Sex, Drugs & Movies

Completely random text message on a Tuesday night in November:

Mr. Ego: What's new and exciting miss stranger?

Wait. What? Mr. Ego? I hadn't heard from him since I was forced to make him breakfast in my undies (June), followed by poke-a-palooza (Facebook pokes, not THAT kind of poke! God, you guys are so perverted.)

When I didn't respond right away, I received another text:

Mr. Ego: So what, you don't respond to my txts anymore? Pffffft.
Redhead: Calm down. I was busy last night. Not a whole lot new and exciting. Work. Exercise. Prep for Mexico. Oooh, I fell off a rock climbing wall! Does that count?
Mr. Ego: Yes! Still clumsy, I see. When do you go to Mexico? Wanna bring me? I can be your private cabana boy!!!!
Redhead: Mid Jan. And you wish.
Mr. Ego: Maybe I do! What are you up to this wknd?

I know a booty call (text?) when I see one; I am many things, but stupid is not one of them. Lonely, on the other hand…

Here's the thing: I've always been 100% sure that Mr. Ego is NOT my person. We can hang out, we can flirt like mad, and we can have sex, but he's not my #onetruelove (shout out to California. Ha.)

I invited Mr. Ego over to hang out and watch movies, and unfortunately, had to make it clear that it was a no-sex deal, due to shark week and the hangover from hell (I had been very drunk in Alliston the night before.) I fully expected him to bail due to those stipulations, but surprisingly, he arrived on my doorstep a few hours later, begging me to order food because he was starving.

"So," I asked him, "Where the hell have you been the last few months?"

"I met someone and we dated for awhile. It didn't work out."

Ouch. Even though I knew he wasn't "my person", I had to admit, it still hurt a little that he never wanted anything serious from me.

Mr. Ego and I spent the night curled up together on my couch, watching movies, eating panzerottos (deep fried, of course!) and drinking wine. It was fun and comfortable, as if I were hanging out with an old friend. I'll be completely honest here and say that he made a great replacement for someone that took my heart, stomped all over it, and is no longer in my life. This will make much more sense in the near future, but some of you know exactly who I'm talking about.

Mr. Ego has poked you.

Poke back.

Mr. Ego has poked you.

Poke back.

Buzz! Text message:

Mr. Ego: Whatcha doing this weekend?
Redhead: Yoga and errands. Are you inviting yourself over?
Mr. Ego: Hahaha. Yes.
Redhead: Bring alcohol.

And so he did. Once again, we spent a cozy Saturday night on my couch, watching movies and drinking wine. Suddenly, he looked at me with an evil grin.

"Soooooo, I brought something, and I think you should partake."

"Oh God. What?" I asked him, and he reached over and pulled a very small bag of pot out of his jacket, dangling it like a carrot in front of my nose.

I groaned. "Mr. Ego, you KNOW I don't smoke. It makes me sleepy, stupid, and anti-social."

"I'll just make a pinner. You'll be fine, and it's just us. Live a little!" he teased.

I narrowed my eyes at him and said, "Fine," even though he was already rolling a very small joint.

When it was ready, he grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bathroom. We shoved towels under the door and opened the window.

"This is SO high school," I muttered, and he laughed at me. We passed the joint back and forth, and I emptied a can of air freshener into the bathroom when we were done.

Back on the couch, he put on Inception, and it wasn't five minutes before I started to giggle.

Mr. Ego smirked at me, "You okay over there?"

This caused me to laugh even harder, and he grabbed me and pulled me over to him.

"What?" I giggled.

"You," he said.

"Me what?" I asked, but we were making out before he could answer. There were hands pulling off clothes and then he was dragging me into my bedroom for some hot sex, which happened a couple times that night…and once in the morning.

Let me just say, there's nothing like having an itch scratched…with a really cute, muscular guy.

In the morning, we made french toast together, and watched the most fucked-up movie I have ever seen in my entire life: The Human Centipede. If you choose to watch it, you will need a strong stomach. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Early in the afternoon, Mr. Ego gave me a hug and kiss and left.

We texted back and forth over the next few days, and then I was off to London to spend Christmas with my family. We texted each other on Christmas Day. We wished each other a Happy New Year. He wanted to know when I was coming back to Toronto.

When I returned, I did not hear from him. In typical Mr. Ego fashion, he poked me ad nauseam on Facebook, but he made no effort to meet up with me.

I grew frustrated with the Facebook pokes from time to time, and ignored them. Not that he would ever take the hint or anything:

Mr. Ego has poked you.

Poke back.

Mr. Ego has poked you.


I can't explain why, but I decided to creep his profile last week, and that's when I noticed this: ♥ In a relationship.

Ugh. This really bothered me. Not because I changed my mind about Mr. Ego being "my person", but because it's become apparent that he can't even be my friend when he's dating someone else. Save for his obnoxious Facebook pokes, I only hear from him if he's single and horny, and he is obviously just making sure that I'm still around as a back-up plan.

I'm so over it...and in need of a new fuck buddy.


  1. Little Brother9:29 PM

    My sister smokes pot? I am SHOCKED! SHOCKED! Well, not that shocked.

  2. Shut it, Navy.

    Also, it was the first time in...oh, about eight years. Cut a girl some slack.