Panties & Porkchops: When Booty Calls Go Wrong

Panties & Porkchops follows the life of Keri Lathan, a chick who doesn’t mind documenting her obsession with sexual taboos and the midnight snacking that ensues.

I really do hope that my mother isn’t reading this, but I just want to confess to the world that I’m a big fan of booty calls. Why wouldn’t I be? They’re often very direct, I mean, you are never really at a loss for what’s really going on. There are no convoluted mind games involved, just two people losing some calories together. On the flip side, when does a booty call ever go wrong? When the guy decides that he wants to “talk”.

Let’s just say that this guy’s name is “Buster” because in actuality, that’s what he is. Buster has been my on and off booty call for a couple of weeks now. We meet once a week, have sex, and go home. It’s great! So I got a text from Buster last week asking me what I was doing, I immediately told him that I was “taking a shower”. What I was really doing was rubbing my dog’s belly, but that’s besides the point. I KNEW the shower comment would immediately turn into a conversation about sex and frankly, I was in dire need of it. Much to my surprise, Buster starts talking to me about his day. “So-and-so decided to take my parking space at work, and when I confronted him about it he acted totally odd and now I don’t know if we’re cool anymore.”

I was a bit taken aback by him confiding in me, and I really didn’t want to get deeper into the situation so I decided not to text him back. After which he texted me AGAIN and told me about the rest of his boring day. I thought to myself, so are we going to do it tonight or what? Not one to keep things to myself, I decided to ask him that same question. No reply. Surprise, surprise, he hasn’t texted me in a week.

Which makes me wonder, why even text me in the first place? I’m not your girlfriend. Our interactions with one another involve one of us on top of the other and vice versa. When did we turn into Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle or wait, wrong movie, I meant You’ve Got Mail? So to all the Busters out there in the world, don’t ruin a good time with “talking”. Some girls out there will just think you’re wasting their time and blog about your lameness.