Casual Sex v. Committed Sex

Maybe I Shouldn't Have Said That...

Sooo... I'm thinking that telling the woman that set me up with Kevin(*) back in November that I think that things between us didn't work out because, long story short, I think that he couldn't get it up, might have been slightly inappropriate.

Now that I've typed it out, I think it might have been thoroughly inappropriate.

Reason #439 why ending things with a girl in a cowardly way, instead of communicating what the issue might be, might not be the wisest of ideas.

(*)Name has been changed to protect the erectionally disabled.

Isn't there a golden girl rule about this?

So what do you do when one of your bff's has been Match.com winking/messaging with the one and same Platform Cutie/Midwestern Boy? And made it somewhat obvious that she is from the same hole-in-wall town and lives on the same street as me?

This is going to make for awkward first date conversation.

Life is not a porno.

So don't call me a "sexy slut" when we are doing it. Ew.

I think this is grounds for being eliminated from the rotation. Goodbye, Taye Diggs lookalike and your giant muscles too. It's been fun. Really.

today's lesson: the golden rule

Step by step instructions on how to be a big asshole:

1) Decide to break it off with Pseudo Boyfriend because you are bored, the sex is bad, and he is talking about wanting to be married - not necessarily to you, but married - next year, which totally freaks you out.

2) Passive aggressively stop texting him when you go away for a long weekend.

3) Find it a little curious that he isn't texting you either, but figure that you are involved in the fun dating came of Text Chicken - and he was the last to text so it probably is your turn.

4) Finally feel sort of bad, give in, text him.

5) Find out that - actually - the reason he hasn't been texting you is not due to Text Chicken, but is because his body went into shock 12 hours after he last messaged you, and he's been in the hospital for the last 4 days.

I mean - wow. Doesn't change the ultimate situation, we are not compatible, but this one did make me feel like a big jerk. Nice guys don't deserve to be alone in the hospital for four days and simultaneously suddenly ditched by their pseudo girlfriend.

Lesson learned: don't forget the golden rule, even if you're bored and the sex is shitty. It's just not cool.

back to the game.

I headed to the suburbs for the last few days, to escape from my life with my sister and her brood. I was on a specific mission to detox from both booze and men...no texts, no calls, no sex....but, that doesn't include online dating, right?

So - because I apparently have issues and can't completely cut off contact with men for 72 hours - I, completely sober and feeling inspired to put myself out there in an honest way, hit up Match. (The lovely Diana inspires me here!) Sent a wink and a few just-witty-enough emails...while I did get a wink back from a very attractive man, he hasn't replied to my subsesquent email. Neither have the other two who I emailed.

And.......this is precisely why I have to advocate for playing the dating games. When you don't reach out to them, they want you. When you do, they ignore you. (There is a Match-specific game, by the way, it's called the "who's viewed me" shuffle...but that's another entry.) I'm so not naturally inclined to roll this way, but I get the same outcome every. single. time. that I don't play along. So...back in I go.

UPDATE:

Midwestern Boy (aka Platform Cutie) called last night. No mention of our psuedo-meeting on the 6 Train.

Phew.

Date is set for Thursday. I know, a whole five nights away. But in all fairness, I am one busy girl.

Lessons from the Battlefield

Lessons from the Battlefield this Week – Read and Learn.

1) Be wary of talking to a guy who sits at the bar the whole three hours you are there. It’s entirely possible that you will talk all night, do lots of shots, make out, then get up and leave to go to the next bar – and find out he is 5’5”.

2) Men in their 30s can still have 5 minute sex. And I’m talking in the bed, not an airplane bathroom. I’d still like someone to explain this to me, please, because I am pretty sure this was supposed to end somewhere around 19.

3) Doing sketchy things in sketchy places is even more fun than you think it’s going to be. I’m just saying. Do it. Life is too short for inhibitions.

4) Be careful when Google stalking someone who you met a few shots in. You may become convinced that you found him, get thoroughly freaked out when you think he is a wannabe vampire…and 2 days later, discover that you have Google stalked the wrong person entirely.

5) Run, do not walk, away from a man who sees that you have a Brazilian and asks you “why you do that.” It’s not a good sign of what’s to come.

6) Your doorman will probably not respect you in the morning.

It's a small, small world.

If it's true what they say about this being such a small world, then I am certainly correct in telling you that this city of 9 million people... is even smaller.

Case in point:

After a string of dating guys that decided to simply drop off the face of Manhattan (what am I doing wrong?), I decided to just suck it up and really start initiating that ever-so-brave first email via my Match.com account.

Enter: Midwestern Boy(*). We've had some pretty good emails back and forth to each other for the last week, and tonight's email is the one that I expect to hold my invitation for dinner or a drink this upcoming week. I decided to send my latest reply to him today right before I headed out to my exercise class in Union Square, and even took the time to mention to him at the end of said-email where I was headed for the evening.

Fast forward a couple of hours: I leave my class feeling fab, super energized and like I'd had a great workout. Sweaty? Yes. Hair in a pony and bangs pinned back? Check. Dance leggings, loose t-shirt and a sports bra? You got it. I've got the iPod in, some tunes blasting and I make my way underground to catch the train home. While standing on the platform, I do the ritualistic scan of the crowd to see if there are any cute guys lingering, and lucky for me, there is one. I don't have my contacts in, but I recognize that he's nicely dressed, probably in Finance like the rest of the male population in New York, and about six feet tall (my height minimum). Even though I'm schleppy looking from my workout, I decide to mosey his direction, and as I step through the same train car as him... Shit.

Oh yah, you guessed it. Platform Cutie was one in the same as Midwestern Boy. The subway car was fairly empty, so there was no ducking behind anyone or pretending that I didn't see him. I held my breath for the 20 blocks before his stop (the stop that he had mentioned in a previous email that he lived at, by the way), trying to figure out what the hell the odds of something like this really happening are (like 1 in 50 bazillion, I think), and hoping that he wouldn't glance at me for long enough to put two and two together and realize that the sweaty, messy haired and make-up-less girl across from him might actually be his date Friday night. He stepped off of his exit and didn't look back. He did check my online profile immediately after he got home though...

So, if that chance encounter hindered my chances for a weekend date, well, there might go another one... right off the face of Manhattan.

(*) Names have been withheld to protect the unsuspecting.