The Player

“I was a drunken whore master.”

These were Todd’s exact words to me, describing himself. [This is a post about him, a guy I’ve known for years, who repeatedly tried to sleep with me and repeatedly failed.]

I was impressed with his honesty. It also made me laugh. It was funny.

And also sad.

But there are thousands of Todd’s. They are everywhere.

Guys who would fuck any girl who is willing to put out.

And according to Todd, most girls are easy prey. All he’d have to do was buy them a few drinks and tell them they were pretty.

Two shots later and BOOM. She’s naked in your bed.

“So easy”, he’d say.

But empty. Sad. Pathetic.

Todd slept with 2, 3, sometimes even 4 girls, in a single week. Leaving a trail of broken hearts and some very confused and upset women, along the way.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want any girl. He just wanted to get laid. He talked about it as casually as discussing the weather.

Then one day, after a bad day at work, he stopped at a bar. He’d stopped there a 100 times before. He had seen her there a few times.

Sometimes they’d even make small talk. That particular night, the bar was empty. He moved a seat closer.

He bought her a drink.

She smiled and thanked him. One hour turned into two… Two drinks turned into… many.

He couldn’t remember the details. “All I remember is her….”

That night, Todd took her back to his apartment. On the way, he stopped at a liquor store. He ran inside and minutes later, returned with an expensive bottle of red wine.

“I don’t care for red,” she said.

“Should I run in and get you a bottle of white?” he asked.

He aimed to please. She politely declined. They left.

Todd had all the things you would imagine a Player to have: a brand new loaded BMW, a great apartment, an amazing job. And he was very attractive.

Short, dark hair. Perfectly dressed. Expensive jeans. A sexy, striped button down shirt. His eyes were dark. Smoldering.

He stared at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking. 

He popped open the bottle of wine.

She was nervous. She guzzled it to calm her nerves.

They made small talk. He moved closer. She darted away. She needed more wine.

She looked in his refrigerator. It was overflowing with beer and little else.

More wine. Flirting. Kissing…

Two hours later, they were naked in his bed. A huge beautiful, antique-looking wooden mirror leaned up against his wall. An odd piece for a Player to have. It showed he had dimension. Some class. An appreciation for beautiful pieces of old furniture.

She liked it.

She grabbed her black dress and heels, got dressed and left. She needed to go home.

He stood in the doorway, barely clothed and watched her walk to her car. He missed her before she had even left.

Todd stopped seeing other women. All he could think about was her.

She wasn’t the most beautiful girl. But she was quite striking. Soft blonde hair that grazed her shoulders. Pretty green eyes.

Her body bore the faint scars of having children. It was not perfect. He didn’t care.

He thought she was beautiful.

And she was smart, funny, cute.

Irresistible.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.

Soon.

He couldn’t wait. He texted her and emailed her. Sent an extravagant bouquet of calla lilies and white roses to her at work.

What the fuck had happened to him?

He didn’t even recognize himself.

Soon they were seeing each other frequently. The sex was amazing. Electric.

But it was more than that.

He was falling in love with her. And she felt the same.

Todd had never been the romantic type. But one night he told her: “I care for you so much, it scares me. I want you to know how much I love you.”

She was touched. “You are amazing, Todd.”

He replied, “No I am NOT amazing. When I look at you, all these words just come pouring out of me. I’m not amazing. I’m just being genuine. This is what you do to me. This is how you make me feel.”


If they are lucky, even the most promiscuous man (or woman), will meet a person who will change them.

Turn their world upside-fucking-down.

The trick is finding a person who will reciprocate that all-consuming love.

A person who earns it. Respects and protects it.

Makes you feel like anything is possible.

If you find that… hold onto it.

Never let it go.

[Update: A few months later, this girl dumped Todd and completely broke his heart. Perhaps proving that karma does in fact exist. I don’t know. It’s not for me to say.]

The Taste Of You #MMCM Mirtha Michelle: Mirtha Michel, Michel Castro, Letters

The Taste Of You #MMCM Mirtha Michelle: Mirtha Michel, Michel Castro, Letters

 

 

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3 thoughts on “The Player

  1. I like this… A lot.

    But…

    You need to cut back on the bold letters. Makes you writing look less serious.

    And when pack too many “truths” at the end the power loses focus. Stick to just one or two.

    Yer a fabulous writer and it obviously comes from the soul. Please keep posting.

    Thanks

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