Today I was confronted with a situation straight out of hentai manga. I was at the laundromat because I’m too cheap to buy a washer and dryer when a slightly older, but attractive in certain lighting, female asked if I had a cigarette to spare. Being the kind Samaritan, I offered her a fag and we had ourselves a long conversation full of the awkward pause and silence that usually accompanies my interaction with women. As it turns out, she was in between jobs; and from the way it looked she was living out of a car. I have no idea why she was at the laundromat, since she didn’t seem to have any articles of clothing other than the five jackets, gloves and jeans she was wearing; and she wasn’t washing any of them.
Though she never admitted to the bit about living out of a car, what else could I assume since she clearly did not have a place to stay. It was from that conclusion the idea manifested itself in my thoughts: What if I were to invite her to stay the night at my place? I don’t live in a mansion, but I have enough floor space to house another living being, so why not a human? In my hentai-deluded fantasies this could mean hot and steamy farm sex:
In reality, it would be more like I’d wake up to find my television, computer, microwave and silverware missing. Then later find out I have AIDS. Still, the possibility that she’d feel obligated to have sex with me was just too much of a tease to back off from. After all, it’s not completely clear that she’s homeless, or in need of shelter and food in any way. She does have a car, so she must have some money to fill it with gas, correct? Once my clothes dried, I did the only safe thing I could and walked away from the situation. Now, two hours later, this sad decision still eats away at me.