Tag Archives: sexuality

The Night of Nine Times

I alluded to this night a long time ago, but never fully explained. Maybe because parts of it were not my finest moments. Today, I am finally ready to share.

I took a trip to NYC in early December, where I had my first one-night stand (and second sex partner ever). It felt awesome. During my walk of shame, I imagined  slow-motion wind blowing my hair back while “Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta” played in the background.

There was only one tiny problem about this liberating night… I hardly remembered it. In fact, I wasn’t even sure whether or not we did it. Must have been great sex, I know.

To say that I was pissed is an understatement. I like sex. A lot. So to have it with someone new for the very first time and not remember?! Well, fuck me. From that moment, I was on a mission. I was going to get laid and remember it like a champion.

On a fine Monday evening, I returned to the same bar where I found my first one-night stand. My inebriation was evident. The wine from dinner, the full glass of bacon-infused whiskey, and the slew of antidepressants whose labels told me I shouldn’t be drinking were not playing nicely together. Oops.

About five minutes into a conversation with a cute guy at the bar, I grabbed him by the scarf and kissed him hard. Good god, if my sober self had seen this she would have punched me in the face. But maybe drunk self has it right, because I have never seen a man so turned on.

We chatted for a while and kissed, until he took me to another bar for water and grilled cheese (you know you’ve had too much when the man trying to get in your pants wants to sober you up). Everything was going great. His apartment was above the bar, and my plan to sneak into his bed was unfolding quite nicely. I ate my sandwich, drank my water, and then… made the least sexy move I have ever made.

I threw up. On me, on my friend, on him, everywhere. This part is a little hazy, but there was definitely vomit. Smelly, disgusting vomit.

At this point, it would have been fair to stop. Mood killed, no sex, time for bed. Instead, he took me upstairs to his apartment and helped me clean up (which apparently involved stripping me of my clothes, throwing them into the shower, and running it… wearing wet pants home the next day was lovely). After some tooth brushing, mouthwashing, and water, this guy was ready to jump me. That’s right- I projectile vomited on him, and he still wanted me. Right then and there.

Luckily, I was much more in-touch with reality after puking up a half ton of alcohol. This made the experience much more enjoyable. We literally didn’t sleep for more than a couple of hours. I have never seen a man ready to go so many times. It was absolutely unreal. It’s like after all the shit I had been through, this was my reward. A man with a real penis who was not afraid to use it.

I left in the morning and he got my number, but I never heard from nine times man again. That is…. until now. Yes, almost three months after our encounter, nine times man has managed to locate me on facebook and send me a friend request. What a strange, strange world we live in. Stay tuned.

 

**NOTE: I forgot a completely hilarious part of this story. As Mr. Nine Times stripped my vomit-soaked clothes from my body, he encountered an obstacle: a shiny broach on my shirt. Not sure what he did with it, but I vaguely remember bleeding profusely in the shower. It wasn’t until I was putting my clothes on in the morning that I saw the enormous gash on my upper thigh. There is still a scar. Ah, the memories.

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The Truth About Men

Men are simple creatures. Frustrating, beguiling, exhausting, simple creatures. If there is one thing I have learned through a five-year relationship, six month marriage, relationship counseling, and affair recovery retreat, it’s that.

I never understood the games men played until I realized a staggering truth: they don’t play any. If a man contacts you, he probably wants to have sex with you. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t. There are no conversations between him and his best friend on how he should “play hard to get if he really likes you.” There are no phone calls to his mother for advice. There is only one thought in his mind, and it’s a yes or no question that he doesn’t need anyone’s help to answer.

Whether or not we want a man to call does not factor into the equation. Men don’t care if you have been waiting for them for weeks or you never want to hear from them again. They contact you when it’s convenient for them, and are as persistent as they feel like being. I had a friend whose creeper extraordinnaire actually used Google Latitude to track her through the bars in San Francisco.

In the world of dating, if a man you are/were seeing contacts you, it’s usually because he wants something. Likely suspects include: sex, potential for future sex, or food. Does it matter what this message says? Absolutely not. “I am in NYC”  “Crazy weather, huh?”  “How bout those egg McMuffins?” – it’s all the same. It’s an in. Once every couple of weeks, I receive a message from my ex-husband akin to this one:

Call me ASAP, it’s important.
-What do you want?
I got the cable bill forwarded to me and I think you can get a better deal by switching plans. We need to talk about it.
-No, we don’t. Goodbye.

Yes, men are simple – they talk to us when they want to and avoid us when they don’t. But as mentioned, I am of the opinion that the act of them reaching out trumps the actual message content. Those who claim that men say exactly what they mean are full of shit. Case in point:

Let’s watch a movie at my place. Let’s have sex.
Let’s make dinner. You can make me dinner, then let’s have the sex.
Want to go to the movies? I’ll pay for your ticket if we can have sex after.

You see, men are simple – but not stupid. They have learned to adapt to us female folk. They can’t say how badly they want to jump us aloud, because then we won’t let them. As a result, when we think they are playing games to “keeping us guessing,” they are in fact just taking the time to try and form “sleep with me?” into a more socially appropriate question.

So now that we’re clear on that, what does it mean when a man doesn’t call? Not interested. Move on. 

And what does it mean when he won’t stop calling? Desperate as fuck. Run.

Recently, I have become an expert in the latter type of man. Now that my ex no longer has my income to fund his wine & dine sessions with white trash girls, he is the aforementioned desperate moron. Last night, he was on my turf with friends and wanted to know if he could come to my place and visit the dogs. Only if I have a hit man waiting for you instead of the dogs, buddy. After he called seven times and sent text messages containing only question marks, I kicked into expert avoidance mode.  I replied with a simple “No, I am not home,” thus defeating the possibility of his visit.

Pleased with myself, I arrived at the bar to meet my friends. Then suddenly, it dawned on me – he could be there. Okay, it wasn’t very likely – there are hundreds of bars in Austin. But I was afraid nonetheless. Logically, I hid in my car until I could get a hold of a friend to make sure I wouldn’t be solo. As I got a hold of my friend and started to walk to the door, I saw that he texted me. He had just left the very same bar – probably less than a hundred feet away from where I was standing.

The Twilight Zone theme song cued up in my head and I tried my hardest to sink into the night with the help of my black jacket. In true avoider fashion, I didn’t dare reply for fear that he would burst back into the bar and start crying (he cries a lot). In the end, the crisis was averted. Ex avoided. Winning all around.

Yes, he was being a stage five clinger- but can I truly blame him for it? The truth about men is they are not bad people. They know what they want, they do their best to go after it, and they try – however poorly – to disguise their intention to deflower you. Men don’t ponder the meaning of your text message, they just choose whether or not they feel like responding. They are not going to sit around and tell their BFF about every detail – they will take action. Single men see the fact that they are not yet sleeping with you much like they see everything you ever complain about to them: as a problem to be solved.

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