A few days ago, I had asked those who have 'liked' my Wits MaGee page on facebook, "What is the worst date you have ever been on?" I have gotten some great feedback and a few surprising stories as well. Props to one, who answered and survived this doozy:
"We were watching a movie at his place and in the span of a minute he stood up, started jerking off in front of me, grabbed my hand, and blew his load in my hand. It was our second date and we had only just kissed."
I would have stood there with my mouth wide open. And not in the welcoming way. I mean, I would be Frownie Face MaGee in that moment.
I was surprised that BooBoo did not leave a comment to that question. She had a similar situation a few years back. She was working at a local supermarket when she met *Max. I had met Max in my toddler years at the house where my daycare was. This rotund and jolly woman named *Cherry would have about 4-8 kids, ranging from babies to about eight years old, in her big basement full of toys, coloring books, TV, music and a massive backyard with an epic swing set. It was heaven. For children, and pedophiles, alike.
Fortunately, I was never fondled inappropriately until I was like sixteen... okay, eighteen. I was very particular about who fondled what... and where... and when. Creepy, old men just didn't tickle my pickle.
Anyway, Max was one of the kids in daycare with me and he was a bit 'off' as a kid. His mother was French and his father was from Northern Ireland (co-inky-dink!!!!!) and he was the oldest of 5 or 6 children. But the weirdest thing about him was his need for putting his eyeball/eye socket on people's elbows....
You heard me. He sincerely enjoyed shoving anyone's elbow into his eye(s). Anyone's. Pointy and sharp, saggy and dry, hearty and strong... you name an elbow-type, he shoved his eye onto it.
Now, at age five, I was not exactly the most normal crayon in the box. There was a three-tiered bookshelf in my moldy basement that I had made into a Barbie dream house. All of the furniture remained to be bootleg knick-knacks and other shit from around my house. And since I was the kid that my parents pretend wasn't an 'oops', I was graced with some very special hand-me-downs. New toys were only for Christmas or my birthday. My Barbies were all Bunny's or Stiney's in the 80s. You could tell which ones were which sister's by their unique attributes.
Stiney was known for cutting off all of their hair so that they looked like full-on lesbians. She usually dressed them in gym clothes or casual wear to further extend the notion that they were, in fact, bull-dykes.
Bunny decided that she would leave a more perverse mark on her Barbies. Once you took off their clothes, Barbie's bright, red nipples, in permanent marker, stared you right in the retina. Some of them had pubes. That was reserved for the select and privileged. They were mesmerizing and mysterious.
I was severely proud of the dream house that I had built and created. Well, alright--- it was more like a Barbie Brothel. In my head, I could practically hear Barbie moaning the second she felt Ken's bump against her plastic twat. Blonde Barbie and Ken would do it on the actual Barbie bed, but the other brunette barbies and my one black Barbie got to do it on make-shift beds made out of unused super-maxi pads.
Before I am dubbed doll racist, let me just say that I was a light brunette as a child. So, I don't know what the fuck was wrong with me. Either way, all of my Barbies were hardcore, Ken-bump sluts. Regardless of race and hair color.
Every other day I would mosey on down to my basement while Bunny blasted The Fugees album in her CD player in the room directly above the basement. I would make Ken cheat on Barbie with black Barbie. She would get jealous and bang his twin. His twin would then find his way into Skipper's room (which I didn't know was statutory rape at the time). It was a Barbie Orgy. Better know as a Bargy--- to me.
The Fugees will forever be synonymous with Bargies in my book. Thanks Bunz.
Anyway, back to Max. He was about two years younger than me and one year younger than BooBoo. Max was a bag boy and BooBoo was a cashier. A flirtation started up. There were days where she would call me up and tell me how much she liked him and how sweet he was. I never really thought much of it, he was always freaky elbow kid to me. Until the night BooBoo decided to hang out with Max at his house. My perception of him was never the same.
To describe this story, one must recognize that this is a second party recount. BooBoo informed me of this event immediately after she escaped from it. This is what I remember her describing...
She started the story out with the fact that Max shared a room with his brother, so there were two beds in the room. They watched some TV and started making out. She then goes on to describe that he starts getting hard. Surprise! A seventeen year old boy? Hard? After making out? I don't believe it. However, BooBoo was not ready for that commitment in the moment. She backed away and made the decision to blue-balls the poor kid, mainly because she did not want to move too fast, for she really did like him. She liked him RIGHT UP UNTIL this point...
She told him that she did not want to take it any further. I can only assume he huffed and puffed for a few seconds until he decided to move himself onto his little brother's bed and jacked it for himself. In front of her. While she watched. Awkwardly and upset.
BooBoo left his house soon after that occurred and walked to my house as she told me the entire story on the phone. After an hour and a half of deliberating as to what she should do about the inappropriate incident, she decided that since he immaturely choked his chicken in front of her, she was going to immaturely Facebook message break-up with Elbow Max.
I would see him when I would go buy groceries and wonder if he knew that I knew he wanked it, awkwardly, in his brother's bed, in front of my best friend. I mean, I did know... and he did know that BooBoo was my best friend. But, he always had this dopey expression upon his face no matter what mood he was in. Whatever... he was now weird, elbow-eye, jerk-it Max. And that was all that mattered.
As he bagged my food, I stared at his elbows and wondered if he still had a fetish for eye-to-elbow contact. I also wondered if he washed his brother's bedding after he busted a nut on them. However, the thing I wondered most is 'what did he think he was doing?' I mean, seriously... did he think he was turning her on? Like, "Yeah, girl, you see me over here? Doing this? You're gunna get to see my 'O' face... get pumped!" I mean, girls who play their DJ in front of men are considered sexy, yes. I can understand that. However, no matter how hot a dude is... six-pack, biceps, BMW, Armani blazer... it will never be "sexy" to jack off around a girl the first time you hang out. Or, like... any time, really.
If a girl is watching you masturbate, she probably does not want to join in. Unless the girl is Snookie... but she is essentially just a live version of one of my slampig Barbie Dolls.
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