This weekend past was challenging for both Logan and I. It all began Friday morning when I had poured some blonde hair colouring in Logans shampoo, as he is VERY particular about his hair. The shrieking from his lav when he saw his blonde top was hysterical! Thank goodness I had locked my door because he came racing down the hall and ran face first into my solid oak door, which created more for his coworkers to view upon his arrival. I’ll admit it, I checked on him and helped him with his bloody nose after I had laughed so hard that my ribs and stomach hurt.
That’s not to say I got away with it. On Saturday, I got up late and was going to go to the pub with some of my coworkers so we could share our stories about the red-headed googly eyed guy from across the alleyway. I jumped in the shower, grabbed my bodywash and started cleansing, only to discover the water was just beading up and rolling off me. Logan had put petroleum jelly in my body wash, the little bastard! Five scrubs later with regular soap and I still feel icky!
Then the little shyte went to the coffee truck I always patronize, because it’s right outside my workplace, and told the 18 year old counter person that I was in love with him AND that he made me horny. When I showed up this morning, sure enough coffee guy is making puppy eyes at me and staring at, well, it wasn’t my eyes. He asked me, in a shaky teenager voice, if I would go out with him. I was confused as to where this was coming from, I had only been polite and courteous but nothing more. That is, until I caught a glimpse of Logan hiding behind a shrubbery. Then I knew! So I smiled coyly, ran my finger along the neckline of my shirt, pulling down to where he could ALMOST see my boobless chest, and said “Come out of that van and I want you to take me right here in the park. I’ll ride you like a cowboy at a rodeo.” And then I winked. Poor boy, his eyes went wide and by the time I got to “rodeo” he blushed and excused himself. I ran over and smacked Logan on the back of his blonde head for ruining the coffee boy.
So now, it’s my turn. What to do, what to do?