Doggy Style: Chapter One

John and I met for drinks and witty banter one early spring evening. I was instantly drawn to his cockiness (good God, I love a confident man), his utterly unapologetic lack of political correctness, and the way he’d cock an eyebrow at me while sucking seductively on his teeth.

We made plans to have dinner that weekend. He called a few hours ahead to let me know that he wouldn’t be able to meet me downtown. He was housesitting for his parents, and one of their dogs was feeling under the weather. Would I be willing to come have dinner in the ‘burbs somewhere near his parents’ place? My heartstrings were plucked… of course I would drive out to meet him so he could stay close to the poor pooch.

That evening, I somehow managed to maneuver through a series of red flags and raging bull like a Matador Ms. Magoo. They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, yet to this day I can’t see how I accepted the seeerrrriious discrepancies between his profile and reality. His teaching job – which he described with such passion? Unemployed masters student of five plus years (to his credit, he did work as teacher during some of this time). His living situation – roommates and two loveably sloppy dogs? Living at home (guess technically his parents were roommates), sleeping in a twin bed with Snoopy sheets.

Ah… now what would a girl in this situation do? Why, introduce the suitor to some of her friends, including one exotic, uninhibited little number known to bring the freak out in more than a few men.

Oh yeah.

Stay tuned for Chapter Two of Doggy Style.