Just a week ago, I was at home lazily wondering where I should go, both online and IRL to get myself a date for Valentine's Day (See the "Tales and Stories of Casual Sex : The Introvert Edition" to know why I'm actually being so lazy about it).
As a single person who has no desire to settle down (if it happens, it happens), finding a date doesn't mean looking for a real potential partner, but really just find someone to spend some good moments with. So on that week of early February, part of me wanted not to potentially have to bear my upstairs neighbour's date on my own without having to leave my apartment, and the other blatantly wanted to fuck, I'm not gonna lie.
As I already said before on here though, being introverted and socially awkward doesn't help at all and also, being physically tired on a daily basis like I am doesn't either (not going into details, but I don't have the best health), yet, there was that little voice inside who was literally telling me "You're getting some this weekend".
I was laughing at it with all my might (I mean, I wasn't leaving my drawing desk and I knew inside I wasn't going to do so...), until a guy popped out of nowhere / actually from 3 years ago / on my phone. A few texts and half a day later, the smutty weekend prophecy did take place.
And on top of that, my neighbour didn't have a date. That, or they were dead silent, which is fine by me. I do feel a bit sorry though, for I'm not the silent type. Not too sorry, but yeah.
Before you judge, live with my upstairs neighbour above you for a week. He's a noisy jerk.