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I Got Stuckied -Z- by -Z-

I got to meet THIS guy the other night

Figuratively speaking, of course.  I’ve got no beef with Jason Alexander, personally.

Remember Stucky from Pretty Woman?

Remember Stucky from Pretty Woman?

 Remember that scene from Pretty Woman, where Richard Gere’s friend puts the moves on Julia Roberts?  Well… my recent experience after the jump.

To make a long story short, I was out with my NSA and a couple of his friends the other night.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with the terminology, NSA stands for No Strings Attached.  After having a shite boyfriend for 4 years, I’m a wee reluctant to be “Girlfriend Girl” again.  Lucky for me, I’ve found myself the perfect situation.  My NSA is  fun, a good person, a good friend, and gives me great sexo.

I hang out with him and his group of friends pretty regularly, they’re all aware of the NSA situation and know they’d get a punch to the mouf if they used the term girlfriend/boyfriend around me.  The other night, the NSA, two of his friends, and myself were out playing bar dice at this seedy joint by my apartment.  My NSA was pretty wastey, and getting pretty touchy feely with me (he’s timid like a school girl when he’s sober). 

One of his friends was on my left side and kept asking me why I chose my NSA.  The following were some of his comments on the matter:

“Have you seen his apartment? It’s gross, mine is way cleaner…I’m way more put together”

“I even have to do his taxes, he’s stupid with money.”

“Why him? Look at him, he’s grabbing you, and hugging you, and is a drunk idiot.  He’s allowed to just grab you like that? I can’t believe you’re going home with that guy.”

Then, when my NSA is engaged in a conversation with the bartender, Stucky Guy runs his finger up my left leg.  I sharply pulled my leg away and grabbed the NSA.

At one point, Stucky Guy called me a bitch when I won the dice game, which didn’t really bother me , I just figured it was a sporting epithet (I had been insulting his mom earlier so I assumed it was just par for the course).  My NSA got pissed at him though and flipped, telling Stucky Guy that he better not ever call me that again or he’d get a punch in the face blah blah blah… (like when Richard Gere punches Stucky in Pretty Woman? Hah!)

So after explaining the situation to both .m. and Miss D, they BOTH immediately thought of Stucky from Pretty Woman.  Clearly, the fucking misogynist assumed that since I wasn’t NSA’s girlfriend, but was still sleeping with him, I must be a whore.  And if I was sleeping with my NSA (who Stucky Guy thought was less worthy than himself), then surely I would sleep with him…..right? 

It sucks that jagoffs like this still exist.  Not only did he disrespect me, but he also disrespected his friend. 

Obv he can’t wrap his tiny brain around the possibility that JUST MAYBE women don’t solely fit into a Madonna/Whore dichotomy.  It is inconceivable to douchebags like that for a woman to make responsible sexual and emotional decisions for herself that don’t fit into the narrow definitions Stuckies deem “appropriate womanhood.” The sense of entitlement guys like this exhibit is so infuriating.  If she’s sleeping with a guy…but doesn’t have a ring on her finger, or his pin on her 1950’s cardigan, she must be a slut. These are the kinds of guys that make rape statistics.

In conclusion, I’ll be telling my NSA never to leave me alone with Stucky Guy.  And if perchance this happens, Stucky Guy will most likely be getting a very angry emasculating knee to his tiny worthless junk.


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