Creative Commons Licence
Awkward Sex in the City by E. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at awkwardsexinthecity.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at awkwardsexinthecity.blogspot.com.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Let Me Get this 'Straight'

After being one of the fortunate individuals that posses a smartphone (that inevitably makes you less of a smart being) - not by choice, but through the economy of the gift - there was a general expectation that my sex life will thrive like bacteria in a petri dish. I spared no time or energy to join every virtual social network available, all Android apps were downloaded, profiles created, photos taken and uploaded, the eccentric morbid queen was ready to take the app world by a storm.
It didn't happen.
Three months down the road, not a single interesting encounter, and only one sad story of a dodgy meet with a shady fellow who looked like a serial killer.
Aside from this sad attempt, all encounters remained trapped in a luminescent screen.
The eccentric morbid queen had nothing to offer but her dry wit and her killer cakes.
Not very enticing for testosterone queens who populate the virtual world and the real one too.
At peace with the disappointing result of the "app world", the eccentric morbid queen kept the apps for what they are, a perfectly convenient way to pass the time, when stuck in traffic or waiting for friends.
And that remained the way in which he dealt with the presence of more than four apps on his smartphone.
Till one day while out with the girls, suffering from a deep state of Verfremdungseffket (please refer to the Wikipedia entry on the term for further clarification) and not really paying attention to anything happening on the apps, a gentleman requested his number. While this happened frequently, what happened next was not very usual. The gentleman called right away and requested to meet the eccentric morbid queen. He was quite incessant and would not take no for answer. As the gentleman was good looking enough, the eccentric morbid queen relented and decided to go for it. Ten minutes later the mysterious gentleman was there. He wasn't an ogre or a serial killer and was actually as attractive as his photos were. This was the first time in a year, that the eccentric queen actually meets with an Egyptian who was not a psycho, or a serial killer or a complete idiot. It was actually, for a change, an exciting prospect. The gentleman seemed very keen. And insisted that their encounter would be strictly for exchanging pleasantries, but should that they should get to know each other, in the biblical sense. Although flattered, something seemed suspicious. The gentleman did not see any of the eccentric morbid queen's photos before, except one, and suggested sex after a two minutes conversation. Deciding it would be a shame to waste this rare chance of actually meeting someone off an app, he went along with the suggestion and acquiesced to the urgent and horny request of that odd but attractive stranger.
Engaging in small talk that ranged somewhere between what is "independent culture" and the destructive habits of capitalist consumption, the eccentric morbid queen was more than puzzled at this strange young man, who although looks like nothing more than a narcissistic horny bugger, decided to have small talk about commodity fetishization and the notion of labour.
Not that his understanding and ideas were in the least bit interesting, but the actual attempt to even consider all of this as a topic of discussion was definitely unusual.
Deciding to waste no more time, the eccentric morbid queen made up his mind, and resolved to go for it, the gentleman was coming home with him for closer inspection.
Leaving the girls for the night after receiving a lot of jeering, hateful looks, and catcalls, the eccentric morbid queen was on his way to carnal bliss. Or so she thought.
A short drive later, the two strange bedfellows (pun intended) sneaked into the eccentric morbid queen's home under the guise of darkness and dimmed light. As soon as they settled and the eccentric morbid queen took the first move, he was rejected. The handsome stranger did not kiss. *bwoom*
And it all went downhill from there.
The peculiar stranger, did not touch, or kiss, or embrace, did not do anything that does not involve inserting his penis into an orifice.
It finally hit her. The eccentric morbid queen was ambushed. He fell into a straight trap. The stranger was not odd, or peculiar or unusual. He was a straight man who used gay men to get his rocks off.
It was, however, unusual for the eccentric morbid queen who prided himself in never before falling for those types of men and being able to find them out miles away.
What happened? How could his judgement fail her so miserably? Where did he go wrong?
How could she not notice the ring on his finger and put two and two together and realize that this was indeed a horny straight man who would shag a sheep, if he could get away with it, to get his rocks off.
Not that the horny bugger was not attractive or pleasantly endowed, but the fact that the only time anyone was so keen to meet, turned out to be some randy straight man.
'Merry Christmas you retarded bitch', that was all what went through the mind of the eccentric morbid queen as he assessed the situation of the semi-naked heterosexual ensconced on his couch.
There was the matter that he is attractive, and that he did offer him a free ride home (the eccentric morbid queen would ride with the devil, if it would get her home from the other side of this abominable city) and despite realizing how dishonest and abusive this piece of shit is, an awkward and hurried fellatio was in order.
Making it very clear that this is all that is going to happen, the heterosexual asshole took whatever was offered and agreed. Ten uneventful minutes later, he was on his way out after giving the eccentric morbid queen a straight handshake (FOR REAL) and left.
Enraged at this unfortunate encounter with this selfish, dishonest pig, it was time for one of his famous angry texts. So at four in the morning, the unsuspecting swine, received a 15 line paragraph shredding him to pieces. 
The End.