Talk Dirty to Me

Here's a lil known and kinda odd fact about me - Though I've dated a lot of people (mostly women), I've never had anyone tell me they wanted me to talk dirty to them...

...until Saturday Night.

It creates a problem for two reasons...Firstly, I'm not all that good at making ANY kind of small talk - on first dates with chicks I've met online, I write down a few things about them that I can ask about so we dont end up talking abut the weather. Secondly, I'm not good under pressure. Even from way back when I was pitching in little league and pulled a Kenny Rogers (in the last inning, with the bases loaded, two outs, and a 3-2 count in a tie game, I threw the ball over the catcher's - and umpire's - head...for all I know, it's still rolling). And me in bed with someone is pressure enough... I don't need the added work. She may as well have asked me to juggle swords as well.

"Come on, just try it," she whispered. "Tell me something dirty."
"Umm, okay, ummm, I haven't showered in a week."
"C'mon, be serious."
Figuring I'd make a play on our Jewish roots, I tried, "Wanna see my menorah?"
"That's serious?!?"
"Gimmee one more chance... "
"One more..."
"Okay, I, uhhh, think you're hot."
"Oh yeah? How hot?"
"Umm, hotter than George Brett after his homer was disallowed in the pine tar game?"
"What?" she asked, pulling away.
"Well, I can't help it...I always think of baseball."
"Uggh, forget it."
"I'll work on it."

So leave me alone today... I'm busy googling (which sounds pretty dirty in and of itself).

Rock on,

Aitch