Ginger Snap

One of the things I love about living in Chicago is seeing the mood of the people who visit me from the provinces---everything is soooo big and sooo exciting and the people are soooo hip and well-dressed and it's all big-eyed wonder and if my visitor is female and I am so inclined it tends to make her much more receptive to my advances. That doesn't necessarily mean that we'll pass out from exhaustion next to an empty box of Durex condoms and a bottle of K-Y jelly, but it does mean that I have less work to do to impress her.

Yes, Ginger arrived this weekend from the Wisconsin border. I met her at the train and she was exactly what I expected from her pics and her emails: red-headed, petit, trim and inclined to use words like "gee" and "gosh" a lot. We went to Small Bar in Ukrainian Village for lunch (she said ahead of time that she wasn't into fancy foods, and tends to like meat and potatoes. A brie-burger would have been pushing it) and we ordered up a pair of their organic burgers.

From there, it was back to my apartment. I put on some music and we started making out. I was pleased with her body---so many women in their mid-thirties let themselves go to pot, especially when they're married. Her ass was small enough for me to get a hand firmly over each bun. Nice. Also, her breasts were firm and pert.

We fell asleep after an energetic bout of lovemaking, woke up and went at it again. However, as I was working on her from behind I felt a sharp pain in my calfs and had to roll over. She looked up to see me moaning, in pain.

"Cramps," I explained, "I run a lot and I often get them...."

My erection disappeared almost immediately.

Five minutes later, however, all was well and the finish was.....nice. She tasted good, too, which is always a plus.

She told me she couldn't spend the night, which was OK with me---she is still married, so discretion is the key here. I decided to call Len and see if he wanted to come up to see a Bears game, either live or on TV.

"I was thinking about coming up tonight. I need to think of a reason not to."

Five minutes later he sent a text: "I'm on my way."

This would be the first test for Ginger. Christy would have failed miserably. I never introduced her to Len because she wouldn't have mixed well. She tended to be clingy and resent anything that took some of my attention away from her.

Ginger, however, was just fine, being her usual chirpy, chatty self. We all went out for pizza at Piece and Len offered to pick up the tab. I resisted the temptation to order two bottles of their most expensive wine and asked Ginger what she liked and didn't like on her pizza.

"I only like traditional pizza---I only like sausage and pepperoni. No veggies or mushrooms."

Len broke in: "When you're in here, you have to order something you wouldn't normally eat. I used to be just like you, but you have to try it. Their pizza is really good."

Ginger, however, was unmoved by our pleas so we decided to go the traditinal route. The pizza was excellent but I was unable to persuade her to try one of Piece's kick-ass microbrews---when informed that they didn't carry Miller, she ordered a Budweiser.

Take away one point for plebeian tastes.

After dinner, we went for drinks at a bar/restaurant where Urban Melissa's boyfriend was playing in a jazz combo. This would be test number two, which Christy had failed miserably. Grandpa and Waffle would be perfectly nice, but readers of this blog know how Urban Melissa and Guatemala can be. That's just how they roll.

"Oh," said Urban Melissa, "nice to meet you. How did you two meet?"

"Myspace," said Ginger.

"Another one?"

Ginger laughed. Add one point for sense of humor.

We hung out and I probably drank a few more whiskey on the rocks than I intended. We were easily the loudest table. Well, if people don't know how to have fun in a restaurant, fuck 'em.

I left around 11:30 to see Ginger to a cab and ended up going home myself. Len apparently sent me a text informing me that he was at Nick's but I was unaware of this until he drunkenly barged into my room and rousted me from my sleep.

"I sent you a text! Why didn't you go to Nick's?"

I knew that the quickest way to get rid of him would be to play dead. Which I did. And which it did. When I woke up the next morning for my eight-mile-run-hangover-cure, I checked my texts and noticed a booty call from Marla at 12:00. followed by a follow-up at 4:30:

"Missed you at Nick's."

So she had decided to come to my neighborhood to party. That could have been interesting. Not sure how I would have handled her seeing me with someone else. I'm in the clear: I never promised exclusivity and I didn't break plans with her, but it would be a bit embarrassing. Whatever followed, I don't think it would have been an invitation to a threesome.

Anyway, Ginger emailed Len for the dirt on me and Len, like a good mensch, told her that she'll have fun with me when she comes in but to remember that I like being single, tend to date a lot of girls and have no patience for drama. She emailed back that she kinda figured it out. Then she emailed me, telling me that she would probably flirt with Len, because that's what she does, but that it is my hands she wants all over her body. She's promised me a striptease to Joe Cocker's Leave Your Hat On. And she claims that she's never even seen 9 1/2 Weeks.

This could be fun.