Laura Mainella

Dynamic, Controversial, Opinionated

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Boogie Nights at the Gas Bar

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What an interesting night...


I went to the gym in Kanata and then met up with a friend at Booster Juice. On my way home I went to the gas station to fill up and that's when I met the not so glamorous version of Dirk Diggler.


Before I even had a chance to pluck my debit card out of the reader and take my gas cap off, a silver beemer pulled up hastily in front of my car.


The driver rolled down his tinted window and waved me over.


I thought he was looking for directions or something, so I walked up to his car.

“What is your ethnicity?” he asked. "Umm...Italian/Canadian." I responded.

He said, “Do you have a man?”




“Actually, yes I have a boyfriend,” I said, smiling politely. The easiest, most humane way to decline a guy.

“Is there any chance you’d wanna be with another man?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think that would go over well,” I said, still smiling. And then…

“Is there any chance you’d wanna be with a guy who’s 12 inches and really thick?”


Oh! Tee-hee, well, hem, haw, ooooo, eeeeeee, wowie, lemme think, ummmm…




First of all, 12 inches sounds like reverse childbirth. Not interested. You belong in a stable, not out in society attempting to penetrate innocent, unsuspecting, human females with that thing.


Secondly, this is not a scene from Boogie Nights, you slobbering, disgusting freak. Do people actually do this – in broad daylight, with a million people around, at a fucking Esso station in the west end? And more importantly, does it really ever work?


Looking back on the situation, I kind of wish I’d asked him to whip it out for a look-see. In the name of science of course – the same way one might want to see a two-headed lizard or a vagina with teeth.


Alas, I was tired and at a loss for words so I simply gave Herbert the Pervert the “talk to the hand” gesture and walked away.

Welcome to my life.


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