I’m on the train to St. Louis en route to my annual Missouri Ozark extravaganza vacation. My friends will collect me from the station in St. Louis – which will save a huge amount of time.
I was dumped on Tuesday (man, I really liked that woman) and totally dissed on Saturday (nice tits do not trump rudeness). At the beginning of the trip out of Chicago a pretty girl was looking for a seat. I hoped she would sit next to me, but she sat next to the guy across the aisle from me, saying “you look normal” as she took her seat. I was just beaten and broken enough to take her to mean that I didn’t look normal.
I was asked to move from my seat to let a granddad and granddaughter sit together. I ended up sitting next to a very pretty woman, easily thirty years younger than me. And, not to be a dick about it, much more attractive than my earlier desire. This girl was downright gorgeous: thick shoulder length strawberry red hair, slender build, and a face to make men weak in the knees.
God, karma, or whatever is running the show (if anything IS running the show) sure seems to be taking great pleasure in my tortured sexual frustration. Of course, that’s a bit egotistical – what reason do I have to think the universe gives a rat’s ass about me?
I won’t wallow in self-pity. I’ve worked hard at being by myself for so long that I now realize I’ve accomplished that goal summa cum laude. I’m a huge lone wolf success. New goal: work on yourself so that someone somewhere WANTS you. How hard can it be? BWAAAAHHH …