Meeting Ann

I spent the day with Ann St. Vincent on Sunday. You know you guys are jealous. And you should be.

 

Before we met, I’d had this image of her in my head. Something like a cross between Anne Bancroft in  Mrs Robinson, but blonde and blue eyed, but with the hairstyle of Tippi Hedren in The Birds. I don’t know why I was imagining her as some woman from the 60s. She is barely older than myself.

I just noticed they are both smoking.

And in the same pose.

I tried not to build her up too much in my mind before I met her. After reading her blog it is almost impossible not to. But I needn’t have worried. She was as charming as she seems to be on her blog. And just as funny too.

 

When I first got to her hotel, I got a little worried. It was fancy. Way fancier than any place I’d normally be comfortable. And I wasn’t comfortable.

 

She had me valet my car which is really only something I’ve done at the fancy-pants Emergency Room I go to. When I walked into the lobby it smelled like money and sexy man cologne.

 

I went into the hotel’s bathroom to pee before going up to meet her. The bathroom STALL was bigger and classier than my entire bathroom in my apartment. It had a frosted glass door for fuck’s sake.

20141102_103010

Seriously, look at this beautiful place!

When I finished, I went to wash my hands. I coated them in liquid hand soap and then paused. There was no knob to the faucet so I expectantly put my hands under the sink, expecting it to be an automatic. But nothing happened.

 

I looked around. Was I missing something? I started twisting things and pressing things. It was like trying to play a game of bop it.

 

I held my hands under the faucet again. I tend to have issues with automatic dispensers. I can only assume because I do not have a soul.

I haven’t walked into one yet, though.

But nothing happened. I started pressing more and more unlikely things. I was pushing on random tiles in the wall. Like it was some secret passage in a castle that would lead me to the land of water.

 

And still, I couldn’t figure out the magical combination to get that damn sink to turn on. It was like the three seashells in Demolition Man. I was just stuck, with my hands covered in soap. What I really needed was an adult, but they are never around when you really need one.

Look J, a three seashells joke for you.

So I finally broke down and rinsed them with the water in my water bottle.

 

I went back out into the lobby feeling like a failure. I couldn’t even pass the first fancy person test of washing my hands in the bathroom. An entire family was mean mugging me while I waited for Ann to come meet me. I was starting to regret the whole thing.

 

And then I met Ann. She greeted me with a big hug. Which I normally don’t like, but for some reason, it was okay with her. I suspect she just has that ability to put people at ease.

 

She completely swept me off my feet. She paid for my valet parking. She bought me lunch. I felt like the prostitute in Pretty Woman, only less pretty. I joked several times that I was going to swoon. If she was trying to get into my pants, it was totally working.

My outfit wasn’t that bad. I hope.

But she wasn’t.

 

We talked until my throat was sore. She is an excellent conversationalist too. I was my typical weirdo self. We talked about everything from my usual serial killers and cannibalism to sex and the hilarity of unsolicited dick pics.

 

We even got to talk about the real problems with lesbian porn (fake fingernails, fingering, and probably some gross vaginal bacterial infections from funky fake fingernails). My issues with betiality (lack of consent on the part of the animal). And pegging.

 

She’s even trying to get me to do a guest post on her blog, so stay tuned for that.


If I can be serious for a moment (and I can because it’s my blog). I never expected this blog to be more than some good therapy/entertainment for me. But instead it has turned into this whole community of wonderful people and connections. I have gotten more emotional support from my blog friends than I have from most of my real life friends. And as I am turning my blog friends into real life friends, I am so grateful to be here and to know the people that I know. Thank you guys.

Advertisements

45 thoughts on “Meeting Ann

  1. I would kill to look like older-than-me Anne Bancroft now!

    Glad y’all had a good time!

    I only figured out this year about fingernails and lesbianism. One of my gay friends sent me a “lesbian manicure” meme and stupid me had to have it explained. Duh.

  2. Whenever I need an adult, I usually just scream “HELP! I NEED AN ADULT!”

    Sadly, this happens more often than one would think. And I really do want to come visit you. I’m thinking sometime around the first week of december. I just have to save up for a night in a hotel and make sure I can have my coworker cover me for a day. Considering I’d be coming in the middle of the week.

  3. Yay so glad you both had a wonderful time 😀

    Your time in the bathroom sounds like my first ever hotel experience in Vegas. Me in a towel and not being able to turn on the shower so I called reception desk in hysterics from jet lag having travelled 16 hours I just wanted a cold shower and a lie down and they didn’t understand my Australian over the phone and the next thing I know there’s a guy in overalls banging on my door with me in a towel and leaky eyes saying “I just wanted a shower” like a defeated koala that couldn’t find a gum tree.

    Don’t feel too bad. It sounds like I may be your Australian long lost twin. Except you’re prettier 🙂

      • Hahaha! Oh it probably could have been if I hadn’t looked miserable, overheated and hung over. I was mortified but not enough to find clothes. And he just kept turning the tap on the shower and it eventually came on. I was so embarrassed.

        Psh, if you came here you’d be the one with the exotic accent 🙂

  4. (1) I have already copyrighted the band name “Unsolicited Dick Pics” so you owe me $.05
    (2) I am exceptionally jealous. Next time I’m crashing your party.
    (3) SICK TURTLES?! THIS IS MY JAM!!!!
    (4) I NEED to know how the sink faucet turns on. This is imperative.

  5. I’m totally jealous. That is the one (and about the only) thing I liked about BlogHer – the chance to meet up and make connections with blogging friends in real life. Apparently, I’m the only blogger in the whole state of New Mexico – because no one lives near enough to me to visit (or wants to come to the desert to find me).

    • I want to go to BlogHer next year so badly! If I ever make a driving pilgrimage (and I intend to) I will definitely hit you up. New Mexico is on my list of places to visit!

  6. Pingback: Meeting a blogger and convincing her to pop her sex post cherry | ann st vincent

  7. Pingback: Sex Story | Cursitivity

  8. I found your blog after reading your awesome story on Ann St Vincent’s blog and I am glad I did. By the way, I know how you felt in that sink scenario, what ever happened to just a normal tap?

  9. Your preconception of Ann is almost spot-on with how I have been visualizing her appearance. She has a sophisticated exterior in my mind as well. I believe that i am almost 10 years her senior so the perspective is an interesting one. I can’t put my finger on the reason, but it seems to me that it is her experiences and the way that she shares her stories (“conquests” as my husband suggests) leaves me feeling like an immature teenage girl as compared to her absolutely sexy Mrs.Robinson personna.

      • maurnas, thank you for leaving me feeling even more intimidated. 😉

        I am glad that you two had such a wonderful meeting!

      • I read that and was DYING from the pain in my stomach. I have been in that situation before and ended up…well…using the complimentary bottled water that was in a lovely basket on the counter. Yep! I am so classy!

      • Absolutely! I love this story of your boyfriend and your large toy. It is something that I thought about doing to my husband but haven’t had the nerve to try. 😉 He would do just about anything for me. 😀

      • There are much better ways to get to that point than in my story! Now that I know them, I would never go about it the way I did in that story. I was young and dumb. If you do some reading you can learn some much better, more gentle techniques.

      • I just realized (literally, out of the blue, while brushing my teeth) I forgot to link to this post on my “nice things” page and so of course I re-read it… I don’t know how I missed all these comments but have to say, you made my day. Again.

        When are you coming to visit??

  10. This post right here is how I’m going to end my night. Okay, not thinking about fingernail fungal beastiality fingering, but you trying to get the water to come out and feeling like you failed at fancy. Laughed my ass off. We are living the same life I think.

      • I was too tired to write this last night, but I majorly enjoyed your post because I’d had this chaotic fail at a sandwich place earlier– not only did I somehow manage to cut three people (and I HATE cutters) who were then so overly nice like “no, please, you go ahead!” that I felt like some sort of idiot child. Then while I was walking back to the table, I knocked a chair over. I mean what the heck. I was like this big chaotic poltergeist except not invisible.

      • Hahahaha! I just laughed so hard I choked on my own spit (I long ago learned to not eat or drink when reading anything you write). I think that is how I am going to describe myself from now on: a big chaotic poltergeist except not invisible. And I hate when people are so nice that it makes me feel like I am secretly (or not so secretly) mentally challenged.

  11. Pingback: Bad Girl Blogging | Cursitivity

  12. Pingback: Sisterhood of the World Award | ann st vincent

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s