Puppies and various overly cute shit.
This is the move where she grabs her MacBook or iPhone in the AM pretending like she’s important and just has to check her e-mail first thing when she wakes up because her company relies solely on her shoulders. Truth being she works as an assistant to a PR manager, and her boss doesn’t need coffee this morning. The reason she reached for the MacBook was so that she could ever so slyly pull up pictures of puppies online and lush over their cuteness. She has about 5 Tumblrs and 4 Instagram handles she follows just for this purpose and probably spends more time on puppy blogs than she does writing PR press releases. You hear her say things such as; “Omg, I just can’t, obsessed, this is just too much – I die,” this is her ploy for you to show your sensitive side. Truth of the matter being you’re hoping the puppies will distract her from you making an immediate departure; we all know the true reason you woke up there was because you were too drunk to get your shit together last night and her organic 500 thread count sheets were heavenly.
I don’t know how the fuck you got tricked into this if you’re just fucking her – and honestly, you’re doing a horrible job and putting in way too much effort. But needless to say, here you are helping her decide between which organic gluten free pasta would best go with her locally grown heirloom tomatoes. The only thing you’re thankful for is the fact she’s wearing Lululemon Yoga pants that are the only form of loungewear both girls and bros can agree on as a good choice. They see them as fitted sweatpants, we see them as skintight hot pants that leave little to the imagination aside from “how to get these off?” You probably ended up here because you arranged an afternoon delight meet up and she said something last minute like “oh I’m running to Whole Foods at Union Square, want to just meet me at the Farmer’s Market?” You want to bang so you agree, and you’re still drunk enough from AM brunch to think it’s a good idea. Next thing you know someone else is taking a picture of you two in front of locally grown lettuce and she is Kelvin filtering and tilt shift the fuck out of what she sees as a couples shot, hashtagging it with #casualsaturday. All you did was get drunk mid day and hit her up, little did you know you were about to be hash tagged. This is when day drinking goes wrong.
Chick Flicks…. Mainly Twilight
Did she do that move where she’s giving you a BJ and right before you’re going to cum she says “You want to see the new Twilight this week at the mid night premiere?” The only phrase you know at this point in your life is yes, but that yes did not mean yes to see said movie – it meant yes, finish this job. BUT from her POV, you just agreed to take her to Twilight. Expect a text around Tuesday or Wednesday asking if you’re still on for the mid-night premiere…..your response is you have a client dinner you totally forgot about.
Are you proposing? Have you asked yourself: “Are the sex and blow jobs worth me loosing my dignity in a plaid shirt taking photos in an orchard that will end up on The Book in an album tilted ‘Falling for Fall :).’” If you agree to apple picking, you agree to be the father of her children and next weekend you’re meeting the parents and deciding where to spend Thanksgiving. Going Apple Picking is the end to your days as a carefree bachelor and it’s a funeral to blacking out on Wednesday nights without having to check in with someone. In her eyes you have just told her: “I will do anything for you including wearing this plaid shirt with salmon – not pink – hues that we bought together at J Crew and take pics for Instagram and help you think of innovative captions such as ‘afternoon in the country #applepicking #couples #ilikeit #endofmymanhood.” Good luck coming back from this, and face it bro – this must be love.