Someone told me yesterday was a full moon.  I don’t often look at the moon, being an urban dweller plagued with light pollution and a roof, so I believed it.  A full moon certainly does “explain” some of yesterday’s odd behavior.

When I worked in a bar it was the “full moon” nights that were the craziest.  If there weren’t more fights, then there were more potential fights that we were able to ameliorate just in time.  If there weren’t any belligerent assholes, there were the jerks who wanted to talk to my manager about my attitude.  If there weren’t any dickwads who passed counterfeit bills, there were shitheads who ran out on their bills altogether.  The nights we perceived as full moon nights were always nuts.

So a full moon was as good an explanation as any for the coincidences that occurred yesterday.  First, I saw a guy I’d given a blow job to several months ago.  I saw him in a situation where it would have been easy to say hello, but we didn’t know each other beyond the blow job.  “Hello, how’s your dick doing?” probably wouldn’t have been a good opener, and I really couldn’t think of much else to say to him.

I was shocked I even recognized him, really, considering my shit memory.  But how horrible and embarrassing would it have been if he either didn’t remember me, or feigned not remembering me?  I chose to avoid any potential embarrassment on either of our parts by not saying hello.

Then I got a text message from a guy I have in my phone under a nickname.  I have no clue what his real name is.  I have only an idea of how his number might have found its way into my phone.  We’ve never met.

Later in the evening he contacted me via YIM.  The guy lives here in San Francisco and wants to “finally” meet.  Uh, ok.  This could be a guy from Twitter, he could be from Craig’s List.  I’m pretty sure he’s not a friend of a friend, because then I’d probably have his actual name.  He informed me he’s freshly single.  We’ll meet soon, so that could mean some potential fun (or a fun disaster).

Then, out of the blue Greek Guy emailed me.  I hadn’t heard from him since he came over to my place and fucked me in all my holes.  He wanted to explain why.  I assured him that he owed me no explanation since I was not his girlfriend.  He assured me that he had had a great time.  Ok, that’s all I needed.

So Greek Guy came over.  Though I had told him I was in a shit mood and to bring alcohol, which means, (for those of you who don’t know drinker lady speak,) “Bring me a lot of alcohol so I can forget why my mood is so shitty and so we can have fun drunken sex,” he brought an amount of vodka that I consider almost insulting, about 1/4 of a 750mL bottle.  He seemed quite proud that he brought a whole bottle–chilled even–of soda water, and a cut lemon.  The fact that the lemon was cut seemed to be important to him.  Did he think my kitchen has no knives?

While he was here another guy from whom I’ve not heard for ages contacted me via YIM.  It was another guy with a nickname.  I did not respond to him, as I had company.

Greek guy fucked me.  I came when he had a vibrator in my ass, fingers in my pussy, and the Magic Wand on my clit.  I warned him that I’m like a guy after I come–I want to go to sleep–so it was in his best interest not to let me come yet, but he did anyway.  He came on my face (and arm) with the help of my finger in his ass.

[According to the interwebnets the full moon was in early August 2009, NOT August 23, 2009.]

I swear.  True story.

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