A {text} conversation with JBelt.

JBelt (5:35 pm): Drinking? Tomorrow? Or perhaps bare-knuckle punching? I’m going to fencing tonight.

Lucky (9:40 pm): I’m gonna have to witness some fencing to appreciate it more.

(10:36 pm): Just got done. You could come by Thursday late, if you really want to see some.

(12:28 am): A practice or a real duel (match)? I’m gonna need to Google.

(12:33 am): Yeah…we don’t really fight duels anymore, Lucky. In fact, it’s been illegal for almost 200 years. Practice from 7 to 8:30 or so, open fencing until ten…Bouts. They’re called bouts. We should YouTube some so you know what you’re looking at. The rules are complex, so it can be tough on spectators. That’s why you don’t see much fan merch.

(12:38 am): Well I didn’t think you were going to slice someone’s face off or anything. Rule #1: Don’t call it a duel. Sheesh!

(12:39 am): Tee hee. I suppose I took advantage of you a little, but it was irresistible. I will make it up to you with a beer and YouTube.

(12:41 am): I swear I’m not an idiot. But I am a natural blonde. Shit happens!

(12:41 am): I don’t think you’re an idiot at all. Not one bit.

(12:47 am): About how many people come to the practices?

(12:47 am): Maybe 12-15. Less if it’s hot outside.

(12:48 am): That’s not too bad.

(12:50 am): Too bad? What do you mean? And, why are you still up?

(12:51 am): It’s more people than I expected it what I meant. Yet not a ton of people. Still up because the boxing gets my mind kind of wired.

(12:52 am): I know exactly what you mean.

(12:53 am): My body is dead. But I notice I’m usually pretty energetic afterward. And sometimes I’m completely pissed off. Really pissed.

(12:54 am): Pissed off? It’s supposed to be cathartic.

(12:55 am): Yeah…when I’m punching the bag I think about shit that pisses me off. And I guess it lingers.

(12:56 am): Fair enough. I boxed in the Navy I get the same stuff, the endorphins and adrenaline, from fencing, too. Tons of energy. Sometimes the wrong kind of energy.

(12:57 am): Wrong kind of energy?

(12:58 am): The cold shower kind. Or, just fast-mind insomnia—too much to recall, nothing to do with it, no rest but hours of lying awake.

(12:59 am): I gotcha. Is that why you’re up?

(1:00 am): Indeed. Melatonin. Soon.

(1:01 am): I will drift soon enough. I wish it was still raining out.

(1:02 am): Why?

(1:02 am): I love the sound.

(1:05 am): I like the thunder. The rain doesn’t really show up for me here. Can’t hear it.

(1:07 am): Really? And you have an actual roof. I have an apt above mine.

(1:18 am): Not much, anyway. Tell me not to start a movie. Tell me to eat sleepy pills and go to bed.

(1:19 am): Time for bed, Dave. No movies!

(1:22 am): I’m all awake and stuff. I feel pent up. I might have an endorphin allergy.

(1:23 am): Sounds like you’ve succumbed.

(1:23 am): I’m still here.

(1:24 am): Has your boxing rage worn off?

(1:25 am): I wasn’t too pissed off today actually. In my class yesterday this dude next to me was trying to hit on me the whole time. That REALLY pissed me off.

(1:26 am): Did you whip his ass?

(1:28 am): When it came time for a little partner work he immediately claimed me. I wanted to punch him in his beer gut.

(1:29 am): But didn’t?

(1:31 am): No. We were doing situps passing a medicine ball back and forth. The best I could do was aim for his face with the 13 ponder. See? Now I’m getting pissed.

(1:33 am): Excellent.

(1:34 am): I went on a few nightmare dates a little while ago and I suppose the subject of dating in general pisses me off.

(1:35 am): I’m not counted on the “nightmare” list, am I? How bad were they?

(1:36 am): No this was just a week ago. One guy still had a gf, so it was interesting when he flipped his shit thinking she found out. The other I didn’t know was a date. It was a friend of mine who I thought we were going to a movie. Instead he confessed to liking me and tried to kiss me.

(1:37 am): Poor baby. That’s pretty rugged. The second an old friend?

(1:38 am): We’d known each other for 3 years, and really, I’m not attracted to him at all. So it was really awkward and I was really caught off guard, although when it comes to dating he’s so forward and cocky it was kind of scary. He was saying all kinds of weird shit.

(1:42 am): Shitfire. What sort of weird shit? You seem fairly resistant to that to me.

(1:43 am): He moved out of state, and we really hadn’t kept in touch but he had to do some stuff here so we made plans. I thought it was innocent so I was pretty excited to catch up. He said “when we worked together I wanted to ask you out” so I thought it was past tense. Then he tried to hold my hand.

(1:43 am): Oh for gods sake. That doesn’t sound that bad.

(1:44 am): After the movie he was saying stuff like “are you going to give me a reason to come back more often” what the fuck?! He also also asked me if I ever slept naked. What. The. Fuck.

(1:44 am): Okay. That’s pretty fucked. Creeper.

(1:47 am): How on earth did I not weird you out? That’s still surprising to me.

(1:50 am): I suppose to someone who actually liked him that stuff wouldn’t be weird. So I guess if you did anything weird maybe I overlooked it. But I don’t recall it.

(1:52 am): I didn’t DO anything weird, I just AM a little weird.

(1:54 am): Well you didn’t say anything scary. Here’s the bottom line. If I don’t want to eventually fuck the guy, it won’t work. Sounds slutty. But it’s true.

(1:56 am): I take that as a premium compliment. And slutty is an antiquated term.

(1:58 am): I just figure you have to have something physically plus the chemistry…or else every little quirk is going to be annoying. But, I’m no dating expert.

(2:04 am): I am also a novice. Of sorts. That’s probably not the right word at all, but I think you know what I mean.

(2:05 am): Yeah. I went through a breakup after three years last summer. Since then, dating is just different. And often, it’s a hassle.

(2:08 am): I’ve had several of the long ones like that. It changes things, a bit. Harder to take things seriously, or to risk much at all.

(2:09 am): Exactly. Did you take your sleepy pills yet or you went against what I said and are watching a movie?

(2:10 am): And by the way, I’m of course attracted to you, too. I can’t believe I had any self control with you at all. You are quite charming, and plenty hot to boot.

(2:10 am): Niether. In bed, mulling. Not the regular kind of sleepy yet. You about to cash in?

(2:12 am): No, I just didn’t want to bore you with my embarrassing dating stories any longer.

(2:12 am): Not at all! You’re fine.

(2:13 am): Thank you for the compliments. I won’t buy that I’m charming. Hot? Okay. Charming? Hrmmm…

(2:13 am) You are plenty charming. I’m rarely attracted to blondes or busts…as odd as that sounds. You are hot in a different way than that. You are hot as a writer, and you have good locomotion. In a variety of situations.

(2:15 am): I felt like I scared you off by saying I had a crush on you and I definitely was not trying to jump into anything.

(2:18 am) I know. But the reality was, any commitment at all would’ve been too much. I know you, and I like you—quite a bit. And I would, naturally, love to fuck. But I don’t want to be that guy…I knew I wasn’t ready for anything at all.

(2:20 am) You weren’t, and aren’t, that guy. I was, and still am, weary that we won’t be able to hang out at all. I don’t want that. And, what’s so wrong with boobs?!?!

 (2:20 am): Nothing. In fact, yours are delightful, and I’ve replayed the experience over many times (especially the arching of which you bragged…that text put me in an awkward public situation, so you know). As I said, you are the exception; I was plenty attracted.

(2:21 am): HA sorry!

(2:21 am): We can hang out. I just hate being a douche, and sometimes I am one. …no worries, it was absolutely worth the glares.

(2:24 am): Wait…how did people see the text? Did you have your phone on a projector screen?

(2:25 am): No, Lucky. Jesus. It gave me an erection, goofy. I will withhold blonde joke.

(2:26 am): Well I didn’t know!!! Fuck.

(2:27 am): Dammit…now my mind is very much in the gutter. Thanks, Lucky.

(2:27 am) I honestly thought you meant someone saw the text. Silly.

(2:28 am): No, but when I saw it I was definitely like, ‘sweet Christ, what’s she trying to pull here?’

(2:30 am): I wasn’t trying to stir it up. Really. It was the truth. Now I know not to tell you that shit.

(2:32 am) I didn’t say that. It was a delightful message to receive. Only oddly timed. I was just looking for it again…too bad I can’t find it.

(2:36 am): What happened to it?!

(2:40 am): I give up. I’m just being creepy now. I don’t know what I want with it anyway, we’re having a conversation. Just thinking about it this late at night has me plenty turned on. I fear a cold shower awaits.

(2:41 am): A cold shower. Does that shit really help?

(2:41 am): No.

(2:42 am): I didn’t realize the text was that hot.

(2:43 am): It probably wasn’t…but the arching certainly was. It’s too late. My mind has wandered, and apparently decided to be a creeper.

(2:46 am): You’re not a creeper.

(2:47 am): You falling asleep?

(2:48 am): No. Are you trying to get rid of me yet?

(2:48 am): No.

(2:50 am): I’m watching an episode of Sex and the City.

(2:50 am): Oh no! I’m trying to get my mind back in a wholesome place, perhaps…

(2:50 am): Don’t worry. It’s on TV. It’s so watered down. Nothing racy.

(2:52 am): Shall I leave you to it? And, wow…

(2:52 am): And wow, what???

(2:52 am): Sex and the City. It was a very mild jab.

(2:53 am): Every guy gives women shit for Sex and The City. It’s just candy.

(2:55 am): The other day you said the chick lit you were reading had gotten a little steamy. I laughed at that, too.

(2:55 am): That’s why I told you. I think it’s funny that I read that shit. But you know what? I like it and I’m not ashamed.

(2:56 am): I knew that was your intention in telling. Charming. It was noted. Makes you cuter.

(2:56 am): I always assume Nicholas Sparks is the laughing stock of his poker night. But he has a ton of books. They’re all the same, but still.

(2:57 am): I don’t know him. Shoot. We should’ve started chatting earlier. Fencing…damn.

(2:58 am): I use the chick lit to break it up. Now, I’m reading Congo. Not sexy. At all.

(2:59 am): Michael Chrichton is my chick lit. And no, not sexy. Guilty pleasure. I realize how arrogant that sounded. Please consider it retroactively tempered.

(3:00 am): Really? I never would’ve thought that. This is my first.

(3:03 am): They are great. Jurassic Park ensured I would be teased throughout middle school. I’m rereading Gatsby. You should bring yours in Friday. Reading and a beer after the meeting. Real hot times, and cheap.

(3:05 am): I definitely won’t be at the meeting Friday. Rain check. I know you’re sad.

(3:06 am): I am sad! What are you doing?

(3:06 am): I’m going out of town for another bachelorette weekend.

(3:07 am): Jesus. Maybe Thursday?

(3:08 am): Sure.

(3:09 am): Perfect. I think I’m fading. Somewhat.

(3:09 am): Alright. Sleepy time.

(3:10 am) Adieu, my dear.

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6 thoughts on “A {text} conversation with JBelt.

  1. Matthew says:

    Wow…that conversation had everything.

    And just for record (probably because I’m a guy) even I picked up on the fact he meant your text caused a ‘visual indicator of arrousal’.

    • I had no idea AT ALL. Sounds naive but I didn’t think guys got boners from text messages?? I dont know…

      BTW. The text he is referring to is one I sent after the bartle and james—apparently I had arched my back so much out of pleasure 😉 that my muscles were sore.

      I swear I’m innocent.

      -L

  2. Don’t get a chubby.

    HOW is that that hot? He’s the one that did it, not me.

    -L

  3. I KNOW THAT.

    argh.

    I meant. He’s the one that made my back arch, not me.

    This conversation is over.

    -L

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