Trifling

While watching Lord of War at the Brazilian's, I idly began playing with a hair clip on the coffee table. I clipped my shirt, then my pants, and back to my shirt to my belly through the shirt, and idly on to the skin of my arms. I hardly noticed what I was doing till I clamped down on a nipples, that most inexplicable aspect of the male anatomy. I gasped at the sensation, surprising but not unwelcome, and then continued to experiment, more consciously now. I returned frequently to the highlight of my experimentation. If the Brazilian were not asleep and grumpy, I might have gone to try my new discovery on her. Now, sitting in front of my computer, my nipples ache and I'm fiercely annoyed. I expect the Brazilian will experience an act of petty cruelty on my part some time shortly. It's not misogynistic. If the best friend turned me out of his place at 2.39 in the AM, he would probably experience pain in some manner shortly after. Three more weeks before she leaves the country. I'm uncertain about Boston girl, who managed to get on my nerves with an act of selective hearing last night, thus making her the nine trillionth person on my case currently. I feel trifled with and I don't like having that feeling when I'm earnestly attempting a new relationship. Perhaps this is a bad idea. Perhaps I'm being a whiny baby. We'll see in the morning.