"Pub Garbage" add-on story

In the story Proud Member of Pub Garbage,

I had said:

So proud of being the booty call of a rich boy... (that info was also revealed, possibly to trigger the competitive side in me)

Story is this,

After hearing what my friend does for a living, she tells him that her ex-boyfriend was rich.

I enter the scene without knowing this.

Somehow the conversation turns to sexuality, due to an open minded female friend of mine, and after my male friend leaves, this topic continues, and proudly she states:

“I was dating this rich guy. He was so busy being rich, I broke up with him. Now we meet now and then when he calls. We have sex, and he leaves”, with an aura of the child which upon doing something marvelous in its mind, goes: “Mom, mom, mom, Look what I did”

And I was supposed to acknowledge that, appreciate that, and tell her “Wow. Good Job!”

The last time I checked, it really was not that difficult for an attractive woman to find a (rich) dude to have sex with her with no strings attached, and no demanded responsibility on the guys side.

It really must be a big accomplishment for an attractive woman to find a guy who accepts this deal:
“You busy tonight?”
“No”
“I'll be there in half hour”
Door knocks, pants go down, after another half hour,
“Thanks babe, that was nice.”

Ooooh. Oooooh. Very very difficult.

Now I am all for people living their sexuality in a respectful manner, it is in the end a sharing of beautiful intimacy. This is not about the intimacy. Telling me she is having sex with a dude, in a matter of factly manner is fine, leaves me neutral. We are adults.

I mean this:

“I take it you are single”
“Kind of. There is a guy I meet now and then” or “No, I see a guy” or “Yes, but I got my sexual needs covered”, you get the picture. Matter of factly.

But a girl telling me that she has a dude who calls her, fucks her, and dumps her, with the expectation that her value will be raised in my eyes, that I will perceive her as a diamond that is a challenge to attain, really is utter disillusionment. Definition of idiocy. Ignorance. Stupidity.

By telling that to me in that way, you tell me you are a free shag for a dude who has better options than you. You tell me you don't deserve any better treatment from me. A proud free shag you are.

Nothing more. Nothing less?

No.

Nothing more, but way less, possibly worthless.

P.S. For the dumb****s out there (I know you, the reader, are not one. Yea, you), this story is written for the ones telling me they are having a fuckbuddy with the intention that I will get jealous or with the intention of raising their value in my eyes. Not for the ones just telling me casually in the flow of conversation.

Even obese get laid

I was sitting on the table together with one of the new students, a girl, enjoying the environment.

There was a group of five or six girls in front of us. One was a thirtyish dancer, not so beautiful, but extremely sexy. The way she moved her body was a sight to behold. The rest was chubby, at best.

Around 2 AM, a new girl enters the group. Twenty something, and obese. Obese to the point of weighing possibly same as me, while her eyes were at my shoulder level, and I am not a light guy.

The girl with me looks at her, turns to me and asks:

“Finndistan, do these kind of girls get hit on?”
“Wait till 3.25 AM, you'll see”

Apparently I underestimated.

3 AM, I need to visit the gents, after enjoying relief, I open the door of the gents, only to see:

An african dude, all dressed like a Harlem Brotha all over this obese girl, pretty much begging to continue the night. The girl apparently interested; playing hard to get.

To give more detail:

The African dude was a good looking man. In shape, tall, handsome, dressed to style, no matter how ridiculous I found the harlem style, good voice, he was the leader of his group of around five guys.

All in all, he was in the top three of the fifteen or so black guys in the venue. (Fuck political correctness. One of my best friends is a black guy. When we stand side by side, he... is... black... , I... am... dirty.. white. So, these guys were black.)

Top guy of his niche. He was going for one of the lowest in the barrel.

Then it made sense. The entitlement of the other girls in the group, the bitchy aura that was over that group. Hell, if the worst one in the group was getting hit on by an attractive man, what should the chubbies feel they deserve? What would the dancer feel worthy of herself?

Damn you guys!

Start being picky.

For one blubberfuck, you are fucking over the rest of mankind.

If you are attractive, go for attractive.

Stabilize the market, do not screw it up.

A future post foreshadow: (This obese had a cute face. She was not in the lowest rank, but in the second lowest. The lowest being obese and ugly face, similar to a man who is a bum, ugly, fat and a nice guy) Even the lowest ranks of women have it easier to find a short term mate than average, and even over average men.

Nails are not enough

Have you ever noticed that the women with the most made up nails are the fatties? Not just you run of the mill overweight women. The bitchy ones.

They go out with the H&M clothing designed for anorexic/thin/average girls: Leggings, tight tops, what not.

Three layers of blubber blubbing around their belly, three layers of chin hidden by make up, the extravagant shoes, and, like I said, accompanied by a bitchy behavior.

That is not what I got stuck at.

It is the nails.

The nails that were done that day by a nail paint artist

Lacquer on the pink part, and then some art on the grown long witchy nails, which is usually long enough to be a danger to a wild bear in the forest, long enough to necessitate a hidden weapons carry permit

Yes, even though I find those kind of nails disturbingly disgusting on these women, objectively, the nails may be good looking, but ladies, they do not make you beautiful.

The men you are interested in do not have a nail fetish, except the 1% hiding somewhere in the bushes. These men want a body in shape, a face not drowning in war paint, and an attitude that is pleasant.

You are fat. You war paint yourself. You are definitely a pain to be flirting with.

Showing off those expensive nails will not change a thing.

You are still fat, war painted, and a bitchy. You are unhealthy.

Painting nils will not change a thing.

A smile, a friendly attitude, a down to earth existence; now that will cause a change worthy of fireworks.

If you are willing to empty your wallet anyway;

Instead of paying the fifty euros to the nail painter, pay it to me, I will guide you and in six months, you will be the woman that you thought those nail paintings would have turned you into, but have failed, and are failing, and will fail. I will not fail.

But the nails.....

If not for guidance, then spend the money on sausage... At least you get something out of it.