The Waitress

No pic this time (so sue me). I just got back from the Winnie, and as I half expected, the waitress I'm interested in was there. We chatted a little and shared some laughs, and I learned pretty much everything I needed to know about her in order to figure out exactly how I feel.

I'm gonna lay it out here and now for myself (and the one of U reading this, who probably stopped after the first sentence). And, if I manage to grow a set of balls by next week, I'll be telling her.

I like her. She's funny and intelligent and has great ass -- and I probably couldn't have been bothered to notice her ass if it weren't for her great personality. I want to be her friend, and I want to fuck her (and if she doesn't want to fuck me, well that's just fine too). She's crazy enough to be a muse (I know, I've found one or two muses whom I regret not having balls enough to tell them that they were/are wonderful people -- and I regret blowing any chance I may have had to fuck them, Tao knows I deampt about it often enough), and as soon as I can gather a couple of pieces of equipment, I want to photograph her without any clothes on. I want her to be my first nude model.

AND

Yes, as far as I know her, I love her, unconditionally, unreservedly and non-exclusively. I'm not expecting any sort of happily-ever-after-Hollywood/Disney-false-romantic-crap. If anything does come of this, I want her -- I expect her -- to fuck anyone that she wants to, any time she wants to.

And now I'm going to bed, because I'm tired.
Goodnight.