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Two hours later, you lie in bed, tightly curled in the fetal position. The girl who you had been trying to romance, whose name you never even learned, was long gone. Things had been going quite well following your first kiss. It was twenty minutes of pure teenage makeout heaven, followed by her smile and near breathless suggestion to go to your room. Your clothes quickly came off, as did hers. But unfortunately, Lady Bad Luck would strike at the most inopportune time, as your little buddy decided he wasn't in the mood to work that night. It was probably the worst case of performance anxiety you had ever encountered, or perhaps there's another clinical reason for your failure that you've been denying? In either case, the anonymous woman hastily got dressed again while giving you a piece of her mind for "wasting her time" and not "being a real man" who isn't prone to unexpected flaccidity while trying to land the deal. She finished up with a flurry, threatening to slap you if you took a step closer to her, and insinuating that you were going to "pay" for this someday. And you've been lying on that bed crying and feeling sorry for yourself ever since. Not even the size of your record collection was going to salvage anything out of this day. Also, what did that vague threat that you were going to "pay" for this someday mean? She never even knew your name! And it's a given that she forgot where your studio apartment was the moment she stormed out of the building. It wasn't like a mob of angry people were going to be beating a path to your door, is it?
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1/9/2019 2:53:02 AM
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