Level 0: Chapter 2 First Meeting 2/2
Life is very hard; sometimes you learn it the hard way. Occasionally, I’ve felt like life loves to play jokes on you. Why?
I’m sure any of you hearing my random thoughts have had this feeling at least once or twice before :
You spend hours, days, months, sometimes even years for the most cultured of us, (wink wink *) building this flawless collection of jiggly bottoms and perfect busts, that you end up storing on a random adult site, only to come back to a few select choices after you’ve lost your appetite for the 2D counterpart every other season of the year.
This becomes even more so when your taste becomes a bit more “refined” like mine. Being a milf type of guy, the amount of dedication put into creating the perfect digital treasury can’t be properly measured nor regained. All this time and energy you could have dedicated to acquiring a more productive set of skills IRL makes one sigh in both dejection and admiration.
Being the case, one makes sure he tells himself that every one of those waifus he’s gathered through sweat and other fluids is 10 times better than real girls out there.
However, today was one of those moments, you know…
When one randomly encounters such… (I won’t say, woman, because they put every other one you’ve seen that same day to shame) an Amazonian creature which he never knew breathed the same air as he and walked on the same plot of land he did every day.
Yeah, that girl who you internally cry because of, when she walks by you on the streets, after you can’t muster the courage to strike up a conversation with.
That one that haunts your mind for the rest of the day…
Indeed, that one woman, who doesn’t necessarily looks like any trendy supermodel, but which meets every and each one of your sick, but peculiar requirements you’ve taken the care to list and believe in over the years.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Four feet away from 16 years old me, Takano Ryuma, freshly highschool graduate and legally available for reasonable sexual promiscuity in Germany; this very rare “boss” had spawned in a bar I had never visited.
I didn’t know what to do at this moment, but I knew I shouldn’t stare longer than necessary; especially since my body had become unusually responsive to the creature next to me.
I sat on a chair totally exposed to the rest of the people here.
Nevertheless, my “partner in crime”, was appropriately hidden and restrained; which reminded how I needed to thank once again my old classmate Nimuro for teaching me a painful, but life-saving storage technique. Thanks to that masochistic method, I didn’t need to fear being called to the class board by Miss Ishizaki for the rest of the year at that time.
After letting my thoughts wander for a few moments, I put down the phone from my ear as I realized I was left with only two choices :
Immediately call my sisters and meet up with their groups of friends, while hoping to get lucky with drunk ladies I had yet to meet. This was the safe route and one I had been taking all my life due to my odd circumstances. I knew I would regret choosing this option, but right now, I was absolutely terrified to think of the second choice.
Talking about the second choice, I don’t think I need to explain how it goes to you guys. I would go and absolutely mesmerize the lady with my confidence, charisma and outgoing personality.
Or maybe not…
Well, fuck it. Was what I thought. It's do or die today! I just graduated for fuck sake, let’s live to the fullest.
I got up with this thought clouding my mind, trying to prevent anything to get in. Each step I took towards the woman seemed to eat at me a little more. My body became gradually stiff and heavier. When I took the last step, I even became so paranoid that I felt as if every eye behind me was expecting my performance.
It took me two seconds before I could finally say something to her after standing there like a robot.
“Hello, excuse me,” I said very awkwardly, with a blank one track mind, totally obsessed about getting digits out of the creature, and obsessing about a possible rejection.
This approach was very crude and I knew I would hear a few whispers here and there, after the inevitable walk of shame waiting for me.
The woman was still cleaning, but as she noticed a customer was here, she lifted her head and looked at me. Her expression didn’t waver or show strangeness when she saw it was me.
“How can I help you, sir?” She replied very formally but politely.
“Huh…” I started to lose my words when our eyes met. “Do you live around here?”
She was taken aback but answered “Yes?” in a puzzled tone.
I couldn’t believe the words that got out of my mouth. Wanting to salvage the sinking ship I continued with a very cheap line, “What’s your name?”
She showed a face was full of doubts but she still tried to act professionally for a while longer and answered. “Sabine.”
“C-can I g-get your number?” I let the words fly out, clearly out of myself. I was desperate at this point and told myself I’d leave after I got rejected.
“Are you hitting on me?” Finally, she frowned and said with a louder and less gentle tone. “I’m not sure this is exactly appropriate sir. I can serve you a drink, however. So what will it be?” She brushed it off quickly, seemingly used to the practice. Disappointment and coldness were showing despite her best efforts.
This was how Sabine and I met for the first time. At the time I would never believe if someone told me we would soon get over those awkward circumstances and become friends.