make, and this is what I quickly realized with a girl I’ll call ‘Big Guns.’
We met, and she was wearing a black dress that revealed a good amount of cleavage. Her hair is brunette, long, tied back over one shoulder, and she has big brown eyes and full lips with a kind of chocolate lipstick I hadn’t seen before.
It was a kiss-on-the-cheek greeting, but she still managed to rub my upper arm with a nipple. We sat down at a table near the bar at a restaurant I liked. She ordered wine.
“What kind would you like?” the waiter asked.
“Red,” she said.
“Um – do you have a favorite kind?”
She thought a moment. “No,” she said. “Just red.”
Well, not everyone is a connoisseur. “I think she’s probably like a Pinot,” I said. “I’ll take a ,” and I put it like that because only this bar sells that beer.
The waiter leaves, now we have some time to talk.
“So,” I said, as she sat there, very much as she would if someone were painting her, “what got you into the whole SD/SB thing?”
“Oh,” she said, “I got tired of meeting all poor guys. I don’t want to go out with the shift supervisor at Wal Mart.”
I nodded. “And what are you looking for, then?”
“Something long term.”
Ugh – get out the extraction equipment. I hate having to pull teeth.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Didn’t you say you lived in Florida?”
“Yes,” I said. “I really hated Florida.”
“I could try Florida,” she said. “I think it would be nice.”
Well, ok – that’s pretty much right out of the gate. I could blame my cologne but I don’t wear any.
“Oh,” I said.
“Or Maryland,” she added. “My son likes lacrosse. My daughter would like to ride horses.”
“I have horses, my daughter rides,” I offered.
She looks right at me. “I’m looking for something serious,” she said. “Long term.”
“I got that,” I said.
The waiter brought the drinks. We both drank and it was kind of a relief not to talk to her. But you know me, my droogies. Just because the water is cold, doesn’t mean I won’t dive in again.
“So have you met a lot of guys?” I asked her. This is usually a lead in question to get her to talk about the wannabes who pass themselves off as SD’s. Every woman has a few real winners to talk about.
“No,” she said.
“Oh,” I said.
“I’m looking for something long term,” she said. “Not a lot of guys.”
“I got that,” I said.
She went to being quiet again.
And this was the WHOLE DATE, my droogies. She had the social skills of a chia plant. It was unnerving.
So it became time to end this, and I paid the bill. This is never good when you clearly didn’t get along. Sugaring isn’t dating – there’s really no, “Well, want to have dead-end sex, seeing as I don’t plan to call you again and you don’t want me to?”
“Walk you to your car?” I asked.
“It’s around the corner,” she said.
I nodded and we started walking. Fortunately it was on the way to my car. She drove a Mirage – wow. I don’t think they’ve made those for more than 10 years.
She turned around at the car and said, “When do you want to see me again?”
WHAM! What date were you on? I swear, I thought I bored the socks off of this girl. We weren’t out for 2 hours and it felt like five.
“Well, I get that you’re looking for something long term,” I said. “What sort of arrangement do you want?”
The street lights shined like little stars in her completely vacant brown eyes.
“A weekly allowance, a pay-as-you-go, being a live-in?” I prompted her.
She thought about that. She looked up at me.
“Yeah,” she said.
I kissed her, and I walked away before she could ask for money.
I know I’ve said in the past, “There are three types of SB’s” but are there four?
How do you all feel about, “Girls who might not be aware they’re doing this?”
Carry on, my droogies!