Only in New York

I'm waiting for a couple of friends for dinner at a popular Manhattan eatery - next to me are two women, one aged 40ish(woman 1) the other 60+(woman 2), discussing one woman's issue in her relationship. I, of course, cannot resist...


Woman #1: I was just telling my friend here that I am totally in love with my boyfriend, but he has this weird issue that I'm not sure how to handle.

Me: What's the issue, maybe I can help?

Woman #1: Well, it's kind of embarrassing but he can't ejaculate during sex unless I am giving him a blow-job.

Me: When you say "can't" do you mean "won't"?

Woman#1: No, I mean can't. He's 48 and has always had a problem with this - even when he was married for 11 years.  I think it's one of the reasons he doesn't have kids, he physically cannot get off during straight intercourse.  It's SO MUCH work! After 20 minutes of that motion, I find myself looking at the clock and thinking "when is this going to be over?!?!?!" I seriously am going to get lockjaw one day!

Woman #2: I wouldn't complain too much, it's great for the lips.

Me: What do you mean?

Woman #2: Seriously, better than Restalyne for keeping your lips and mouth in good shape. I keep wishing I had someone to give blow-jobs too but it gets harder at my age. It would save me a fortune if I didn't have to get my lips filled so often.

Me: Ha, that's amazing...I've never heard such a thing.

Woman #1: Back to my problem, what am I supposed to do? I think he gets internal orgasms where he doesn't ejaculate and it all builds up and it hurts him. I want to be sure I am taking care of my man, but I don't know how long I can keep this up.

Me: Maybe you should get him an Autoblow?

Woman #1: What is that?

Me: One of my gay male friends told me about it - it's a sex-toy that simulates a bj. Looks like a lighter with lips at one end. I've never seen one but it couldn't hurt to look into it...

Woman #1: Hmmmm...I don't know if he'd be into that...but I'll try anything at this point....

 Only in New York folks, only in New York...

Dead Bodies

I was having lunch at Finn McCools Irish pub yesterday on Main Street in Santa Monica. The place was empty, the bartender was bored, we started chatting...

Bartender: I am recently divorced after eight years of marriage and am new to the dating scene, is it me, or is kinda weird out there?

Me: It's pretty weird. Why, what's happening?

Bartender:  I don't know, I'm trying to figure out the rules of dating these days. Am I supposed to ask a girl for her number, or wait for her to ask me? And once I do get the number, why is it when I call, all I get back is some 2 word text message?  What's that all about?

Me: That's about being non-committal and keeping her options open.

Bartender: I guess. It's amazing that anyone actually makes a real date happen. Though I did go on my first date post-divorce last week.

Me: How'd it go?

Bartender: Good, but she told me this crazy story...

Me: Do tell.

Bartender: We were having dinner and the conversation was going well and then she starts to tell me about a time when she went hiking and found a dead body in the woods.

Me: (Eyes wide with interest) What? Where? How?

Bartender: She went on a hike with her dog in the valley somewhere and she came across a man's body. He had no shirt or shoes on and his torso was bloody from what looked like stab wounds.

Me: What did she do?

Bartender: She was shocked. Said it completely paralyzed her and took her 20 minutes of staring at him before she got it together to call the police.

Me: Whoa. Crazy

Bartender: Yeah she was completely traumatized by the whole thing, still has nightmares -sees the guy chasing her in her dreams.

Me: That's pretty intense first date conversation. How was the mood after that?

Bartender: Ah, kinda creepy actually. I feel like maybe that's a story you should save for the second or third date, don't ya think?

Inspiration

I've been kicking around the idea of starting a blog for quite some time now, but had a hard time narrowing down what I'd like to write about. Last night it, while sitting at the wine bar at the Venice Whole Foods talking to a random guy, it finally hit me.  The conversation went something like this...

Narcisso (real name btw): How old are you?

Me: 38

Narcisso: Wow, you're well preserved.

Me: Gee thanks. So, you usually come to Whole Foods solo to eat a porterhouse on a Friday night?

Narcisso: Yeah, I don't like to go to restaurants alone.

Me: Huh. Why are you single?

Narcisso:  Maybe you already know this, but all women in LA are masochistic.

Me: How so?

Narcisso: Well, I've found that most women in this town like to get hit in bed.  I mean, really get their asses kicked. I'm cool with some of that, but these girls really take it too far. I mean my last girlfriend REALLY wanted me to hit her and it was something I just struggled with for awhile, asked a lot of my friends for their input on what I should do.

Me: I hope their advice was to tell you to run.

Narcisso: Kinda, but it took me awhile to heed it.

Me: How long is awhile?

Narcisso: I don't know, eight months or so...it was a really tough decision. But yeah, I keep running into that over and over again in LA - to answer your question, guess that's why I am eating alone at a Whole Foods tonight.

Me: Wow, well nice chatting, I gotta run.

Narcisso: You're leaving? I can't believe you aren't even going to ask me for my number.  All girls in LA ask guys out...
 

Can't make this stuff up folks.