No Sex on Valentine’s Day

“Hey, how about a quickie before we go to breakfast?” I said as I danced around the room trying to get my jeans on. “Sorry babe. No sex on Valentine’s day.”  I paused, thinking that I could not have possibly heard those words correctly. “What?” I asked over the loud ringing in my ears.
“I don’t do sex on Valentine’s Day. It’s a rule.”
“A rule?”
“Yeah, maybe if you’re still around a year from now, we could have sex on Valentine’s day, but not today.”
I have fantasies about how that situation could have played out differently. I picture myself slapping him across the face and walking out the door. But I do not have that old black and white movie moment. Instead, I sat there and told him how what he said made me feel.  One of those dreaded relationship talks that you have with someone who does not want a relationship.

Was it Mental or Physical?

"You mean me cumming?" "What? You came?" "Yeah. What did you think I meant by easy customer?" "Um, I don’t know. Maybe that I was easy? I just thought you had a mental block or something and you stopped." "Yeah. Sorry. I was really tired." Wow. So that’s what happened the night before. It was worse than I thought. I think I need to take another shower.

Sandwiches Scare Me

I’m not afraid of most things. In fact, I actively seek out adventure. I have scrapes on my knees from sliding into second base and getting in the middle of fights between grown men. Extreme roller coaster rides?  Visiting dangerous countries for fun? No problem! But put some deli meat on some bread with lettuce, mayo, mustard and tomato and I can’t imagine taking a bite out of it. The thought of eating a sandwich fills me with guilt. In fact, watching someone else buy a sandwich in front of me at Starbucks nearly puts me over the edge. ‘How can she eat that? Doesn’t she feel guilty. Look at her, she’s thin. She’s probably not as insane as I am and she eats bread in moderation. I should take a lesson. Maybe I will go home and make a sandwich for lunch.’ Fast forward 20 minutes to my kitchen and I’m making the same disgusting salad I have everyday. God forbid I have two pieces of bread during daylight hours. Because then I would have to actually admit to eating bread. But once 11pm rolls around, all bets are off. I end up eating everything in my sweets pantry and plow through cookies and/or bowls of cereal. If I could just pour that same bowl of cereal in the morning, maybe I wouldn’t have to cry tears of shame into my almond milk.

You Can’t Spend The Night

"Do you want to watch Curb?"

"Well, it’s late and the only thing is, you can’t spend the night. My assistant is coming early in the morning and she’s close with….well, it’s just not a good idea."

Oh, right. For a moment I forgot that he still had a girlfriend in New York who he still hadn’t broken up with. I may have had temporary memory lapse as a result of the eight orgasms I just experienced. Best sex of my life. Simultaneously the first guy I’ve ever slept with that was still in a relationship.

This was an all-time high in sleeping with unavailable men. I’d like to think of myself as a trailblazer really. Emotionally unavailable? Not. Good. Enough. You better literally be unavailable or bust.

Facebook info: In a Relationship with _______

Confused? So was I when I saw this on the facebook page of the guy who I had recently hooked up with. Oh, and if you’re wondering, this is a different guy with a girlfriend. Yeah. Like I said…trailblazing.

But even though I’m leading a strong search in hopes to find more unavailable men, I actually was sincerely duped this time. And by duped, I mean lied to. Mostly because he had told me they had broken up two weeks before and because of his text that read: “Let’s totally hang soon! I’m on my way to have a meeting with the ex that I’m not looking forward to. You know, giving back eachothers stuff and the like.” I haven’t outright been lied to before like that. Most guys would tell me the truth and I could decide for myself whether I wanted to ignore any ethical standard. This one took the guilt right out of it for me! Great. Thanks. Now I don’t get to blame myself as I stuff handfuls of trail mix in my mouth.

Next time, a little reconaissance on my part (i.e. add friend on fb prior to hookup) may help. Noted.

You Too Picky

“How old are you?”

“29”

“Why you not marry?”

Haha. Nervous laughter. I thought that was the worst of it until my pedicurist came over and patted my knee yelling “you too picky! You too picky!” Right then, the entire nail salon joined in unison to cackle at my single status, while the lady massaging my shoulders leaned in my ear and said “you know, no man perfek. No man perfek.” Hmmm. This advice sounds eerily familiar….mom. But it didn’t end there. No. The massage lady followed with “you go out with my son! You go out with my son. He your age and he live wit me.”

Oh. Yes. A dream come true. All these years of turning down guys in efforts to avoid settling have finally paid off. Now I can happily embrace a future with the massage lady’s son who lives at home with his mother. I can picture the holidays with the in-laws now.

Coming and Crying

Watching the episode of Californication where the teacher cries after she has an orgasm reminded me of a similar experience. Years ago, after a breakup from a long-term relationship, I didn’t hesitate to plan a night out. I had cut carbs out of my diet so I would look good in the mini-skirt that would from then on be my uniform for the next few months. No carbs plus vodka shots equals bad decisions. I was meeting up with a classmate who I had a crush on but couldn’t act on when I was in a relationship. We went back to his place, as friends of course, to continue the party. When he walked me out, we started making out heavily and before I knew it his hand was up my mini. I was so wrapped in the moment (and by wrapped up I mean partially blacked out) that I didn’t even notice what was happening. Not until I came…to my senses. All of a sudden the street lights were excruciatingly bright, I realized that I just had an orgasm in the middle of a public street where people could have been watching. I looked around in a panic. Luckily, no one was around. I felt instantly sober. Without being able to control it, I started sobbing. Chest heaving, tears pouring. I was crying like a baby onto his shoulder. Shocked and confused, he consoled me and asked what was wrong. With my snot covering his shirt, I cried “I just really miss him.” This is one of my masterpieces.

Thank God You Don’t Want to Date

“Are you going to act weird again?” I asked. “No. I only acted weird last time because I thought you wanted to date. Now that I believe that you actually don’t want to date, there’s nothing to be weird about.” Phew. What a relief. Why would I want to date the men that I sleep with? Doesn’t every girl dream that Prince Charming will slip on her glass slipper, sleep with her and wake up the next day saying he’s relieved she doesn’t want a commitment?