I left Los Angeles when I was 19 and didn’t come back until I was in my 30’s.  Because I was away so much, I rarely brought anyone to meet my parents.   #58 was an exception.

I was living in New York and just visiting LA for a week when I met #58 through a mutual friend.  He was hysterically funny and smart. Big turn-ons.  Which he needed since he wasn’t so easy on the eyes.  But I gave him my number because he was a great flirt.  Also I was headed back to New York and wouldn’t have to look at him.

We talked on the phone a lot and through IM.  It was fun.  Conveniently enough, he had planned a trip to the East Coast and I was there, waiting for him with open legs.  It was only so/so.   But #58 was so charming, I thought I’d give him another chance.  That came a month later when I went home to LA, for Christmas.   He had nothing to do for the holiday so I invited him to dinner with my family.

He offered to bring wine and I informed him that my parents loved wine, especially good wine.  He didn’t bat an eye.

“Of course.  I know just the vintage.   I’ll get two bottles.”

I was excited.  Not only was he interesting and funny and smart, he had class.  Or so I thought.   He didn’t have a car, so he borrowed his ex-girlfriend’s New Beetle and headed to my parent’s house.  And when he got to the door, he was empty handed.  He told me that he had dropped one of the bottles when he was getting it out of the bag and then, the other one when he was trying to clean up.

I’ve been lied to before but I was filled with the Christmas spirit and chose to give him the benefit of the doubt.  I like to temper my aggressive personality with a little naiveté.  I think it makes for a nice mix.  Over dinner he regaled us with tales of the winery and the year.  We all said it was a shame and opened another bottle from my dad’s cellar.

After dinner, I walked him to his ex-girlfriend’s car and fucked him in the front seat.    Liar or no liar, I was drunk and horny.  While he might not have had wine, he had a perfectly good cock and that was enough for me.  Merry Christmas.

Moral of the story, an imaginary Rodney Strong is better than a physical Three Buck Chuck.