I want to hold you close...

I spent this past holiday weekend bathing in testosterone. I was on my game for almost four days without ever dropping it. Men were almost flocking. It was beyond ridiculous. Because of this, I ended up getting about half of my meals paid for, plus coffee, plus introductions and various new friendships. I had some guy following me down the street, teasing me for my number, me messing with him, until I gave in. I have a weakness for tattoo artists. Mostly because they tend to be covered in tattoos. I also managed to pick up a PUA. That was fantastic.

Really, only I would go to a nerd convention and find the one guy who is actually an intelligent, attractive man who brings up the PUA community and The Game at dinner few hours before I take him back to my car and bone him.

I wanted to write the entire experience off as a "well, I'm surrounded by nerds and I'm an attractive chick, so of course I'm going to get attention". But then when I went out and about in downtown, it still carried, I received just as many phone numbers and offers for dates from people I met in restaurants/bars/on the street as I did in the convention.

It was nice. And the one guy who did meet my physical/mental/social/sexual standards was certainly a plus. I was despairing of finding anyone to measure up until I saw him. Then it was, "Fuck yes, thank you."

Later, under the stairwell on the bottom floor of Hotel Figueroa, as I was sliding my hand down the front of his pants and he was pressing me back against the wall, leaning over me, shirt unbuttoned and skin so warm, I had another reason to whisper thanks.

If only I wasn't an atheist, I could thank some sort of deity for hung PUAs, maybe burn some incense or sacrifice a goat a la Jurassic Park. Probably no t-rex, though.

Good times, more later. I'm sore and need to crawl into bed.