- Joined
- Nov 14, 2017
- Messages
- 306
Police Encounter
Ok, so here I am on a several month pit stop in a smallish Central American town; more on that here. Iʼm splitting a rented house with a local.
The other night, my roommate had a lady cop over, still in uniform. Sheʼs his cousin‑like buddy, and they were drinking.
This wasnʼt a chick Iʼd be desperate to fuck. Sheʼs kind of big, although not in a sloppy way.. more like thick and robust. Really big hips. Face not all that cute but okay. Probably Mestiza but somewhat more towards the Maya end. Looks to have a wedding band — not that I ever give those much purchase, but I just happened to notice.
Initially I was in my room, but they coaxed me out to chat. My roommate said the lady wanted to handcuff me. I talked with her a little while, with the roomie mostly silent.
She asked me lots of questions, trying to figure me out. I answered her questions, perhaps a bit guardedly. We talked about crime in the area and which areas are or arenʼt safe to walk in. (I walk all over the damn place and tend to be pretty fearless about it. My expat buddy tells me that while the locals make a big deal over the occasional incident, this whole district is way safer than where I am from.)
I tried to deep dive a bit, though I am rusty and didnʼt have lots of leads. I did ask her what made her want to be a cop, and she related wanting to be a cop since she was small, getting uniforms when she was small, etc. She had initially presented a very cop‑like demeanor, but gradually became a little bit more friendly.
One line of her questioning was strange. When I expressed my intent to continue on to Africa, which was kind of mistaken as a “travelling the world” scenario, she queried whether I would accept a travel partner from the country Iʼm in. She was very inquisitive as to what my criteria would be for travelling with someone I might happen to meet here.
In particular, she pressed me to know, if I found such a partner, would I want him or her to have money? Or would I pay “his or her, say her,” way?
I am vehemently against spending money on pussy in any way, shape, or form, so the real answer is, “oh, Hell no.” I was reluctant to put it so bluntly, but I did basically indicate that Iʼm not inclined to pay someone elseʼs way. This was quite an awkward conversation.
Entrapment
Eventually, the lady wanted to know what I drink. Her and my roommate were drinking beer, and she had gathered that I donʼt drink beer. But she wanted to know what alcohol I like, because she wanted me to join them in drinking another time.
I indicated that I rarely drink. She nevertheless canvassed me on spirits.
Her and the roomie proposed that she would buy a bottle of whatever hard liquor I like and her and I would split it.
I need to note here that I have never been drunk in my life. And that is something I value. I am an intellectual, and I hate having things fuck with my mental faculties. I was buzzed once and I hated it. I had a small piece of a weed cookie mess with my head once and I hated it.
I donʼt want to do stupid shit. I donʼt want to say stupid shit. I do not want to divulge information I would normally not divulge, especially to a cop, for Godʼs sake, LOL. I donʼt want to lose all concept of game. I donʼt want to not remember what happened the night before. I want my dick to work! I donʼt want a hang‑over.
When I see people drunk, I feel a sort of pity and disgust, and feel quite happy for not being so foolish.
I donʼt want to normalize getting fucked up. I donʼt want to damage my organs. I donʼt want a beer belly. I donʼt want to age prematurely. I look way younger than many of my age peers, and not drinking is part of why.
I have a personal limit that I will only take one drink at an event. But even that I donʼt usually do. I only have a few drinks a year, if even.
I have longtime friends who would surely pay a monthʼs salary to see me drunk. Several have tried quite hard, and failed.
Well, this lady would not consider a single shot as even drinking with her.
Based on prior experience, I could deal with three as long as theyʼre not one after another.
Even that wasnʼt enough for her. She tried to get me to agree to five. “Whatʼs two more?” she asked. She couldnʼt justify buying a bottle if I wouldnʼt even have five. The two of them kept at me.
Did I not trust the lady, the roomie wondered? He assured me that I had nothing to worry about, and said suggestively that she would take care of me.
The lady made me feel terrible. Either it was take more booze than I am comfortable with, or else refuse to be social with her.
Iʼve occasionally felt this sort of conflict before back home, but it was more intense here... I suspect drinking is more embedded in the culture. Beer is utterly ubiquitous. My roomie gets shitfaced quite often.
I managed to duck out of the question that night, but my roomie has asked on her behalf twice more. Thereʼs a house party in a couple days, at which many police will be in attendance, and sheʼll have a bottle for me. But nobody is police there. And, Iʼm assured, nobody will speak about anything afterwards.
My roomie told me last night that this isnʼt actually a cousin but theyʼre like cousins and heʼs not sexual with her. But she was at him about me, he tells me. She likes white guys, he figures.
Whereʼs My Lawyer?!
Iʼve since looked it up, and determined that my skinny ass would probably get “sloppy drunk” from five shots, unless spaced over several hours, especially given my history of minimal alcohol. So, for the sake of my sanity, how can I possibly accept?
I almost wonder if in my refusal to experience drunkenness Iʼm being stuffy...
With that said, I donʼt see why you need to drink to have fun.
With that said, I havenʼt managed to approach one singular chick in this country (in day game), thanks to a combination of the low population and severe approach inhibition. (Again, more here.) Maybe I could use a little disinhibition?
Well, this past summer I did an experiment back home where the approach inhibition is also quite high for different reasons. At a friendʼs advice, I took a couple shots of hard liquor right before going into the megamall. It did not help in the slightest. The masks and public health rules and paranoid climate on top of my usual demographic issue were just too much and I still couldnʼt do a single approach in there.
My having socially interacted with females so dismally little especially over the past two years, there might be something to be said for taking this opportunity to at least be more social with one, rather than just saying “hi” and then walking by. But Iʼm moving soon anyway to somewhere with more favourable demographics and less “COVID” measures, so itʼs not like I have to improve while in this particular spot, especially if it means breaking my own health and wellness principles.
Iʼm really not sure whether I should go to this party and how to deal with the lady wanting me to drink way too much. More generally, I donʼt know how to deal with this sort of situation where people equate refusal to drink with being unsocial. And if this lady is actually after me, maybe I should try seducing her, for the experience.. but then again, there are some risks, not the least of which is being pressured to drink too much!
Thoughts?
Ok, so here I am on a several month pit stop in a smallish Central American town; more on that here. Iʼm splitting a rented house with a local.
The other night, my roommate had a lady cop over, still in uniform. Sheʼs his cousin‑like buddy, and they were drinking.
This wasnʼt a chick Iʼd be desperate to fuck. Sheʼs kind of big, although not in a sloppy way.. more like thick and robust. Really big hips. Face not all that cute but okay. Probably Mestiza but somewhat more towards the Maya end. Looks to have a wedding band — not that I ever give those much purchase, but I just happened to notice.
Initially I was in my room, but they coaxed me out to chat. My roommate said the lady wanted to handcuff me. I talked with her a little while, with the roomie mostly silent.
She asked me lots of questions, trying to figure me out. I answered her questions, perhaps a bit guardedly. We talked about crime in the area and which areas are or arenʼt safe to walk in. (I walk all over the damn place and tend to be pretty fearless about it. My expat buddy tells me that while the locals make a big deal over the occasional incident, this whole district is way safer than where I am from.)
I tried to deep dive a bit, though I am rusty and didnʼt have lots of leads. I did ask her what made her want to be a cop, and she related wanting to be a cop since she was small, getting uniforms when she was small, etc. She had initially presented a very cop‑like demeanor, but gradually became a little bit more friendly.
One line of her questioning was strange. When I expressed my intent to continue on to Africa, which was kind of mistaken as a “travelling the world” scenario, she queried whether I would accept a travel partner from the country Iʼm in. She was very inquisitive as to what my criteria would be for travelling with someone I might happen to meet here.
In particular, she pressed me to know, if I found such a partner, would I want him or her to have money? Or would I pay “his or her, say her,” way?
I am vehemently against spending money on pussy in any way, shape, or form, so the real answer is, “oh, Hell no.” I was reluctant to put it so bluntly, but I did basically indicate that Iʼm not inclined to pay someone elseʼs way. This was quite an awkward conversation.
Entrapment
Eventually, the lady wanted to know what I drink. Her and my roommate were drinking beer, and she had gathered that I donʼt drink beer. But she wanted to know what alcohol I like, because she wanted me to join them in drinking another time.
I indicated that I rarely drink. She nevertheless canvassed me on spirits.
Her and the roomie proposed that she would buy a bottle of whatever hard liquor I like and her and I would split it.
I need to note here that I have never been drunk in my life. And that is something I value. I am an intellectual, and I hate having things fuck with my mental faculties. I was buzzed once and I hated it. I had a small piece of a weed cookie mess with my head once and I hated it.
I donʼt want to do stupid shit. I donʼt want to say stupid shit. I do not want to divulge information I would normally not divulge, especially to a cop, for Godʼs sake, LOL. I donʼt want to lose all concept of game. I donʼt want to not remember what happened the night before. I want my dick to work! I donʼt want a hang‑over.
When I see people drunk, I feel a sort of pity and disgust, and feel quite happy for not being so foolish.
I donʼt want to normalize getting fucked up. I donʼt want to damage my organs. I donʼt want a beer belly. I donʼt want to age prematurely. I look way younger than many of my age peers, and not drinking is part of why.
I have a personal limit that I will only take one drink at an event. But even that I donʼt usually do. I only have a few drinks a year, if even.
I have longtime friends who would surely pay a monthʼs salary to see me drunk. Several have tried quite hard, and failed.
Well, this lady would not consider a single shot as even drinking with her.
Based on prior experience, I could deal with three as long as theyʼre not one after another.
Even that wasnʼt enough for her. She tried to get me to agree to five. “Whatʼs two more?” she asked. She couldnʼt justify buying a bottle if I wouldnʼt even have five. The two of them kept at me.
Did I not trust the lady, the roomie wondered? He assured me that I had nothing to worry about, and said suggestively that she would take care of me.
The lady made me feel terrible. Either it was take more booze than I am comfortable with, or else refuse to be social with her.
Iʼve occasionally felt this sort of conflict before back home, but it was more intense here... I suspect drinking is more embedded in the culture. Beer is utterly ubiquitous. My roomie gets shitfaced quite often.
I managed to duck out of the question that night, but my roomie has asked on her behalf twice more. Thereʼs a house party in a couple days, at which many police will be in attendance, and sheʼll have a bottle for me. But nobody is police there. And, Iʼm assured, nobody will speak about anything afterwards.
My roomie told me last night that this isnʼt actually a cousin but theyʼre like cousins and heʼs not sexual with her. But she was at him about me, he tells me. She likes white guys, he figures.
Whereʼs My Lawyer?!
Iʼve since looked it up, and determined that my skinny ass would probably get “sloppy drunk” from five shots, unless spaced over several hours, especially given my history of minimal alcohol. So, for the sake of my sanity, how can I possibly accept?
I almost wonder if in my refusal to experience drunkenness Iʼm being stuffy...
With that said, I donʼt see why you need to drink to have fun.
With that said, I havenʼt managed to approach one singular chick in this country (in day game), thanks to a combination of the low population and severe approach inhibition. (Again, more here.) Maybe I could use a little disinhibition?
Well, this past summer I did an experiment back home where the approach inhibition is also quite high for different reasons. At a friendʼs advice, I took a couple shots of hard liquor right before going into the megamall. It did not help in the slightest. The masks and public health rules and paranoid climate on top of my usual demographic issue were just too much and I still couldnʼt do a single approach in there.
My having socially interacted with females so dismally little especially over the past two years, there might be something to be said for taking this opportunity to at least be more social with one, rather than just saying “hi” and then walking by. But Iʼm moving soon anyway to somewhere with more favourable demographics and less “COVID” measures, so itʼs not like I have to improve while in this particular spot, especially if it means breaking my own health and wellness principles.
Iʼm really not sure whether I should go to this party and how to deal with the lady wanting me to drink way too much. More generally, I donʼt know how to deal with this sort of situation where people equate refusal to drink with being unsocial. And if this lady is actually after me, maybe I should try seducing her, for the experience.. but then again, there are some risks, not the least of which is being pressured to drink too much!
Thoughts?
