In a nutshell, this blog a sequence of short memoirs that narrate my encounters with a man named Terrell Smith who desires my company. Terrell Smith dreams of playing in the NBA, but in the meantime keeps himself busy having casual sex, and plenty of it, with random girls who have their own fantasies of sleeping with the upcoming star of the basketball team. Keep up with each one of my posts to see if Terrell will ever reach his ultimate goal: to get ME in bed. And what about his narcissistic pals on the basketball team? Follow my posts and we'll see if they are as ambitious as Terrell. These stories are true but small details like characters' names, names of places, and bits of dialogue may be edited or deleted so as to protect other's identities and/or deprive anyone of their rights. 
7:26 PM / Posted by Six-inch Walker / comments (0)

Entry II

Just Friends

Naturally, I was skeptical about talking to Terrell. It’s not that I had let Emily’s words of advice scare me, I just didn’t want to have to deal with the immature mind games of another guy who just wanted to have sex with me. 


Nevertheless, I had let Terrell entertain me with conversation as we sent text messages back and forth to each other the next night around ten. At first, I kept conversation casual, asking him about his classes and schoolwork. Soon, Terrell switched gears and inquired about my “single” status. I knew this was sure to come, but I at least thought he would wait until our next conversation. I hesitated before sending him a response. Finally, I wrote: I’m single...and that’s just the way it is right now.


He continued on with the personal questions, requesting about where I was from, my hometown, and where in New Jersey it was that I grew up. I shared with him proudly that I was from a small town in north Jersey, which some consider the “ghetto”, knowing he was from a suburban town in Pennsylvania out in west-bubblefuck somewhere. In his book, I had earned major brownie points for ‘having some hood in me’ because it proved that I had heart. 


Then he dropped the bomb...


7:29 PM / Posted by Six-inch Walker / comments (0)

Entry I

Don’t Trust Him!

As I waited in line at the campus diner with a couple of my friends, sipping on my strawberries n’ cream frappuchino I’d snatched up from Starbucks minutes ago, I was rudely nudged in the shoulder by a guy who had decided that it was a good idea to cut through the middle of the line instead of walking around like everyone else.

I lifted my head and peered into the eyes of the guy who had bumped me. And guess what? Dude didn't even stop. Though he nearly stepped on my toes he just kept on walking and strolled to his seat with his head held high like he was all that and a bag of chips. I remained quiet but in my mind I was yelling, Do the words excuse me mean anything to you? One of my girlfriends nudged me as he strolled away and headed to his seat at a table in the corner. 

“What was that about?” She crooned, grinning at me as if I had some juicy secret I had been keeping from her. 

“Nothing.” I assured her, glancing over my shoulder quickly to see Terrell, the guy that had desperately tried to capture my attention, chatting with the other speculating members of the basketball team. He stared back at me for a moment and grinned, squinting his eyes and showcasing a set of perfectly straight clean teeth. 

Terrell Smith, a freshman on the basketball team has the confidence of a man who knows what he wants. And for some odd reason he thought that he can get between the legs of any girl he wants, including me. Maybe it was because he was intimidating to most at a staggering height of six foot, eight inches with dark skin that glistens and was the proud owner of a sports scholarship someone is funding just to see him run down a shiny court with an orange ball and occasionally make it into the basket... 


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