Guinness and The Irishman

This story is from the summer of 2014, and I haven’t written it because I don’t exactly come out smelling like roses. You’ll get that joke at the end 😉

You know what I love? Guinness! It’s soo good. It makes me happy. Especially when there’s a shot of spiced rum added into it. But, it is a bit of a heavy beer. And if you’ve ever spent an evening drinking a few pints of this black gold, you know that it can make you pretty bloated. I mean, it’s totally worth it, but it’s still a terrible feeling.

One night, I was at one of the local pubs drinking this delicious drink when a handsome Irishman said hello to me. He was standing with someone else I knew, and introductions were made. He bought me another Guinness or two and I was well on my way to thinking this guy was pretty alright. I had gone to the pub with a friend and the Irishman asked us if we would like to go back to his place (He had a couple roommates he was planning on introducing to my friend). She was not particularly interested. Especially when she found out this guy lived on the outskirts of the city. She was pretty sure he wanted to murder us, whereas I was pretty sure he just wanted to murder my pussy.

I said I would go with him, but we had to drop my friend off first. And get her some Burger King. And we needed beer. So he picked up some more Guinness and we hopped in a cab. Well, ok, so it wasn’t quite that simple. First of all, while he was getting beer, my tummy started rumbling a little bit and I considered going back in to use the ladies room, but the feeling passed. All was good. Or was it? (Foreshadowing) Anyways, the cab. He walked down the street a little bit to catch the first one that came along. It wasn’t long before one turned the corner and he flagged it down. However, there was another group of people also waiting for a cab who thought it was their cab, or should be. Actually, it was just the one woman who was determined that it was her cab. My friend and I backed off immediately with the woman’s two friends and the 4 of us stood and watched the rather tense argument that followed between the Irishman and this woman. It ended with, “Fine! Take the fucking cab!”, and my friend and I got in. Where to next? Burger King of course! I got mozza sticks, and the Irishman ordered us both a bottle of water. Good thinking, sir! He also serenaded us the whole way back to my friend’s apartment.

Now, onto his house! It was located just barely outside the city, but just far enough that there were no lights anywhere, and there was just a tiny little break in the highway where we could cross over the other side and get to where his house was. When I got out of the cab, I looked at the cab driver, pointed to myself, and said, “Remember this face! If you see me on the news as missing, remember where you left me.”

We go into the house and crack a beer and visit for a bit. He tells me he hasn’t lived there that long, he and his roommates had just moved in. They barely had any furniture. My tummy started to rumble again and I excuse myself to use the bathroom. Remember that bloating feeling you get from Guinness? That was in full force, and farting just wasn’t going to cut it. I’ll spare you the gory details, but trust me, there was a big feeling of relief when I was done. My relief, however, was short-lived. Where’s the toilet paper? Are you fucking kidding me?! I desperately looked around me to assess what I had to work with. Not a square to be found. In fact, there was next to nothing in this bathroom. Well, I guess it’s ‘see ya later panties!’ I mean, it’s sexier if it appears I wasn’t wearing underwear to begin with, right? Right. Thank god they at least had a garbage can in this wasteland. They didn’t even have soap! I had to wash my hand with shampoo and shake them dry. I was past desperation and embarrassment and just getting pissed off at this point! If I weren’t such a goddamn lady, I would have taken an upper decker just to teach them a lesson!

I don’t know how much time passed while I was in the bathroom. It felt like a million hours, but it was probably more like 10 minutes. I could pass it off as “freshening up”. Although I’m not sure that would hold much weight if after what I just did.

The rest of the story isn’t too terribly exciting. He sang to me, played me clips from Rocky (He really, really, really likes that movie), told me he was going to “break me”, asked me to go to Ireland with him, told me about his family and childhood in great detail, and then we had sex and he drove me home in the morning. It was average. He was a good kisser, but nothing very exciting about the sex. He has a girlfriend now, and I sure hope he’s gotten better at foreplay and doesn’t suck on her nipples like he’s trying to remove venom from a snakebite. Also, I had sex with him a second time. On a night that I didn’t drink Guinness. You know, just to be sure.

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