Cody
It’s been three days since I arrived in New York and, fuck, this city is boring as shit after what happened in the Hamptons. Who knew that the Big Apple could feel like an ex-lover full of wrinkles and stretch marks?
Well, not everything is bad; Kim’s here too, so that’s something.
I know what you’re thinking, but no, we haven’t fucked since that last time at the engagement party. Still, we’re trying to make an effort to get to know each other. I mean, it makes sense. Even though we’re part of the same family, we went straight to fucking before we even knew if any of us was allergic to shrimp and shit like that.
Look, I don’t usually do stuff like this. Talking about my interests, having dinner… All that regular shit. I’ve never done ‘regular’, you know? For me an average night out ends in chaos, mayhem and dripping thongs. This ‘dating’ thing is as alien to me as the tampon shelves at the supermarket.
But, just between you and me, it’s not that bad. It’s been interesting to talk with Kim like a regular human being. She’s so much more than just a piece of ass; she’s smart, funny and ambitious. Remember when I complained about the women here in New York? Yeah, Kim has exactly the one quality I was missing—substance. And that’s exactly why I tried to put sex out of my mind for a while.
After her time in the Hamptons came to an end, she convinced me we should put things on hold; we wouldn’t make any decisions, but instead we’d make an effort and get to know each other. Seems reasonable, doesn’t it? Yeah, I thought so too… But now that my balls are as swollen as blue tennis balls, it doesn’t look that fucking reasonable anymore.
The one time I went for dinner with her I could barely concentrate on what she was saying. I lasted half an hour and, as interesting as the conversation was, my brain then decided to mentally tear apart the tight dress she was wearing.
It’s hard; yeah, it’s fun, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me.
For instance, right now I’m sitting in the living room of my downtown apartment, waiting for her call. We agreed to have dinner together again, but she hasn’t responded to any of my texts since 2 PM. I know she’s busy handling some bullshit scandal for the Mayor, something to do with the teacher’s union, but fuck… I’m going insane in here.
Besides keeping an eye on my investments—just to make sure I always have some cash at hand—there’s not much I do every day. I usually sleep until three in the afternoon, get up and go to the gym. And then it’s the same cycle—dinner and drinks, clubbing and drinks… and then sex and drinks. I probably go to bed around five or six in the morning, and then it all starts over again the next day.
So, you know, this change of pace has been interesting. But it’s also driving me fucking crazy. I probably look like I’m a fucking maniac wired up on cocaine right now. I’m switching channels on the TV every thirty seconds, trying hard not to hit the bottle before heading out for dinner. But the clock keeps on ticking and ticking, and still there’s nothing from her. It’s 6 PM already, and I’m ravenous, and the more I wait for her call, the more I grow ravenous for something other than food.
Bzzzzzt, my cell phone buzzes inside my pocket and I reach for it like an overly excited high school girl. It’s a text from Kim, finally.
I unlock the screen and, the moment I read her words, I feel as if someone kicked me in the balls. “Won’t be able to make it today. Sorry!” it reads, and I immediately feel like a fucking idiot for waiting on her. I mean, what the fuck? I’m holed up inside the house like Bin Laden, anxious about going on a date with a stepsister who I’m not even fucking, and then she flakes on me. Hoo-fucking-ray, Cody, way to go.
You know what I need to do? I need to fucking unwind. I won’t be seeing her today, so I guess it’s time for me to get out of the house. I’ll probably call some friends of mine and go out for dinner. Then, who knows?
Now, don’t go looking at me like that. I’m not going to hit the clubs so that I can score some hot piece of ass. My balls might be as blue as the clearest of skies, but that doesn’t mean I can get Kim out of my head. Besides, if there’s the slightest chance I might get to fuck her again… I don’t want to blow it.
But right now I need to do something or I’ll just go fucking insane. I’ve been sitting on my ass all day, waiting for her call, and I need to stretch my legs, which translates as getting the gang together, having a few drinks and forgetting all about Kim, yeah, as if that’s possible, for a few hours.
I exchange my sweater for a nice button up white shirt, put on shoes as black as the night, and then head out.
As I step inside the elevator, my fingers are flying over my cell’s screen.
“Dinner at La Bernadin?” I type, and then send it to my immoral hard-drinking buddies.
La Bernadin seems like the perfect place for my night to start.