I like to flirt. I do. I flirt best when I am in my element. Outside of it, I'm useless and shy.

~

Went to the casino last night, with James and Allison. There was a jam session going on, teched by a friend of Allison's fianc�e. The fianc�e would have been with us, too, but he pulled his back earlier that day and, every pun intended, backed out.

Upon arriving, the other two went to the buffet, and I read an ancient newspaper. (I had been thoroughly fed by other friends earlier that night.)

Then we watched the band for a while.

And oh, I must say. One of their guitarists made my panties wet just watching him.

It wasn't that he was particularly physically attractive (on the better side of average), or well dressed (jeans and a t-shirt), but rather that he obviously loved what he was doing, and was phenomenally good at it.

~

"I gotta go pee," I politely informed my friends. "I'll be right back."

"Alright," they said. They were wandering around the slot machines, looking glazed at the blinking lights and waiting for some spaces to open up at the roulette table.

I went pee. Not right there, of course. In the bathroom.

On a completely unrelated side note, I do not approve of 'sanitary toilet seat covers'. If there's bacteria on the toilet seat, it's going to get on your ass, not on your face. If you're in a habit of touching your ass a lot, maybe you should wash your hands at lot, too.

And seriously, if someone else is prone to putting their face on your ass, maybe you should shower first.

Just saying.

Anyway. Where was I?

Oh yes. Came back from the bathroom, and couldn't find Allison or James anywhere.

But I did find the cute guitarist, taking a break and watching the band. When he sat down at a slot machine with an empty machine next to it, I had a fast internal debate and my heart started beating a million times a minute.

Then I sat down next to him, plugged in my voucher, and played a little.

After losing about five bucks, I heaved a great, faked sigh and said: "You know, I can't help but think I'd have just as much fun throwing loonies into a pit."

He laughed then, which got him talking.

His name is Brent.

He lives with the guitarist on the left.

He's single.

He plays at the casino every Tuesday.

And he has nice hands and a firm handshake.

"Does this mean you'll come out with me on Tuesdays?" Allison asked, later.

I just grinned.

Who knows, right?

I know it was a terrible pick-up line, but a girl has to get a guy talking somehow.

~

G called, while I was at the casino. Left a voicemail, because it was too loud to pick up.

I went to the bathroom and checked it.

"G misses you," it said, and I almost threw my phone across the stall.

Before he left to go to May Crown, he told me: "You know, I miss you and I like you, but if some hot hockey mom is all hot for me, I'm not going to say no. I'm not made of stone."

"Yeah," I said, disgusted. "You're not made of self-restraint, either, apparently."

He called this morning. He sounds rough. Sore throat, stopped up nose, bit of a hacking cough.

"Can I call you later?" he asked, almost plaintively.

"Alright," I said, though I know I should have said 'no, no, a million times no!'.

I cannot help but feel we're in some perverse, unacknowledged, D/s relationship, where I am the dominant, doling out permission, chastising when he goes astray, tightening the leash.

I will admit, there's a certain rush to be had, fighting with him. Especially when I gain dominance.

Dominance is not something I seek, generally. In fact, I avoid it as much as possible.

It's curious that he pleases me so, even while he makes me angry.

I don't think he's going to call me again tonight.

Boys!

~

I need to finish my calligraphy. I better go.

~

I'M NOT WATCHING BOYZONE VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE YOU ARE YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT OMGWTFBBQ!!1!!11!

.

Rosie.

Before&After