No Nerve, Never

if i had wings i could fly

there was the time we thought we'd step out off the worldwideweb and into the drunken heaven they call 14th street.
a couple of drinks, perhaps some bonding chitchat, and definitely some real-live people without blurry facial features (unless we did too many shots) and a big "AGNOSTIC" sign nailed onto their forehead.

and then we met Ass Model.
i just realized we shoulda called this blog "Douchebag New York (and 25 miles near me)."

Ass Model opened up his non-game with "do you guys ever do online dating?"
as if we had a huge sign that says "I DO EVERYTHING ON THE INTERNET." as if he could tell just by looking at me that i know way too much about everyone i know and tons of people i don't by my Google skills, trollmaster abilities, and overall desire to stay up till 5 am looking up lawsuits my doctor has been in.
but anyway.

after firmly denying knowing anything about craigslist casual encounters, missed connections, personals, or really, denying we even knew what Craigslist is ("what? where'd you hear i bought used handcuffs there?!?! LIES!!!!"), he went on to express his frustration with the online community and dating in general.
and then he proceeded to tell us he's an Ass Model. this is what he does professionally, he said.

let me pause here to say something. in general, claiming to be an Ass Model will only get you one place. and that place is not in my pants.

Ass Model ended up asking us BOTH for our number (quality), and he went in our contacts as simply "Ass Model," because neither of us had any clue as to what his name actually is.
so, in conclusion, never EVER say you're an Ass Model, because when you call me the next Monday and say "Hi, it's your favorite Ass Model, calling to see if you want to go out to dinner," I can't even call you back because I DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME!!!!!

fucking a.

posted by Cristina @ 8:13 AM