A spade is a spade and well…A booty call is just that a BOOTY CALL!!

You know with the way I prance around the city going from guy to guy nothing should bother me. Except that I am a girl and sometimes I like to respond in girly ways, like being clingy (though most of the time I could care less), and the countless other things us of the female persuasion tend to do that make men run and make us go what the fuck was I thinking.

Mr. Awesome has proven to be the spade in my life (how I hesitate to write this after I told someone today that I blog, I did not tell them my alias, but, oh hell well). After that first date and me quickly escorting him out of my place. I thought oh well another one for the records. Boy was I wrong. I went out that weekend after our first date and we tried to hook up it just wasn’t going to happen. NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER 2 A.M ANYWAY! I was like hey come over Sunday and hangout and we can have sex in the middle of the morning before I go to the library, what the hell. That lead to the next weekend of me calling him and asking him to join my friends and I. He wasn’t sure because his brother was in town , blah blah blah.

There in Clarke’s with my friend and her boyfriend and my phone goes off at 2:30 A.M. Hey there Mr. Awesome, whats up? Of course that wasn’t my first reaction. I stared at the phone and was more like what the fuck you call me now. Then I answer I pretend to be thrilled. He wanted to get a drink or something. I told him he could meet us, but most of the bars were closing soon and my wing-duo were calling it a night. He deemed it better to meet back at my place and when I got out the cab there he was. Standing there ever so suave smoking his Marlboro Reds.

To be honest all I wanted to do was sleep. We get inside, he lays his 6′4 frame on my bed and next thing I know we’re going at it like bunnies and the fun didn’t stop until way after the sun came up. Then I proceeded to throw him out of my apartment at 8 A.M. and it felt so good.

Before he had left I made a comment to him that he only calls me on Saturday nights after he has been out drinking. His response, maybe I’ll call you on Friday next time. No, it was the next Saturday that he called. It was the end of my night and I was out on a date, it was after one in the morning, however I was in his neighborhood. I choose home instead.

Two weeks later I get a call (this past Saturday) and it is he. I didn’t pick up. Finally called him back tonight after a few martinis after work. He picked up and chatted with me, apparently he was home, in Michigan this weekend. Well you called me and now I’m calling you back. But I guess when your drunk and horny you can forget where you are…