The Time I Dated A Greek God And Not The Good Kind

Published May 30, 2014 by WELCOME TO HEIDI

He is one of those guys from my past that I’ll never forget. His name was Chris. Or was it Peter? Actually it may have been Paul. Was it Paul? I can’t remember. But I’ll never forget him – or to be more exact – his fur pants.

It’s not every day you meet a great looking young chef on the rise in New York City. And for a girl who loves food – this is hitting the boyfriend jackpot. The only thing that would have made him a better boyfriend would be if his parents or sister or someone he was close to and got discounts from owned a blow dry salon… or a shoe store…. Or Saks… or fuck it I’ll take Macys if I have to. If I could will this person to become a real person I may actually get married one day but for now I’ll have to be happy eating at good restaurants, paying someone to tame my jew hair and shopping at the Barneys shoe sale like a normal person. I can’t shop at Saks anymore because one of my mortal enemies goes there on a daily basis. Maybe she’s looking to buy a soul.

So, there we were in New York City back in the eighties – me and Chris Peter Paul – dating, eating, but not having sex because I actually liked him and when a girl really likes a guy she doesn’t have sex with him right away because it makes it seem like we’re sluts and we are but we don’t need him to know that until we’re ready for him to know that and so we act like we’re all prissy and oh no just a kiss goodnight tonight maybe next time and then it gets so awkward that you have to do it just to get it over with but we weren’t there yet. We were having dinner at his place and then we were gonna finally do it. The dinner was amazing. Not – oh a guy cooked me dinner amazing – but oh a guy cooked me a fucking balls out chefs dinner amazing. He deserved my vagina. Shit, he deserved mine and another girls vagina and I probably would have given him that if he had a cute neighbor. And then it was time. We went to the bedroom and started to get undressed and when I turned around to see him take his pants off – I thought – wait – why does he still have pants on – fur pants – thick fur up to his waist covering his ass pants? What the fuck is happening right now and how do I stop it? Turns out my beautiful, smart, great cooking new boyfriend – was a human hairball. His lower half was so thick with fur that he looked like Pan – the Grecian Goat God who carried a flute and mesmerized the ladies but I didn’t care how good this guy was gonna be with his flute because no amount of music was going to soothe my vagina back into submission. And that was it – the end – relationship over – delicious food buh bye. I fled the area faster than you can say “ohmigod are those hooves?”
These days there are such things as lasers and men are getting all kinds of hair removed from all kinds of places but back then it was game over and I lost out on an actual real meal ticket because I don’t want to date a guy who still has pants on when he takes his pants off. The end.

7 comments on “The Time I Dated A Greek God And Not The Good Kind

  • When it comes to relationship dealbreakers (those of the intimate kind), we humans are a fascinating species. We are individually aroused or repulsed by things that others often cannot comprehend because they each have their own different set of lust/disgust factors.

    I once tried to set a friend up with a work colleague I was also on friendly terms with. The former took one look at the latter said “hello” and walked away, no spark of interest whatsoever. The work colleague I considered to be one of the physically most attractive people I’d ever met. The nonwork friend was also good looking in my estimation, both of thems single at the time. Later, when I asked him why he hadn’t at least pursued conversation, he, a blonde, said: “She’s a redhead, and I don’t go for redheads.” I considered her to be blonde also, but to him her strawberry blonde hair made her repulsive and a redhead. As a favorite poet of mine wrote in the 18th century: “Such and so various are the tastes of men.” Women also.

    A woman friend of mine recently confided her rather unusual standard for men’s intimate equipment. That’s physical equipment, intangible things like kindness and honesty following the prevailing sentiments. She hates the look of any circumcised penis, especially if it’s average or above in size. Yes, her intimate partners are limited to men with very small uncircumcised penises, the smaller the better.

    We’re all different breeds of cat.

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