Objectifying Men: Aria Fail #1

Aria Fail #1

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I'm going to start this by saying that I was already irritated that I had to drive to the strip to meet this guy. However, he assured me that he had a room at the Aria that we could use. That didn't exactly end up being true... but more about that later.

When I arrived, he was still at the nightclub. I asked him to come out and meet me, and told him I would be standing at the only pastry shop in the casino (which is like 20 ft away from the nightclub).

I waited there, standing alone at a closed bakery shop (like a jackass) for at least 10 minutes before I gave him a call.

"I am the only 6-ft tall blonde wearing a pink skirt who is standing outside the pastry shop."

"Oh I think I see you. Turn around."

So I turned around and tried to smile, even though I hated him already.

"Oh ok. Now walk forward," he said.

So I walked forward, thinking he was guiding me to him.

"Now walk backward."

"Are you fucking kidding me??" I whisper-yelled into the phone. "Come over here right now!"

"Oh, ok, I'll come over."

When he walked up and said hello, it was apparent that he was at least 3 inches shorter than he had told me. Bullshit!

But I was already there, and the dick pic he sent was really appealing... so I told him we would go right up to his room.

On the way there, he took the opportunity to ask me everything about everything, starting with how I liked living in Vegas. He then started asking me about my hopes and dreams, which I just laughed at.

When we finally got down the hallway, he swiped his room key and stepped in. Just as quickly, he backed out of it and closed the door. So we were both standing in the hallway again...

"What's the problem?" I asked in the nicest voice I could muster.

"Oh, well I think my roommate might be in there," he answered as though it was legit.

"Well... will you find out please?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"Well we could just, you know, go in the bathroom," he suggested.

Really??? You would think I would be used to their stupid shenanigans by now... but apparently not.

"I'm not having sex with you in a bathroom," I replied, exasperated.

"Oh no," he said condescendingly, "you don't understand; the Aria has really nice bathrooms."

Actually, this is true. I knew this from my many experiences sleeping with men who were staying there.

In the interest of full disclosure, I have fooled around with a guy in the shower there... but that guy was hotter and taller than this one. And, the action did not stay in the bathroom.

"No."

"Why not?" he asked as though I was being unreasonable in my demands.

"Because I don't have anonymous sex in bathrooms.. because I'm not a truck-stop hooker."

"Well just come in and see the bathroom." As though being bent over a marble sink would make all the difference over a composite one.

"Yeah... no. I can't handle this. I should just go."

"So you need a bed?" he said with a smirk, as though I had just made a Beyonce-esque request for 1000-count satin sheets and down-feather pillows.

"Yes, and don't act like that is unreasonable."

Fucking prick.

"Ok, well what if we used the bed and my roommate turned around?"

"You mean like if he faced the wall? Like a children's time-out?"

If he had looked like Terrell Owens, I would have helped him brainstorm solutions. But no.

"No," I added, just in case he didn't pickup on my horrified sarcasm.

"So, what about the bathroom?" he tried.

"I'm leaving."

"No, don't leave. You can't leave. I'm already hard."

"I don't care."

I started to walk away and he grabbed my wrist.

"You can't leave yet."

I pulled by arm away, screamed at him, and stormed away down the hall.

Then I texted Dr. Big Dick and made arrangements for 45 minutes later.