# Holiday Traditions You Would Like to Start

He wasn't the kind of guy I usually went for. His suit spoke of money, and his bullshit antics with his friends made me think he was the same kind of dudebro who broke my brother's wrist in some asshole contest a couple of years ago. Yeah, my brother's the same kind of shitty as the rest of them. And that's generally why I stay away from that fratboy vibe. But this guy was channeling some kind of inner Bradley Coope and it was working.

We did the usual first-date kind of things - dinner, movie, drinks, and he played the gentleman card, wanting to see me up to my apartment, you know, just to be safe, as if he wasn't the reaston I wouldn't be safe. But it was almost the holidays and I was feeling a little low, so, yeah, I invited him up.

We didn't fool around. It was all serious. He started to put the moves on, all schmoozy charm, and I was the coy innocent - you were going to protect me, but you're the big bat wolf, not the woodsman. And he just chuckled. Guys love being told they're the bad guy when they think they have the power. He moved in to take what he thought was his prize. Maybe six days out of ten, I'd let this guy do it. Let him leave, walking funny when I was through with him, too. But like I said, it was almost the holiday and I was feeling low. Most other nights, I'd lead him a merry chase and he'd leave, not sure what just happened, who I was, or whether he'd gotten any. This was neither of those kinds of nights, though.

There's a moment, long after the screaming stops, when the blood has stopped pouring out, that the soul tries creeping out, vulnerable on its way to heaven. But if you've ever seen a cat play with its prey before going in for the kill, you'd understand exactly why his soul had no chance afterward.

Exactly the pick-me-up I needed heading into the holiday.