"Out of Order"
Whenever we see or hear that phrase, it can mean a lot of things. It could refer to something that is broken and not currently functioning. It could mean that things are in disarray; out of order from the neat and proper way that they are supposed to be kept, out of place. Or, perhaps one of the most infamous ways this phrase has ever been uttered, from the movie "A Few Good Men": "You're out of order"! - inappropriate, stepping over the lines of decency. I've definitely applied all of those definitions to different aspects of my life within the past few weeks and they are really starting to take their toll on me. My whole universe is currently "out of order".
........
It all started with a boy, as most things in my life tend to start with. I met a boy who was nice and kind and sweet. I really liked him, I really did. But, I am so broken and out of order. There's just too much baggage in my life, skeletons banging to get out of my closets, that I could never expect someone like him to be able to handle that. He would never be able to carry all my baggage. And so, I let things go to the wayside.
And then, I met another boy. The only problem was: Boy #2 was Boy #1's roommate.
Because I'm not enough of a martyr. Because I apparently can't handle enough chaos in my life that I just need to keep piling it on and getting myself into situations that are unhealthy and probably going to end in (ok, always destined to end in) disaster, I moved things forward with Boy #2. (Apparently, they conferred about this situation - aka Me - first and Boy #1 gave reluctant approval for Boy #2 to ask me out.)
And I really liked Boy #2. He was basically like, the boy version of me. (Except, clearly, I'm way cooler and more attractive. /sarcasm) We became "partners in awesomeness". He thought I was clever and funny and beautiful (all true things, obviously) and I thought he was handsome and smart and brilliant. I admired and adored him. I loved joking and laughing and smiling and plotting with him.
Yet, despite all those awesome feelings and fun times, I kept defaulting to my stupid thing that I do with boys where I keep them at arms length and pretend I don't have feelings because I don't want to get hurt and try to keep everything as casual as possible and pretend like I don't care.
Only problem is: I started to care. And it scared the shit out of me.
"Hmm, I think I might kind of like you...", I once told him, half joking, half serious.
I kept trying to tell myself things to psych myself out of it, like "Well, I'm never going to love him like I love Emmett. He's never going to be as good as Emmett." or "Oh, I'm not trying to put down roots in Philadelphia. I'm leaving soon. I can't get into anything serious." My friend and I even resorted to making Pro & Con lists about him. (I know we all remember that episode of FRIENDS where Ross makes the Julie & Rachel pro/con list - and we saw how well that turned out at the time. "She's not Ratchum!??!")
But I started feeling like maybe this could be something serious, like maybe I could really fall for this person, like maybe Philadelphia wasn't so bad after all as long as I had someone to share it with. I got butterflies when I was with him and I got sad when we were apart. I always wanted to be around him; sharing kisses and creativity and scotch and calamari. That, my friends, sent me into the panic of the century. I started having anxiety attacks, worrying that I was going to get trapped here in Philadelphia - in a job I hate, in a sub-par relationship with someone who was not the soul mate I envisioned for myself. So of course, I went into self-sabotage mode.
Anything good in my life will always turn to shit. And its 99.9% always my fault.
The whole version of events as to how we met was something that we joked about a lot. It was unavoidable - literally. I mean, I was dating someone who had a roommate who I also went on a date with once. And there were playful jokes about well, maybe I should just go on over to Boy #1's room sometime and try and seduce him - or whatever. Totally and completely not serious, but wheels kept turning in my head. I kept having these "What if?" moments.
What if I had just dated Boy #1 instead? It wasn't that I didn't like him; we had a lot of common interests. What if I could date Boy #1 Mondays, Wednesdays & Fridays and Boy #2 Sundays, Tuesdays & Thursdays and then they could alternate Saturdays? What if I could really get these guys into a polyamorous relationship and have them be totally cool with it? I mean, in the Millenium trilogy, Berger is able to have her husband for one part of her life to fulfill certain needs, and Blomkvist as her lover and for everything else. Why could I have that too?
So, I got fucking greedy is what fucking happened.
I had already started being aloof with Boy #2 and downplaying things and acting like I didn't care. Rubbing it in his face that I'd applied to 2 jobs back home one week and how my boss had asked if he would come with me and I'd recoiled in disgust like, "GOD NO! I mean, it's not THAT serious!" How I couldn't wait to get the fuck out of Philadelphia and leave this shit stink of a town behind - and presumably him as well.
And then, one night, I did the unthinkable: I, while under the influence of several beers and shots of Patron, messaged Boy #1 and asked him to come over.
I mean, I wasn't even really being serious. I wasn't home at the time. I wasn't expecting him to actually come over. I knew he was out drunk too so I don't even know how he'd even get to my house (that I wasn't at). And even if he had shown up, I probably would have slammed the door in his face and laughed.
And then Boy #1 told Boy #2 and he was pissed.
I don't know why I expected him not to be. I don't know why I thought "I was really drunk" was going to be an excuse and he was going to forgive me for it. (Maybe because I once blatantly tried to shove my hands down the pants of a friend of a guy that I was dating - and not really into - right in front of him while shitfaced?) That's an excuse you use when you're 18, not when you're 28. And so I don't really know why I was shocked when he broke up with me.
At first, I was pissed and angry. Like, HOW DARE HE! Like I didn't cause this; that this was somehow his fault. And so I sat around being really pissy and angry for a week and hating Boy #1 and Boy #2 for getting me into this situation. Like somehow this all could have been prevented from Day 1 if we just had some kind of weird threesome and then let everything work itself out. To have eased the tension of avoiding Boy #1 every time I came to their apartment. To have stopped thinking about how I was flaunting this relationship with his roommate in his face.
Point is: I hurt people's feelings. And that's what's really fucking out of order.
My behavior was out of order and what I did isn't really forgivable. Shit, I wouldn't forgive me. But that's because I don't forgive anyone easily. (Must run in my family because my Mom is really good at holding grudges for decades.) But I wish I could be forgiven. I wish this albatross wasn't hanging from my neck day in and day out. I wish I could just go back and erase everything that happened - but I can't. I have felt guilt about what I've done, this pit in my stomach that won't go away. I hate myself. I deserve this shitty feeling of feeling like a shitty person because I am one.
And I want to apologize.
I've really started to like it in Philadelphia, and it was because of you. And now, I feel like I can't even go certain places because they remind me of you or things that we could be doing together. I sit there and I think, "Oh, he would really love this or that." Or, I'll see something that would be perfect for you or have an idea or a joke. And I can't even tell you about it because you hate me.
You inspired me to be something better than I was. The girl just biding my time til I got the hell up out of dodge; you made me want to do more, be more, dream bigger. The cupcake business, marketing ideas, freelancing - you awakened these dreams inside me to help me make my time here so much more enjoyable - and now, I just feel empty again and uninspired. I admired the way you dreamed big - the things that you wanted to create and I wish that I could be by your side supporting you and seeing you through it, seeing your genius reach the light. I wish I could be your partner again. I adored listening to how passionate you were about everything - and I won't lie, that's what I found sexiest about you - your creativity and intelligence. I was like a moth to a flame just wanting to feed off your energy and have that kind of dream for myself too.
I know you hate me right now. And you have every right to. I betrayed you. It was wrong and stupid and I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I am begging you please, if you could just listen with your heart when I tell you that, I know you can't forgive me right now - but I'm going to do everything in my power to make it up to you. No matter what happens. No matter what you decide to do. I hope we can at least be friends again one day.
I'm Sorry, Ricky.
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Double Dipping
I went through a bit of a dry spell after my first ONS, but much like my first two-timing experience, I once again found myself with more men than I could handle. I envisioned myself this pimptress (is this even a real word?), juggling several guys all at once. But once all the balls (no puns please) were up in the air, I found myself in the end standing with empty hands.
So what else is Facebook good for if not as a way to reconnect with your best friend from high school's ex boyfriend who you had a mild crush on and almost ruined your friendship over when you may or may not have been flirting with him? Well, that is exactly what happened to me. "Gene" (Not his real name, obviously.) sent me a friend request and then a message asking me how I'd been. He noticed that I was now living in CT and he was living in the area as well and asked if I'd like to get together some time and reminisce. Sure, why not? Sounds like an awesome idea - I agreed. Then, spent the time beforehand debating if it was a date or not. I hadn't seen him in years and didn't even know if I would be interested. When I showed up, he was with a male friend so, whew! I figured it wasn't a date. Relieved and relaxed, I was just ready to drink some beers and shoot the shit with them and catch up on the past 8 years. Then his friend left and things suddenly started creeping into pseudo date territory. We left, hit up another bar, then decided to get some food and go back to his apt a few blocks away.
We eat and start watching some TV and then, the theatrics begin. Gene starts telling me how he had a crush on me in high school and gets closer on the couch. He even went so far as to tell me he used to jerk off thinking about me. (I will chalk that up to a very drunken TMI slip of the tongue. I guess maybe he thought he was complimenting me?) Which of course leads to him kissing me and telling me how he "always wanted to do that". I'm not really looking for anything serious so I'm ready to get down to business in the bedroom, to which he tries to slow things down and tell me that he thinks we could have something good going on here. (To which I rolled my eyes and he couldn't see because we were in the dark. He really could have gotten an Oscar for this performance.) I was like um... whatever? Are we gonna bone? Are we not gonna bone? Because I have work in the morning.
So yeah. We boned. It was fun and pretty decent and lasted longer than I expected since he was giving me all this 16 year old boy runaround talk on the couch. I left and went home and then spent a week playing the "Is he gonna call? Why hasn't he called?" game. Gene finally texted and invited me to hang out at his friend's house after his band practice. Which led to another semi-coupley BBQ get together. I couldn't tell if he wanted us to be fuck buddies or if he wanted to date me. (And I really wasn't in the mood for serious dating.)
Meanwhile, while I was out one evening with two of my girl friends (twins!), I was introduced to their brother's really cute friend (Who is to be referred to as Awkward Math Teacher or AMT for short - I'll explain later.) who had just come back from teaching English in China. (And I had just gotten rejected from a program to teach English in Japan.) Hoping to bond over a few drinks, we all decided to do a round of shots. Unfortunately, for AMT there was pineapple juice in the shot and he's severely allergic to pineapple. So he had to leave and go try not to die.
Of course my friends tried to play matchmaker: "Oh! Isn't AMT cute? You guys would be cute together! He really liked you!" He met me for 5 minutes, seriously? It took a few weeks but eventually, they managed to get us in the same place at the same time: Extremely drunk at a bar crawl. As I stood at a bar ordering a beer, he drunkenly walked over and asked if I wanted to do shots in a slurred tone. All I could do was smile and giggle. So he took my beer, drank it and then took my hand and led me out of the bar - and across the street to the hotel him and my friends' brother were staying in.
Personally, having sex with someone you've barely exchanged more than two sentences is not usually my thing. But throw a bunch of Red Bull/Vodkas into the mix (my Kryptonite) and just about anything will go down. (Including me. Yes, I walked right into that one.) I woke up in the morning to more sex as we tried to keep quiet with my friend's brother & gf sleeping in the next bed. Then, I played the "Where the eff are my clothes game?", shoved my panties in my purse, and found myself walk of shaming right into breakfast/lunch with AMT, my friends' brother, his gf, and another couple they were friends with. Here I am in my same clothes, hair a mess, smelling like booze, while everyone else looks fresh as a daisy. (Especially the Abercrombie poster couple sitting with us.) Fan-fucking-tastic.
So AMT drove me home while we made awkward conversation and my parents definitely watched me get out of this guy's car. (They learned not to ask questions anymore though.) We went out a few more times but there was one big problem: He was a Math teacher and incredibly awkward with absolutely no personality I'd try to get him to talk and it just wasn't working. He kept suggesting movie dates, but I really wanted to get to know him and I figured the only way to get him to talk was to try loosening him up with some booze. (Typical Irish though, I suppose.)
Meanwhile, Gene is trying to be all serious with me, asking if I was sleeping with anyone else. No, of course not - I lie - but I am dating other people. Which I guess gave him the ok to give up psuedo-dating me and just booty call me instead. (Sure, I'll come over your place at 12:30 in the morning, no problem.) Then, after an unfortunate incident involving my gag reflex, I didn't hear from him for a while and just said, Fuck it, not worth it. He did try to contact me again a few months later and was all "Hey, what's going on? Haven't talked to you in a while" (on Facebook no less), to which I replied, "Nothing. Moved to Philly." and deleted his ass off my friends list.
Back to AMT: After several attempts to try and get some chemistry going, I decided to up the ante one night when we went out for dinner. I wore my cutest skirt, took my panties off in the bathroom and let him find out on his own. It drove him nuts! He was all, "Wow. You're so sexy in that skirt." Finally! The response I'd be waiting for. But, as quickly as the fireworks were lit, they fizzled out. On more than one occasion. (He may or may not have had some kind of erm, performance issues that may or may not have been alcohol related.) And so, I stopped hearing from him and just gave up on the whole thing all together. It just wasn't meant to be.
....
They say when it rains it pours, but sometimes, I guess I'd rather just be in a drought.
So what else is Facebook good for if not as a way to reconnect with your best friend from high school's ex boyfriend who you had a mild crush on and almost ruined your friendship over when you may or may not have been flirting with him? Well, that is exactly what happened to me. "Gene" (Not his real name, obviously.) sent me a friend request and then a message asking me how I'd been. He noticed that I was now living in CT and he was living in the area as well and asked if I'd like to get together some time and reminisce. Sure, why not? Sounds like an awesome idea - I agreed. Then, spent the time beforehand debating if it was a date or not. I hadn't seen him in years and didn't even know if I would be interested. When I showed up, he was with a male friend so, whew! I figured it wasn't a date. Relieved and relaxed, I was just ready to drink some beers and shoot the shit with them and catch up on the past 8 years. Then his friend left and things suddenly started creeping into pseudo date territory. We left, hit up another bar, then decided to get some food and go back to his apt a few blocks away.
We eat and start watching some TV and then, the theatrics begin. Gene starts telling me how he had a crush on me in high school and gets closer on the couch. He even went so far as to tell me he used to jerk off thinking about me. (I will chalk that up to a very drunken TMI slip of the tongue. I guess maybe he thought he was complimenting me?) Which of course leads to him kissing me and telling me how he "always wanted to do that". I'm not really looking for anything serious so I'm ready to get down to business in the bedroom, to which he tries to slow things down and tell me that he thinks we could have something good going on here. (To which I rolled my eyes and he couldn't see because we were in the dark. He really could have gotten an Oscar for this performance.) I was like um... whatever? Are we gonna bone? Are we not gonna bone? Because I have work in the morning.
So yeah. We boned. It was fun and pretty decent and lasted longer than I expected since he was giving me all this 16 year old boy runaround talk on the couch. I left and went home and then spent a week playing the "Is he gonna call? Why hasn't he called?" game. Gene finally texted and invited me to hang out at his friend's house after his band practice. Which led to another semi-coupley BBQ get together. I couldn't tell if he wanted us to be fuck buddies or if he wanted to date me. (And I really wasn't in the mood for serious dating.)
Meanwhile, while I was out one evening with two of my girl friends (twins!), I was introduced to their brother's really cute friend (Who is to be referred to as Awkward Math Teacher or AMT for short - I'll explain later.) who had just come back from teaching English in China. (And I had just gotten rejected from a program to teach English in Japan.) Hoping to bond over a few drinks, we all decided to do a round of shots. Unfortunately, for AMT there was pineapple juice in the shot and he's severely allergic to pineapple. So he had to leave and go try not to die.
Of course my friends tried to play matchmaker: "Oh! Isn't AMT cute? You guys would be cute together! He really liked you!" He met me for 5 minutes, seriously? It took a few weeks but eventually, they managed to get us in the same place at the same time: Extremely drunk at a bar crawl. As I stood at a bar ordering a beer, he drunkenly walked over and asked if I wanted to do shots in a slurred tone. All I could do was smile and giggle. So he took my beer, drank it and then took my hand and led me out of the bar - and across the street to the hotel him and my friends' brother were staying in.
Personally, having sex with someone you've barely exchanged more than two sentences is not usually my thing. But throw a bunch of Red Bull/Vodkas into the mix (my Kryptonite) and just about anything will go down. (Including me. Yes, I walked right into that one.) I woke up in the morning to more sex as we tried to keep quiet with my friend's brother & gf sleeping in the next bed. Then, I played the "Where the eff are my clothes game?", shoved my panties in my purse, and found myself walk of shaming right into breakfast/lunch with AMT, my friends' brother, his gf, and another couple they were friends with. Here I am in my same clothes, hair a mess, smelling like booze, while everyone else looks fresh as a daisy. (Especially the Abercrombie poster couple sitting with us.) Fan-fucking-tastic.
So AMT drove me home while we made awkward conversation and my parents definitely watched me get out of this guy's car. (They learned not to ask questions anymore though.) We went out a few more times but there was one big problem: He was a Math teacher and incredibly awkward with absolutely no personality I'd try to get him to talk and it just wasn't working. He kept suggesting movie dates, but I really wanted to get to know him and I figured the only way to get him to talk was to try loosening him up with some booze. (Typical Irish though, I suppose.)
Meanwhile, Gene is trying to be all serious with me, asking if I was sleeping with anyone else. No, of course not - I lie - but I am dating other people. Which I guess gave him the ok to give up psuedo-dating me and just booty call me instead. (Sure, I'll come over your place at 12:30 in the morning, no problem.) Then, after an unfortunate incident involving my gag reflex, I didn't hear from him for a while and just said, Fuck it, not worth it. He did try to contact me again a few months later and was all "Hey, what's going on? Haven't talked to you in a while" (on Facebook no less), to which I replied, "Nothing. Moved to Philly." and deleted his ass off my friends list.
Back to AMT: After several attempts to try and get some chemistry going, I decided to up the ante one night when we went out for dinner. I wore my cutest skirt, took my panties off in the bathroom and let him find out on his own. It drove him nuts! He was all, "Wow. You're so sexy in that skirt." Finally! The response I'd be waiting for. But, as quickly as the fireworks were lit, they fizzled out. On more than one occasion. (He may or may not have had some kind of erm, performance issues that may or may not have been alcohol related.) And so, I stopped hearing from him and just gave up on the whole thing all together. It just wasn't meant to be.
....
They say when it rains it pours, but sometimes, I guess I'd rather just be in a drought.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Two-Timing
After my breakup, I really wasn't in the market to be actively dating. (Especially after a very awkward situation I created while attempting to date this guy at my part-time job which may or may not have led to me slightly stalking him & my ex-gf leaving him a very drunken voicemail rambling on about his cock.) So imagine my surprise when one summer I scored 2 dates in the course of 72 hours - not even trying! So hey, when life gives you lemons, might as well date both of them at once.
The first came when I was waiting at the train station on my way home after work. A guy came over and asked me when the next train to Stamford was and I told him 6:08. He asked if I was waiting for the same train. (I mean, come on, obviously I was - No, I just hang out at random train stations.) So he starts chatting me up, asking me if I'm from the area. I told him I grew up there but I just moved to CT. He told me he did too and went to the local all boys Catholic school where I just so happened to have worked as a counselor for many years. He asked me how old I was: I was 24. He was 34. (From here forward, he is referred to as "The 34 y/o") We continued talking at the station and on the train, since we were both getting off at Stamford. When the train was pulling into the station, he asked for my number and if I wanted to get a drink some time. Pulling out his ancient Nokia cell phone, he punched in my number and I shrugged it off and headed towards my connecting train.
The next day I got home from work early and headed over to some local happy hour spots in CT to try and meet some friends (I was still pretty new to the area). So I downed a few martinis in one restaurant me & my mom like to go to, then headed down to the waterfront to this outdoor bar. As I stood drinking and texting my friend, viewing all the older happy hour patrons, a really cute guy came up and asked if I was waiting for someone. Then, just as quickly as I could reply, he flashes me his wedding ring and turns to point at a table of 2 frumpy guys and tells me one of them wants to buy me a drink. I've got a pretty good buzz going on and hey, who knows, they might be cool, so I go over and hang out with them.
The less frumpy one who had all his hair and was possibly somewhat attractive was the one who had his eye on me; the frumpier, balding, nerdy one was his older brother. They were pretty cool and funny and so I hung out with them, going from the bar to behind the baseball field where they retrieved a Rubbermaid container of Keystone lights from their car (real classy huh!) and we continued to drink. Less Frumpy's (Now being referred to as "LF" for simplicity's sake) friends cleared the way to let him make his move on me, to which I drunkenly obliged and led to some making out and fondling in the back of his friend's car. Afterward LF began walking me home and asked me for my number - I drunkenly responded, "Uhhh, what was your name again?", took his number down in my phone as well, and stumbled home.
LF called me the next day and we went out to dinner (OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE!) and began hanging out more since he was semi-local. (He grew up there but his mother moved recently; Since all his friends still lived there, he'd come down and stay with them on the weekends.) We'd go to the movies, hang out at his friend's place and do Power Hours (Oh yeah, I was living it up.), made him take me to an Anime convention; I pretty much had the kid wrapped around my pinky and could make him do anything for me: The power of my hotness, I suppose. I enjoyed hanging out with him. He was fun and funny and pretty cool. His friends were awesome too. There was just one problem: I was totally not sexually attracted to him. Further confirmed when I finally slept with him 3 months after we'd be hanging out and it was a complete and utter let down.
From that point on I tried to avoid any kind of sexual interaction with him. Unfortunately, he turned around and told me he thought he was in love with me - to which I just smiled. And then, when he told me he loved me again a month later, I lied and said it back because I felt bad. This apparently made us "Facebook Official" with our relationship. Shortly thereafter, I became fed up with his insecurities, clingy behavior and lack of bedroom skills, I abruptly ended the relationship and the timing couldn't have been better; His car broke down, he lost his phone and I stopped talking to him all in one weekend. It could've been the next County hit!
..........
I'll backtrack now to the 34 y/o, since that whole adventure lasted much shorter. He called me a few days after our meeting to arrange a date for that Friday night. I met him out at a nice lounge for drinks and dinner. Unfortunately, I came to find out that he had been living with a woman in Vermont for 2 years and they had broken up and he was living in his friend's spare bedroom - for the past year & a half. He had no car. He worked nights a big corporate television station that shall remain nameless. I had a pretty good time and he invited me back to "his place" (aka his friend's apt that he was sharing) so I said, why not? You only live once. We took the train and a cab to his friend's apt, stopping to get beers along with way, hung out on "his balcony" and compared tattoos. We had started watching "Almost Famous" (his favorite movie), then he decided to show me his guitars (he was also apparently a musician) and then things started getting hot and heavy.
Before I knew it, I was that "sex on the first date" girl. And 5 minutes later, it was over. I figured he was just drunk so really not a big deal and went to sleep. We woke up in the morning and there was another 5 minute romp in the hay which I again attributed to being hungover/morning. So I cabbed it back to the train (which I had to pay for - not too thrilled about that since I don't carry cash & got into a fight with the cab driver because I tried to use my card & he told me I had to call the card in in advance before I got in the cab. So I asked him to stop at an ATM & he takes me to a gas station where the ATM didn't work, then takes me to an actual bank and tries to charge me $3 a stop when his dumb ass should've just taken me to a bank in the first place. I handed him a $20 bill and told him to go fuck himself.)
Not really anticipating going on another date with the 34 y/o again, I begrudgingly agreed to date #2 when he called and said he was going to get a hotel room for us for the evening. (Since you know, he lives with his friend. Kind of awkward to keep bringing chicks back to a place you don't own, I'm sure) Sweet! It's just like "Pretty Woman", I thought. So date #2 commenced - I picked him up, we valeted the car, checked in, and headed to a local bar for drinks. Here's where things went down hill. At the bar, he gets the first round, then TELLS me it's my turn to pay. I would have had no problem offering to pick up the tab. Just don't TELL me I have to like it's my duty. So we go back to the hotel, get some wine/champagne from the lobby and go upstairs and rent a movie on pay-per-view. (Forgetting Sarah Marshall, if you were wondering. Hilarious film, btw.) So we're laughing and drinking and he decides to give me a massage. Which leads to him pouring champagne all over my chest and licking it off. Which leads to sex. Which leads to, 5 minutes later, just as I'm starting to get into it, he's done. And not just that - here is the icing on the cake (literally): He pulls out, pulls the condom off and proceeds to jizz all. over. me. I am just laying there in shock like "WTF??" And also pissed that I will need to wash my hair again in the morning.
So we go to sleep and I try to take a shower and sneak out in the morning so I can get to work and never have to see this guy ever again. When I come out of the shower, he's awoken - and so has his cock - as he pulls back the sheets to show me the "surprise" he has for me. Knowing this won't take long, I get on top and sure enough, 5 min later, it's over and done with. I say goodbye and go downstairs to get my car... Which breaks down 4 blocks away from the hotel, no thanks to my ex's constantly fiddling with it. (And luckily the tow truck driver is a Honda head so he knows exactly what is wrong but unfortunately doesn't have the tools to fix it.) Mind you, as I'm waiting the hour for the tow truck, I am texting the 34 y/o and he doesn't bother to come by and see if I'm ok because he's going back to bed since he doesn't have to work til 1 o'clock. (A very nice, pretty hot ambulance driver did stop and help me push my car out of traffic, hung out with me til the tow came, bought me a water and asked for my number in the meantime though.)
So after my car has been towed and I am trying to reclaim my modesty at home later that afternoon, the 34 y/o texts me to tell me I "forgot something - teehee" (my thong. He could keep it for all I cared.) and then asked if I'd been tested because there was blood on the condom when he went to throw it out. (I thought my period had ended; Guess not. But then again, maybe you shouldn't be having casual sex with girls if you're paranoid about this shit.) I never talked to him again after that, despite a few attempts for him to get in contact with me including one drunken text message where he called me a bitch, and a pathetic voice mail where he "thought we had a good time" and wished I'd call him back. Sorry, Quick Draw. No dice. In the end, I finally blamed his minute man status on the fact that he was so friggin' psyched to be 34 y/o and sleeping with a 24 y/o hot chick that he just couldn't last. He was also balding and had an awful goatee, so I guess it was for the best.
.........
While my relationship with LF was much more interesting and lasted much longer than my brief encounter with the 34 y/o, that certainly was not the last time that I found myself double-dipping in the dating pool. And certainly not my last One Night Stand experience - Those stories to follow...
The first came when I was waiting at the train station on my way home after work. A guy came over and asked me when the next train to Stamford was and I told him 6:08. He asked if I was waiting for the same train. (I mean, come on, obviously I was - No, I just hang out at random train stations.) So he starts chatting me up, asking me if I'm from the area. I told him I grew up there but I just moved to CT. He told me he did too and went to the local all boys Catholic school where I just so happened to have worked as a counselor for many years. He asked me how old I was: I was 24. He was 34. (From here forward, he is referred to as "The 34 y/o") We continued talking at the station and on the train, since we were both getting off at Stamford. When the train was pulling into the station, he asked for my number and if I wanted to get a drink some time. Pulling out his ancient Nokia cell phone, he punched in my number and I shrugged it off and headed towards my connecting train.
The next day I got home from work early and headed over to some local happy hour spots in CT to try and meet some friends (I was still pretty new to the area). So I downed a few martinis in one restaurant me & my mom like to go to, then headed down to the waterfront to this outdoor bar. As I stood drinking and texting my friend, viewing all the older happy hour patrons, a really cute guy came up and asked if I was waiting for someone. Then, just as quickly as I could reply, he flashes me his wedding ring and turns to point at a table of 2 frumpy guys and tells me one of them wants to buy me a drink. I've got a pretty good buzz going on and hey, who knows, they might be cool, so I go over and hang out with them.
The less frumpy one who had all his hair and was possibly somewhat attractive was the one who had his eye on me; the frumpier, balding, nerdy one was his older brother. They were pretty cool and funny and so I hung out with them, going from the bar to behind the baseball field where they retrieved a Rubbermaid container of Keystone lights from their car (real classy huh!) and we continued to drink. Less Frumpy's (Now being referred to as "LF" for simplicity's sake) friends cleared the way to let him make his move on me, to which I drunkenly obliged and led to some making out and fondling in the back of his friend's car. Afterward LF began walking me home and asked me for my number - I drunkenly responded, "Uhhh, what was your name again?", took his number down in my phone as well, and stumbled home.
LF called me the next day and we went out to dinner (OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE!) and began hanging out more since he was semi-local. (He grew up there but his mother moved recently; Since all his friends still lived there, he'd come down and stay with them on the weekends.) We'd go to the movies, hang out at his friend's place and do Power Hours (Oh yeah, I was living it up.), made him take me to an Anime convention; I pretty much had the kid wrapped around my pinky and could make him do anything for me: The power of my hotness, I suppose. I enjoyed hanging out with him. He was fun and funny and pretty cool. His friends were awesome too. There was just one problem: I was totally not sexually attracted to him. Further confirmed when I finally slept with him 3 months after we'd be hanging out and it was a complete and utter let down.
From that point on I tried to avoid any kind of sexual interaction with him. Unfortunately, he turned around and told me he thought he was in love with me - to which I just smiled. And then, when he told me he loved me again a month later, I lied and said it back because I felt bad. This apparently made us "Facebook Official" with our relationship. Shortly thereafter, I became fed up with his insecurities, clingy behavior and lack of bedroom skills, I abruptly ended the relationship and the timing couldn't have been better; His car broke down, he lost his phone and I stopped talking to him all in one weekend. It could've been the next County hit!
..........
I'll backtrack now to the 34 y/o, since that whole adventure lasted much shorter. He called me a few days after our meeting to arrange a date for that Friday night. I met him out at a nice lounge for drinks and dinner. Unfortunately, I came to find out that he had been living with a woman in Vermont for 2 years and they had broken up and he was living in his friend's spare bedroom - for the past year & a half. He had no car. He worked nights a big corporate television station that shall remain nameless. I had a pretty good time and he invited me back to "his place" (aka his friend's apt that he was sharing) so I said, why not? You only live once. We took the train and a cab to his friend's apt, stopping to get beers along with way, hung out on "his balcony" and compared tattoos. We had started watching "Almost Famous" (his favorite movie), then he decided to show me his guitars (he was also apparently a musician) and then things started getting hot and heavy.
Before I knew it, I was that "sex on the first date" girl. And 5 minutes later, it was over. I figured he was just drunk so really not a big deal and went to sleep. We woke up in the morning and there was another 5 minute romp in the hay which I again attributed to being hungover/morning. So I cabbed it back to the train (which I had to pay for - not too thrilled about that since I don't carry cash & got into a fight with the cab driver because I tried to use my card & he told me I had to call the card in in advance before I got in the cab. So I asked him to stop at an ATM & he takes me to a gas station where the ATM didn't work, then takes me to an actual bank and tries to charge me $3 a stop when his dumb ass should've just taken me to a bank in the first place. I handed him a $20 bill and told him to go fuck himself.)
Not really anticipating going on another date with the 34 y/o again, I begrudgingly agreed to date #2 when he called and said he was going to get a hotel room for us for the evening. (Since you know, he lives with his friend. Kind of awkward to keep bringing chicks back to a place you don't own, I'm sure) Sweet! It's just like "Pretty Woman", I thought. So date #2 commenced - I picked him up, we valeted the car, checked in, and headed to a local bar for drinks. Here's where things went down hill. At the bar, he gets the first round, then TELLS me it's my turn to pay. I would have had no problem offering to pick up the tab. Just don't TELL me I have to like it's my duty. So we go back to the hotel, get some wine/champagne from the lobby and go upstairs and rent a movie on pay-per-view. (Forgetting Sarah Marshall, if you were wondering. Hilarious film, btw.) So we're laughing and drinking and he decides to give me a massage. Which leads to him pouring champagne all over my chest and licking it off. Which leads to sex. Which leads to, 5 minutes later, just as I'm starting to get into it, he's done. And not just that - here is the icing on the cake (literally): He pulls out, pulls the condom off and proceeds to jizz all. over. me. I am just laying there in shock like "WTF??" And also pissed that I will need to wash my hair again in the morning.
So we go to sleep and I try to take a shower and sneak out in the morning so I can get to work and never have to see this guy ever again. When I come out of the shower, he's awoken - and so has his cock - as he pulls back the sheets to show me the "surprise" he has for me. Knowing this won't take long, I get on top and sure enough, 5 min later, it's over and done with. I say goodbye and go downstairs to get my car... Which breaks down 4 blocks away from the hotel, no thanks to my ex's constantly fiddling with it. (And luckily the tow truck driver is a Honda head so he knows exactly what is wrong but unfortunately doesn't have the tools to fix it.) Mind you, as I'm waiting the hour for the tow truck, I am texting the 34 y/o and he doesn't bother to come by and see if I'm ok because he's going back to bed since he doesn't have to work til 1 o'clock. (A very nice, pretty hot ambulance driver did stop and help me push my car out of traffic, hung out with me til the tow came, bought me a water and asked for my number in the meantime though.)
So after my car has been towed and I am trying to reclaim my modesty at home later that afternoon, the 34 y/o texts me to tell me I "forgot something - teehee" (my thong. He could keep it for all I cared.) and then asked if I'd been tested because there was blood on the condom when he went to throw it out. (I thought my period had ended; Guess not. But then again, maybe you shouldn't be having casual sex with girls if you're paranoid about this shit.) I never talked to him again after that, despite a few attempts for him to get in contact with me including one drunken text message where he called me a bitch, and a pathetic voice mail where he "thought we had a good time" and wished I'd call him back. Sorry, Quick Draw. No dice. In the end, I finally blamed his minute man status on the fact that he was so friggin' psyched to be 34 y/o and sleeping with a 24 y/o hot chick that he just couldn't last. He was also balding and had an awful goatee, so I guess it was for the best.
.........
While my relationship with LF was much more interesting and lasted much longer than my brief encounter with the 34 y/o, that certainly was not the last time that I found myself double-dipping in the dating pool. And certainly not my last One Night Stand experience - Those stories to follow...
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Politics of Dating
There are all kinds of dating pressures in your 20s. Many people think back to their parents’ and grandparents’ day and kind of use that as a barometer against where they should be in life. One might go, "Oh, well my parents were married by the time they were my age, so my clock is ticking." Others think, "Fuck that shit - Your 20s are for partying and screwing around. You've got the rest of your life to settle down." So what should you do? Do whatever feels right. Don't feel pressured to have to be married and settled down with a house and kids by the time you're 30. Don't feel pressured to have to go out and sleep with any and everyone you meet. Remember that what might be right for someone else might not be the right choice for you. It's just like anything in life really. There is always going to be pressure to fit in with your peers, societal constraints telling you to do XYZ and not ABC.
A lot of women think that they're going to get too old to have kids and feel this indescribable need to sit around and complain that "OMG I'm almost 26 years old and I'm single and I'm never going to get married! And I wanna be a Mommy!" That mentality is almost certain to make sure that that "SINGLE" label stands on a little bit longer. Guys don't want you coming right off the bat saying "Oh, well, my goal is to be married and have kids by the time I'm 30." Because clearly, if he knows you're 26 - he factors in the fact that you're trying to accomplish all this in the next 4 years and instantly evaluates whether he wants to be part of that greater plan or calculates where the nearest exit is.
That's not to say that all Guys are commitment-phobic. Obviously, some men would like to get married one day, but if they think they're being put on the countdown meter based on your "clock", that's a lot of pressure. It gets worse as a Guy sees all his friends around him settling down and he's still the only single one. There go all the weekend binges and strip club outings. No one wants be the last Bachelor standing, right? How could someone take me seriously if all my friends are married and I'm not, right? Well, don't go rushing into something and married a Girl just because that's what she wants and that's what you see everyone else doing. Odds are you'll either wind up resenting her for "trapping" you in a marriage before you were ready or eventually wind up getting divorced.
And not every Girl feels like she wants to get married either. The thing about being a girl is - growing up, you're expected to be prim and proper and not skanky and slutty. Then you hit your 20s and realize how amazing sex is and your libido kicks in and you just wanna hump everything in sight and now you can be a kinky bitch all you want without the worry of rumors running the halls of your high school or doing the walk of shame home from the Kappa Sig house every weekend.
You're 20-something and single. You don't have to be in a relationship if you don't want to. You can date and screw whoever you want and be however serious about the situation you want. The world is your oyster. Who cares if you only wanna go out with a guy just to get a free meal and a fuck? That's your prerogative! All these years you've been dating like a chick - and getting fucked over because of it. Think about all those guys you cried over, all those pints of Ben & Jerry's you ate. It's about time you dated like a man - liberate yourself. It's 2010 after all. But of course, most importantly - carry condoms! Don't think just because you're a Girl you should depend on the guy. Because if you get horny and he doesn't have one, how disappointed will you be then? (And don't even think of letting him "pull out" - You should both be able to have mind-blowing orgasms together without worrying about getting pregnant.) Same thing goes for you, Guys. Always carry condoms. Just because a chick is totally hot and says she's the pill doesn't mean that she is - and it doesn't mean she doesn't have herpes either. Because if you don't, guess what? Not only did you not want get married in the first place, but now, congratulations! You're a daddy!
..........
This week, I'm focusing my blog on some of the more interesting, possibly embarrassing and excruciatingly awful dating experiences I've had as of late. I was a serial monogamist for a very long time. I was constantly in back-to-back long term relationships. Only slept with guys that I was seriously dating. All that changed when my asshole of an ex ruined my life and basically made me swear off getting close to anyone every again. So I started dating like a Guy so I didn't get played like a little bitch. I had some good times, some bad, some amazing and some things I experienced that can never be undone or unseen. Those encounters are as follows...
A lot of women think that they're going to get too old to have kids and feel this indescribable need to sit around and complain that "OMG I'm almost 26 years old and I'm single and I'm never going to get married! And I wanna be a Mommy!" That mentality is almost certain to make sure that that "SINGLE" label stands on a little bit longer. Guys don't want you coming right off the bat saying "Oh, well, my goal is to be married and have kids by the time I'm 30." Because clearly, if he knows you're 26 - he factors in the fact that you're trying to accomplish all this in the next 4 years and instantly evaluates whether he wants to be part of that greater plan or calculates where the nearest exit is.
That's not to say that all Guys are commitment-phobic. Obviously, some men would like to get married one day, but if they think they're being put on the countdown meter based on your "clock", that's a lot of pressure. It gets worse as a Guy sees all his friends around him settling down and he's still the only single one. There go all the weekend binges and strip club outings. No one wants be the last Bachelor standing, right? How could someone take me seriously if all my friends are married and I'm not, right? Well, don't go rushing into something and married a Girl just because that's what she wants and that's what you see everyone else doing. Odds are you'll either wind up resenting her for "trapping" you in a marriage before you were ready or eventually wind up getting divorced.
And not every Girl feels like she wants to get married either. The thing about being a girl is - growing up, you're expected to be prim and proper and not skanky and slutty. Then you hit your 20s and realize how amazing sex is and your libido kicks in and you just wanna hump everything in sight and now you can be a kinky bitch all you want without the worry of rumors running the halls of your high school or doing the walk of shame home from the Kappa Sig house every weekend.
You're 20-something and single. You don't have to be in a relationship if you don't want to. You can date and screw whoever you want and be however serious about the situation you want. The world is your oyster. Who cares if you only wanna go out with a guy just to get a free meal and a fuck? That's your prerogative! All these years you've been dating like a chick - and getting fucked over because of it. Think about all those guys you cried over, all those pints of Ben & Jerry's you ate. It's about time you dated like a man - liberate yourself. It's 2010 after all. But of course, most importantly - carry condoms! Don't think just because you're a Girl you should depend on the guy. Because if you get horny and he doesn't have one, how disappointed will you be then? (And don't even think of letting him "pull out" - You should both be able to have mind-blowing orgasms together without worrying about getting pregnant.) Same thing goes for you, Guys. Always carry condoms. Just because a chick is totally hot and says she's the pill doesn't mean that she is - and it doesn't mean she doesn't have herpes either. Because if you don't, guess what? Not only did you not want get married in the first place, but now, congratulations! You're a daddy!
..........
This week, I'm focusing my blog on some of the more interesting, possibly embarrassing and excruciatingly awful dating experiences I've had as of late. I was a serial monogamist for a very long time. I was constantly in back-to-back long term relationships. Only slept with guys that I was seriously dating. All that changed when my asshole of an ex ruined my life and basically made me swear off getting close to anyone every again. So I started dating like a Guy so I didn't get played like a little bitch. I had some good times, some bad, some amazing and some things I experienced that can never be undone or unseen. Those encounters are as follows...
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Boys, Boys, Boys
As a member of the female species, at some point in your life you start to garner attention from members of the opposite sex, some good, some bad, some warranted, some completely disgusting. Growing up I was the “Ugly Duckling”, a victim of bad genes that caused me to go through a sophomore year sporting both braces and glasses. Then, eventually, as I ventured into adulthood, I began to take control of my sexuality. It had its advantages and disadvantages. With the inception of social networking sites, I got to throw it in the faces of tons of guys who had ignored me in High School as I pressed the “DENIED” button on their Myspace friend request and deleted their “Whoa! You got HOT!” messages. I also got to use my God-given gifts to wrap a modest slew of guys around my finger to get what I wanted, when I wanted: rides, drinks, free meals, purses, and random money. (Not a gold digging amount by any means, but more like the ‘Can you lend me $100?’ which I never have to pay you back –type.) But, beauty was a gift and a curse.
I found myself with a series of stalkers in the past. One such nuisance in particular being my asshole, life ruining ex-boyfriend, who I can’t decide if it’s simply desperation on his part or a secret sense of satisfaction knowing that every time he calls or messages and I don’t answer that he is raining on my happy parade. Almost two and a half years since we ended our relationship and he persists to try to get me to communicate with him in some way, shape or form. It starts out nice and needy: “I need to talk to you. Please call me sometime this week.” And then, like someone flipped a switch, his Mr. Hyde side comes out and the threats and nonsense talk begin. (Usually some babble about how much of a cold hearted bitch I am – that’s his favorite term for me.) I refuse to give into these pathetic and childish little games he likes to play and it’s rather unfortunate that he has nothing better going on in his life that he still feels the need to try and get in touch with me or to try and push my buttons.
Stalker #2 is much tamer. I met him through Craigslist (big mistake) when I moved to Philly because I was trying to find friends. We exchanged emails back and forth for a bit and finally met up one night, both drunk and out with our friends, for about 5 minutes. To make up for this, we decided to hang out the next day and go shopping. I couldn’t decide if he was really hungover, really dull, or both. But I honestly got tired of having to lead the conversation with him and so decided to avoid hanging out with him again. Until Thanksgiving weekend. I was bored and home and he wanted to go out for drinks, so I decided to join and figured I probably wouldn’t have to pull my wallet out all night. I was right. We drank until last call then got burritos and went back to his house to watch some TV. Well, we always know where that leads. One second we’re watching pawn selling on TLC, the next, we’re making out and headed towards his bedroom.
There was no sex involved but lots of hot and heavy followed by intense cuddling. I mean, really intense. Like, this guy seriously wrapped himself around me all night and caressed every inch of my body lovingly and kissed me all over. It was really, really bizarre. The weirdest part of all is that he looked like the low-rent version of my Stalker ex. Both tall, built, Italian, dark hair, blue eyes. They could have been Fraternal twins. Except stalker #2 had NO personality – something confirmed by our drinking time in the bar that night. (Although he did loosen up a bit after a few Jack & Cokes.) In the morning I finally managed to break free from his Bear hug so I could go home and get ready for my date with another guy that night.
A few weeks later, I made the mistake of getting ridiculously drunk at my office’s holiday party and went home and decided to let my stalker come over and hang out. Big mistake. First off, I showed up at my front door wearing red lace lingerie under a fleece Rubber Ducky bathrobe and wearing a Captain’s hat. I figured that would scare him off. It didn’t. When he came into my room, we sat on my bed and I drunk rambled and almost started crying. That didn’t scare him off either. He hugged me to make me feel better, then we made out and got naked. And then again, all night with the Bear hugging. Only, it had started snowing out overnight so the heat kicked on full blast. My room already reached sauna-like temperatures, so that combined with his hot, large naked body pressed against mine plus my dried out wine hangover, I thought I was going to die. As I woke up in the morning, still suffocating, a heavy snow had begun to fall outside overnight and was accumulating rapidly and I still had this guy in my bed. So what do you do when you want to get someone out of your house? Why, you do what any normal person does: Have sex with them so that they leave. And that’s just what I did. And I haven’t seen my stalker since, even though he persists to text me randomly every weekend to see what I am doing or to invite me over to just hang out and cuddle. Fuck. That. Shit.
I’m gonna backtrack a little bit to that date I had the night after my hibernation session with Stalker #2. I went out one night with some gay friends and I persuaded one of them to take me to the “Straight Bar” so I could try and get some. Well, when you walk into a bar full of White, Straight people with a big, Black, Straight-acting Gay man, things don’t really go so well. He sensed this and left me there by myself. I went and sat at the bar to drown my pathetic-ness in some beers since the Straight bar was pretty much dead for almost Midnight on a Saturday and I clearly was going home alone. Then, a guy came to the bar to get a drink and began chatting me up, asking me why I looked so sad. I told him that I was new to the area and all my friends were Gay and abandoned me there. So he offered to buy me a drink and invited me to hang out with him and his group of friends. I happily obliged and we went to another bar after, then back to one of his friend’s apartments. We talked and had a good time and then it got to be about time that I left so I headed out to go catch a cab. This guy was such a gentleman! He walked with me and took the cab ride with me, (Turned out he was staying at a friend’s place a little ways past my apartment.) and even PAID! Plus, he asked for my number – I gave it to him, figuring he wouldn’t call. But sure enough, following the “Swingers” code, he called me that Tuesday to ask me out for the weekend. I said yes and was very excited. I had a real date!
We went to a very nice French bistro in Philadelphia’s fancy Rittenhouse Square. Wow – This was just about the nicest date I’d ever been on! Usually I get taken to TGIFridays or something! We had 2 bottles of wine, escargots, crème brulee, and a meal in between. Then he took me home and I invited him in to watch some episodes of “Always Sunny in Philadelphia”, which he’d never seen before. Then, of course, we made out. But that was as far as it went. I wanted to keep it classy. He left and called again for a 2nd date again on Tuesday. This time we were going to a nice Thai BYOB near my house. He bought 2 bottles of wine but we only drank one and headed to a local bar afterwards. But at the bar, things got a little weird. After drinking and talking and having what I thought was a good time, he tells me “Oh I can’t always be paying for things.” And I was like, um… ok? Then don’t take me to expensive restaurants? I said “Oh sure, that’s fine. I understand.” We finished up our drinks and left to get our car from the parking garage. However, that is the last thing I remember: I woke up in bed naked next to him in the morning not remembering what happened. When I told him this, he seemed a little nervous and uneasy. He told me we had apparently had sex, and what I sure was jokingly, that we did it twice and that I said he was the best I’d ever had. I felt bad and wanted to get him out of my house, so I went to my drawer, got a condom, and had sex with him so he could leave.
Skip to the post-Stalker date: We went to TGIFridays (!) and then to a house party (double !). I got to meet his friends who seemed cool. We watched movies, had some drinks. Then we got onto the conversation of the sex-I-didn’t-remember. Well, apparently he hadn’t used a “rainjacket” because he didn’t have any. (Seriously? Who calls a condom a rainjacket?) And we both had an “Oh Shit.” Moment and decided it would be best if he took me home. Again, I woke up naked in bed next to him – this time in the middle of the night and even more “OH SHIT!” The next morning, with condom wrapper on my dresser this time, I didn’t even bother. I rolled over to tried to give him the hint that he should GTFO and finally he said he had to leave. I kissed him goodbye and then prayed to god for the next few weeks that I got my period. It came and I breathed a sigh of relief. I also didn’t hear from him again until shortly before Christmas when he sent me a text message asking if “Anything happened regarding what we talked about last time we hung out.” I texted him back and told him not to worry about it and I never heard from him again. And that’s my date rape story!
It’s really hard to date in this world. Guys are hit or miss. Forrest Gump was right: Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.
I found myself with a series of stalkers in the past. One such nuisance in particular being my asshole, life ruining ex-boyfriend, who I can’t decide if it’s simply desperation on his part or a secret sense of satisfaction knowing that every time he calls or messages and I don’t answer that he is raining on my happy parade. Almost two and a half years since we ended our relationship and he persists to try to get me to communicate with him in some way, shape or form. It starts out nice and needy: “I need to talk to you. Please call me sometime this week.” And then, like someone flipped a switch, his Mr. Hyde side comes out and the threats and nonsense talk begin. (Usually some babble about how much of a cold hearted bitch I am – that’s his favorite term for me.) I refuse to give into these pathetic and childish little games he likes to play and it’s rather unfortunate that he has nothing better going on in his life that he still feels the need to try and get in touch with me or to try and push my buttons.
Stalker #2 is much tamer. I met him through Craigslist (big mistake) when I moved to Philly because I was trying to find friends. We exchanged emails back and forth for a bit and finally met up one night, both drunk and out with our friends, for about 5 minutes. To make up for this, we decided to hang out the next day and go shopping. I couldn’t decide if he was really hungover, really dull, or both. But I honestly got tired of having to lead the conversation with him and so decided to avoid hanging out with him again. Until Thanksgiving weekend. I was bored and home and he wanted to go out for drinks, so I decided to join and figured I probably wouldn’t have to pull my wallet out all night. I was right. We drank until last call then got burritos and went back to his house to watch some TV. Well, we always know where that leads. One second we’re watching pawn selling on TLC, the next, we’re making out and headed towards his bedroom.
There was no sex involved but lots of hot and heavy followed by intense cuddling. I mean, really intense. Like, this guy seriously wrapped himself around me all night and caressed every inch of my body lovingly and kissed me all over. It was really, really bizarre. The weirdest part of all is that he looked like the low-rent version of my Stalker ex. Both tall, built, Italian, dark hair, blue eyes. They could have been Fraternal twins. Except stalker #2 had NO personality – something confirmed by our drinking time in the bar that night. (Although he did loosen up a bit after a few Jack & Cokes.) In the morning I finally managed to break free from his Bear hug so I could go home and get ready for my date with another guy that night.
A few weeks later, I made the mistake of getting ridiculously drunk at my office’s holiday party and went home and decided to let my stalker come over and hang out. Big mistake. First off, I showed up at my front door wearing red lace lingerie under a fleece Rubber Ducky bathrobe and wearing a Captain’s hat. I figured that would scare him off. It didn’t. When he came into my room, we sat on my bed and I drunk rambled and almost started crying. That didn’t scare him off either. He hugged me to make me feel better, then we made out and got naked. And then again, all night with the Bear hugging. Only, it had started snowing out overnight so the heat kicked on full blast. My room already reached sauna-like temperatures, so that combined with his hot, large naked body pressed against mine plus my dried out wine hangover, I thought I was going to die. As I woke up in the morning, still suffocating, a heavy snow had begun to fall outside overnight and was accumulating rapidly and I still had this guy in my bed. So what do you do when you want to get someone out of your house? Why, you do what any normal person does: Have sex with them so that they leave. And that’s just what I did. And I haven’t seen my stalker since, even though he persists to text me randomly every weekend to see what I am doing or to invite me over to just hang out and cuddle. Fuck. That. Shit.
I’m gonna backtrack a little bit to that date I had the night after my hibernation session with Stalker #2. I went out one night with some gay friends and I persuaded one of them to take me to the “Straight Bar” so I could try and get some. Well, when you walk into a bar full of White, Straight people with a big, Black, Straight-acting Gay man, things don’t really go so well. He sensed this and left me there by myself. I went and sat at the bar to drown my pathetic-ness in some beers since the Straight bar was pretty much dead for almost Midnight on a Saturday and I clearly was going home alone. Then, a guy came to the bar to get a drink and began chatting me up, asking me why I looked so sad. I told him that I was new to the area and all my friends were Gay and abandoned me there. So he offered to buy me a drink and invited me to hang out with him and his group of friends. I happily obliged and we went to another bar after, then back to one of his friend’s apartments. We talked and had a good time and then it got to be about time that I left so I headed out to go catch a cab. This guy was such a gentleman! He walked with me and took the cab ride with me, (Turned out he was staying at a friend’s place a little ways past my apartment.) and even PAID! Plus, he asked for my number – I gave it to him, figuring he wouldn’t call. But sure enough, following the “Swingers” code, he called me that Tuesday to ask me out for the weekend. I said yes and was very excited. I had a real date!
We went to a very nice French bistro in Philadelphia’s fancy Rittenhouse Square. Wow – This was just about the nicest date I’d ever been on! Usually I get taken to TGIFridays or something! We had 2 bottles of wine, escargots, crème brulee, and a meal in between. Then he took me home and I invited him in to watch some episodes of “Always Sunny in Philadelphia”, which he’d never seen before. Then, of course, we made out. But that was as far as it went. I wanted to keep it classy. He left and called again for a 2nd date again on Tuesday. This time we were going to a nice Thai BYOB near my house. He bought 2 bottles of wine but we only drank one and headed to a local bar afterwards. But at the bar, things got a little weird. After drinking and talking and having what I thought was a good time, he tells me “Oh I can’t always be paying for things.” And I was like, um… ok? Then don’t take me to expensive restaurants? I said “Oh sure, that’s fine. I understand.” We finished up our drinks and left to get our car from the parking garage. However, that is the last thing I remember: I woke up in bed naked next to him in the morning not remembering what happened. When I told him this, he seemed a little nervous and uneasy. He told me we had apparently had sex, and what I sure was jokingly, that we did it twice and that I said he was the best I’d ever had. I felt bad and wanted to get him out of my house, so I went to my drawer, got a condom, and had sex with him so he could leave.
Skip to the post-Stalker date: We went to TGIFridays (!) and then to a house party (double !). I got to meet his friends who seemed cool. We watched movies, had some drinks. Then we got onto the conversation of the sex-I-didn’t-remember. Well, apparently he hadn’t used a “rainjacket” because he didn’t have any. (Seriously? Who calls a condom a rainjacket?) And we both had an “Oh Shit.” Moment and decided it would be best if he took me home. Again, I woke up naked in bed next to him – this time in the middle of the night and even more “OH SHIT!” The next morning, with condom wrapper on my dresser this time, I didn’t even bother. I rolled over to tried to give him the hint that he should GTFO and finally he said he had to leave. I kissed him goodbye and then prayed to god for the next few weeks that I got my period. It came and I breathed a sigh of relief. I also didn’t hear from him again until shortly before Christmas when he sent me a text message asking if “Anything happened regarding what we talked about last time we hung out.” I texted him back and told him not to worry about it and I never heard from him again. And that’s my date rape story!
It’s really hard to date in this world. Guys are hit or miss. Forrest Gump was right: Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.
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