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First Name Only [FNO] – Part Three

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INTRO 
PART ONE
PART TWO

“SHIT!!! Stay here!” MuscleTee said. He hurtled off the bed and scrambled to get dressed as I gaped at him in astonishment. “She still has a fucking key?!?!”, I hissed. He just frowned and pulled the door shut behind him.  Glancing down at my very skimpy state of undress, I shrugged and turned over onto my stomach. This should be interesting…

Eavesdropping through the shut bedroom door, I vaguely heard muffled voices, then a high-pitched “Whose shoes are these???” and an “IS SHE IN THERE?!?!”.

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. BOOM!!!

The bedroom door flies open and I shit you not, filling the doorway is a shirtless MuscleTee restraining a very pissed off Bianca. His arms are wrapped around her waist, holding her aloft as her arms and legs are flailing in an attempt to get at me. “You fucking asshole, I cannot believe you!!”, she screamed at him.  I looked up at her mildly, still on my stomach, and propped my head on one hand under my chin.  Then I lifted the other hand and simply wiggled my fingers in a cute little wave. This did not go over well with the 4’11” armful of hatred. She screeched at me, “Did he tell you he fucked me two days ago?!?!”  I just grinned at her as he wrestled her still-convulsing little body back out of the bedroom.  A few minutes later, the front door slammed loudly and MuscleTee returned to the bedroom.  I was already half-dressed… “Don’t go.”, he said. Look y’all, if 50peach knows one thing, it’s when to exit a party-turned-shitshow.   And sure enough, as I continued to hunt for my remaining undergarments, shirt and shoes, his phone starts blowing up with calls and angry texts from little miss Bianca. Not that I blamed her.  If anything, I pitied her a little bit at that moment.  MuscleTee slid his hands around my waist and asked me again to stay.  “Oh, no… it’s clear you have things to deal with. I should go.”  At his front door, he kissed me one last time.  I looked up into his distressed face, lifted one eyebrow and smiled as I said, “See you when I see you.”.  He looked bewildered. I left.

I did not allow him time to ask for my number. You see, I was fully conscious of the decision I made the night before and had no illusions of anything beyond the rising sun. Despite the drama-riffic ending I felt empowered and in complete control in that moment, more so than ever in my life’s experience with men.  Off I went in my lovely walk of shame back to my friend’s place to nurse one of the worst hangovers of my life.  Yeah, what I said about RedBull/Grey Goose?  I TAKE IT ALL BACK. But in the days afterward my girls and I laughed about it. They could NOT believe what a nightmare that evening had turned out to be.  Seriously…it’s the kind of stuff you can’t make up. The few trusted male friends I told about it had one thing to say…”Well, he had to win at SOMETHING with you.”  (Envisioning a caveman bonking me over the head with a club and dragging me into his cave to prove his manhood….yup, that’s an accurate summation.)

Now, you may be wondering how his number wound up in my phone.  Well, nearly two weeks went by before I ran into him again. Amazing, the Northeast is… so many people in such a small space, and yet you still run into people you DO NOT want to see, all the damn time. I had stopped into a different bar for a drink after a shitty day at work. While chatting with the Irish bartender, I felt a very tall presence next to me.  I lifted my lashes and there he was, looking down at me with that same cocky smirk.  He sat down next to me and told me that he’d been looking for me around town since that night. I snorted in disbelief and said “Please. No you haven’t.”.  He protested that he had… that he had asked his pool partner where I played pool during the week and even showed up to find me. (My team had played at a different bar that night.) He said he even asked the bartender if he’d seen me. Whatttttttt?  That isn’t how this works! Number 1, it was what it was, dude. Number 2, isn’t this every guy’s dream scenario? No strings attached, one night fling, no pressure for anything more, and he’s seeking ME out?!?  No way, honey.  But I did relent and give him my number, not expecting anything more. His life was obviously still a mess.

But every few days or so, this first name only would pop up on my phone. We’d flirt late into the night and allude to the craziness of our one encounter.  Turns out he is a biomedical engineer!  My response to hearing that was “[FNO], how could you be so impossibly smart yet so DUMB with women???”.  But we never had another fling. And then I moved. The texts dwindled and then stopped.  Until the other night’s “”Hey sweetie….you still from around these parts?”. So odd – I’d heard nothing from him since September!  I replied to him the next day, “Someone had fun last night…Long time!” He responded and said the he ran into the guy who was his pool partner that fateful night. Hadn’t seen him in months and they were talking about me. Good to know I’m … memorable.

So there you go.  FNO – smokin’ hot guy, crazy ex-girlfriend, and the night 50peach grew some ladyballs.

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