I’m an idiot

There was nothing I used to enjoy more than gaming women in bars – hit as many as possible and you get a certain return rate. I had some standard pick-ups and a great line in negging. Basically, I was a full on douchebag.

I saw this amazing blonde in my local – tall, really slim, long long legs, big expressive eyes, and I ain’t gonna lie, a giant pair of bolt on tits. I sidled up to her: “I’d sure love to get in those jeans, darling.” She brushed me off politely, but I wouldn’t let it go.

“That’s a killer bod, and I want to be all up in it.” She turned away. “Whatever,” I said, “I can’t be doing with fake skanks anyway.” She whirled around. “Get in these jeans? In this body? I’ll show you the difference between real and fake, you disrespectful asshole.” And she punched me out cold.

I woke up looking into a mirror, I thought. Then I realised I was peering at my own face as it stood up and walked away. “Enjoy the jeans, honey! They’re real tight.” Now I have to face an endless parade of dudes trying to score with me. I can’t shop, go to the movies or have a drink without being bothered. I guess I brought it on myself…


Leave a Reply