This is definitely the worst drought I have been in since moving to DC, though it is somewhat self-inflicted. I haven't been out in months, I basically just work and sleep.
Both Friday and Saturday nights last weekend my friends went out in Arlington, but I just couldn't motivate to go out there. I know, "whaaaaaaaaa", as the great comedian Artie Lange would say. It's not that far, but it's a pain in the ass to get out there from my neighborhood. I have taken the metro a few times, but it can take anywhere from 15 minutes to 45 minutes, depending on how you catch the trains. Of course you can cab it, but I always end up driving instead of cabbing, and then hate myself in the morning because I drink too much and leave my car at the bar and cab home. Long story short, I stayed in for the most part this weekend.
The one time I left my house this weekend someone backed into my new motorcycle. Awesome. The guy was a real dick and was one smart-ass comment away from a broken nose. When did it become acceptable to run into someone's car or bike then crack jokes? Fuckface.
I met a girl, Wendy, a few months ago who was fairly cool. Wendy is a fitness instructor. I really enjoy talking to her, we have a lot in common, but she's not really my type in the looks department. I am just not that attracted to her. Don't get me wrong, her body is probably absurd, but I wouldn't say she's "hot".
We emailed a few times and she made a side comment that she would like to hang out sometime. I may get together with her this weekend. She doesn't drink , so I've been kicking around some ideas for an "adventurous" date. Some options are: take a motorcycle ride, maybe out to Mount Vernon. Another option is to go shooting, there are lots of gun ranges in Maryland and Virginia. I would like to avoid anything like hiking as I know I would end up having a heart attack long before she would even break a sweat.
I'll let you know if this pans out.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Magic Number
"How many girls have you slept with?"
There are few questions that make me break into cold sweats like this one. There truly is no good answer. The truth is wrong because ANY number can be twisted and used against you and a lie is wrong because it's a lie. Avoidance is a good policy, and my preferred method, but you're merely postponing the conversation.
I found that I was asked this question most while in college, but it still comes up on a regular basis and it always makes me uncomfortable.
Going into college I had only slept with a handful of girls, maybe four or five, but that number increased by a factor of at least three or four within a few months of my freshman year. During that period I found that almost every girl I had sex with asked how many sexual partners I had, and I was truthful. Each time I would answer: seven, eight, nine..." but when I got to "ten" I noticed that I suddenly was perceived as sleazy, or a player, and I would have to do a lot of talking to convince the girl otherwise. It went on "...eleven, twelve, thirteen...", but at thirteen I was stopped, and the girl wouldn't sleep with me. This happened a couple of times, and like Pavlov's dog, I learned quickly to change my behavior.
It was at this point that I found the magic number in college is "nine". When you're in your late teens or early twenties, nine shows that you are experienced but not sleeping with every chick that crosses your path. Nine is a fair number of partners, but just short of double-digits. All through college my policy was avoidance, but if I was really pressed for an answer I always said nine.
After college I continued to use "nine" as my answer if truly pressed, but this was obviously a flagrant lie, and I had an increasingly hard time saying it with any degree of sincerity. I eventually increased the number of my answer to "twelve". I used twelve for a short time, but it wasn't long before I couldn't even say that in good conscience. Shortly thereafter I simply stopped answering the question and have been double-talking ever since.
My friend John, a notorious player, got married a few years ago and after his wedding I asked him how his wife felt about the fact that there was hardly a girl in town that he did not "know" in the biblical sense? His answer was "we have a strict don't-ask-don't-tell policy". I am all for avoidance, but I am not sure this is the best policy once you decide to marry someone. While technically not a lie, there is a certain degree of deception involved here that you may not want to drag into a marriage.
The first girl I met in college was from Cuba. She was a great girl, smoking hot, and I really liked her. After a few weeks of dating we went to a dance together and that night we ended up in my dorm room. We were naked on my futon (the ubiquitous college couch) when Cuba told me that she was a virgin. We slept together that night, and dated or a few months after that. After that we both moved on, but we would get together for sex every once in a while that year (and, actually, all through college). One night towards the end of my freshman year Cuba and I ended up back at her room, and after a few rounds of sex while laying in bed she asked me how many girls I had slept with, to which I answered "nine". I didn't ask her what her count was, but she said "me too, also nine". I'm not sure why, but her answer shocked me. A few months before she was a virgin, and now she's giving me the old "nine" answer. I was infuriated, but understood this was a double standard, and kept my anger in check.
I always think of this story when girls ask me how many sexual partners I have had because there is clearly a double standard for this in society. If a guy sleeps with a lot of women he's virile, and a stud. If a girl sleeps with many guys she's a slut.
Honestly, I have never asked a girl how many guys she has slept with. A part of me really doesn't care, but I also don't want to know because I am usually not willing to answer the question myself, so I avoid the topic.
But I am curious about what an average female number is? I would guess that a girl in her late twenties or early thirties would have had around 25 partners, maybe even thirty. That's about two per year since high school. If you factor in a couple of slow years for long-term relationships, and a couple of Vegas weekends with the girls I think two per year is a fair assumption. My guess is that most guys are about double that number, or maybe a little less than double.
Anyone care to shed some light on the subject?
There are few questions that make me break into cold sweats like this one. There truly is no good answer. The truth is wrong because ANY number can be twisted and used against you and a lie is wrong because it's a lie. Avoidance is a good policy, and my preferred method, but you're merely postponing the conversation.
I found that I was asked this question most while in college, but it still comes up on a regular basis and it always makes me uncomfortable.
Going into college I had only slept with a handful of girls, maybe four or five, but that number increased by a factor of at least three or four within a few months of my freshman year. During that period I found that almost every girl I had sex with asked how many sexual partners I had, and I was truthful. Each time I would answer: seven, eight, nine..." but when I got to "ten" I noticed that I suddenly was perceived as sleazy, or a player, and I would have to do a lot of talking to convince the girl otherwise. It went on "...eleven, twelve, thirteen...", but at thirteen I was stopped, and the girl wouldn't sleep with me. This happened a couple of times, and like Pavlov's dog, I learned quickly to change my behavior.
It was at this point that I found the magic number in college is "nine". When you're in your late teens or early twenties, nine shows that you are experienced but not sleeping with every chick that crosses your path. Nine is a fair number of partners, but just short of double-digits. All through college my policy was avoidance, but if I was really pressed for an answer I always said nine.
After college I continued to use "nine" as my answer if truly pressed, but this was obviously a flagrant lie, and I had an increasingly hard time saying it with any degree of sincerity. I eventually increased the number of my answer to "twelve". I used twelve for a short time, but it wasn't long before I couldn't even say that in good conscience. Shortly thereafter I simply stopped answering the question and have been double-talking ever since.
My friend John, a notorious player, got married a few years ago and after his wedding I asked him how his wife felt about the fact that there was hardly a girl in town that he did not "know" in the biblical sense? His answer was "we have a strict don't-ask-don't-tell policy". I am all for avoidance, but I am not sure this is the best policy once you decide to marry someone. While technically not a lie, there is a certain degree of deception involved here that you may not want to drag into a marriage.
The first girl I met in college was from Cuba. She was a great girl, smoking hot, and I really liked her. After a few weeks of dating we went to a dance together and that night we ended up in my dorm room. We were naked on my futon (the ubiquitous college couch) when Cuba told me that she was a virgin. We slept together that night, and dated or a few months after that. After that we both moved on, but we would get together for sex every once in a while that year (and, actually, all through college). One night towards the end of my freshman year Cuba and I ended up back at her room, and after a few rounds of sex while laying in bed she asked me how many girls I had slept with, to which I answered "nine". I didn't ask her what her count was, but she said "me too, also nine". I'm not sure why, but her answer shocked me. A few months before she was a virgin, and now she's giving me the old "nine" answer. I was infuriated, but understood this was a double standard, and kept my anger in check.
I always think of this story when girls ask me how many sexual partners I have had because there is clearly a double standard for this in society. If a guy sleeps with a lot of women he's virile, and a stud. If a girl sleeps with many guys she's a slut.
Honestly, I have never asked a girl how many guys she has slept with. A part of me really doesn't care, but I also don't want to know because I am usually not willing to answer the question myself, so I avoid the topic.
But I am curious about what an average female number is? I would guess that a girl in her late twenties or early thirties would have had around 25 partners, maybe even thirty. That's about two per year since high school. If you factor in a couple of slow years for long-term relationships, and a couple of Vegas weekends with the girls I think two per year is a fair assumption. My guess is that most guys are about double that number, or maybe a little less than double.
Anyone care to shed some light on the subject?
Monday, March 16, 2009
Chinese Special Massagy
It is about 5pm and I am having mild hallucinations. I returned last night from eight days in China. I haven't been able to sleep and my internal clock is a mess. Keep your expectations low for this post.
My trip was a blur of temples, pagodas, and tourist traps. China is a land of many contradictions. The economy is raging from foreign investment, but it is still technically a 3rd World communist country. Capitalism is seemingly everywhere, but is never fully acknowledged. Actually, it is denied in almost every official way.
Several things flourish in China, though: tea, the production of knock-off goods, and massage parlors. You can get these items or services everywhere, sometimes all three are offered to you at the same time. "Mister, mister, looky. Hello! Hello! You like Rolex?" is shouted at you while you're sipping tea and getting your feet rubbed in a government sponsored massage hall. It's all very confusing.
Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. Let me back up a bit.
I ended up booking a seat on an organized tour of four cities in China with my sister as my vacation for this year. The price was unbelievably low, almost the same as a flight to China alone, but the trip included all meals, hotels, and transportation. The rub is that the tour is subsidized by the Chinese government. They cover approximately 50% of the price of the trip, but you have to visit one or two Chinese tourist traps a day where you are relentlessly bombarded by government workers hawking everything from silk pajamas to dried lizards used to make "medicinal" tea. It's mind blowing. After a few days of sleep deprivation and small Asian women yelling at you in broken, mono-syllabic, English you feel like you're stuck in a Jefferson Airplane song.
Since I was not in the market for any of the garbage the Chinese government was not-so-subtly trying to sell me, I generally opted for the ubiquitous 30 minute, $5 massage that was available at nearly every stop. The massages were generally given in large, unbearably bright, rooms with 25 total strangers. Generally this is not the ideal setting for a massage, but after a 90 pound woman with hands of steel rubs all the tension out of your body you just can't say no. Trust me, these are serious massages.
On the third day a guy in my group told me that he and his wife tried to get a massage in our 5-star hotel (not a Hilton, but another major US chain), but was shocked to learn that the spa would not book one for his wife because the massages were all "sensual" treatments. He explained that for $200US four young (19 or 20 years old) Chinese girls would do anything to you for 90 minutes. That night, while having drinks with another single guy on the trip I told him what I had learned about our hotel spa, and he looked at me like I was crazy. For a moment I thought he didn't believe me, but was then floored when he told me he had been to the spa every night!
I have had many massages, but I have never had a "rub and tug", and was naturally intrigued. I have also never been with a hooker in any capacity. On my last night in Shanghai I decided to book a spa session in my hotel. I took the elevator to the floor where the spa was and picked the most expensive "treatment" they had. I was nervous as hell, and don't remember the description of the treatment, but it was vaguely sexual without ever actually mentioning sex.
I was led into a series of locker rooms where I was given towels, a robe, slippers, and a foot cleansing by several different women. This was all very non-sexual, almost clinical. I was finally brought into a private room where the girl took my robe and I was told to lay on the massage table face down and placed a towel over me. Actually, I don't know what she was saying, that's just what I did.
The lights were turned down, music was put on, and the girl left the room. Ten long, nervous minutes later I heard the door open and a girl said hello in Chinese. I tried to look up but it was too dark and she was slightly behind me, so I couldn't see her. The massage started, and it was like any other legitimate massage in the USA I have had. That was until she walked around the front of me and I spotted black stiletto heals. I snuck another peak, and this time saw that my masseuse was a tall Chinese girl wearing a school-girl outfit a-la Brittany Spears. For the next thirty minutes I had the most unenjoyable massage of my life. My heart was pounding and I was nervous as hell. Then the girl said "Okay, please over" and lifted the towel off my butt and held it in front of her face.
This was the moment I was dreading. From the second the "treatment" started I had a full-blown hard on. It was a nightmare. All I could think was that this was sexual harassment and I would spend the rest of my life in a Chinese prison. When the girl put the towel back down and saw the tent I had pitched, she said "Oh, Mr. Number One Massage (apparently my new name), you want special massagy?" My heart literally stopped and I didn't breath for a long time. Minutes later I mustered a "what's that" in a squeaky voice I had never heard come out of me before. Like nothing this chick said "If you have $200US I do everything. I suckie you, you fuck me all over, then you coming on my here [sic](and pointed to her face and chest)." Then she started to unbutton her shirt. Many things raced through my mind, but luckily the one that flashed the most were the letters H-I-V, and I squealed "no thanks, just regular massagy." She didn't give up easily, and proceeded to call me "cheap" and a few other things in Chinese. For ten or fifteen minutes she kept trying to reach under the towel in the hopes of enticing me into "special massagy" but I was too scared to take her up on it.
The last half of the massage was awful. Realizing that she would not make much money on me, my massage deteriorated into her slapping my back and repeatedly lifting and dropping my limbs and head. After a particularly brutal calf-pinch I rolled over and told her "massagy over, time for dinner, I go now". When I got to the front to pay they still tried to charge me for "special massagy" but I explained that there was only "regular massagy, no coming all over", paid my 450RMB ($60US) and went back to my room where I sulked in the shower for 25 minutes like I had been raped.
That night neither my sister nor any of the guys I had met on the trip wanted to get drinks. I tried to sleep for a while, but I was not tired to I went to the Karaoke Bar in the lobby for a beer. As luck would have it about 15 people from the tour were down there drinking and singing. I talked to them but one at a time they retired to their rooms until only a girl (American) and I remained. We were both drunk already, but we decided to drink until all our RMB (Yuan, or Chinese money) were gone. At 2:30am we got on the elevator to go to our rooms. The wake-up call for our flight was at 4:30am, all I could think was that it was going to be an awful day.
However, when the elevator door closed the girl, Tracy, kind of smirked. She wasn't great looking, but after the massage from hell I couldn't resist trying to hook up. We made out in the elevator until we got to my floor. I told her that I was sharing a room with my sister, and she said she was sharing with her mom, so our rooms were out of the question. We made out in the hallway for a minute, then basically fell into the emergency stairwell.
We kissed for a few more minutes in the stairs, then Tracy turned around and lifted up her skirt. We had sex on the stairs for a little while, and she ended by giving me head. As soon as we were done we walked out and went to our own rooms.
On the flight home we talked for a few minutes, but that was it. I still don't know her last name.
My trip was a blur of temples, pagodas, and tourist traps. China is a land of many contradictions. The economy is raging from foreign investment, but it is still technically a 3rd World communist country. Capitalism is seemingly everywhere, but is never fully acknowledged. Actually, it is denied in almost every official way.
Several things flourish in China, though: tea, the production of knock-off goods, and massage parlors. You can get these items or services everywhere, sometimes all three are offered to you at the same time. "Mister, mister, looky. Hello! Hello! You like Rolex?" is shouted at you while you're sipping tea and getting your feet rubbed in a government sponsored massage hall. It's all very confusing.
Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. Let me back up a bit.
I ended up booking a seat on an organized tour of four cities in China with my sister as my vacation for this year. The price was unbelievably low, almost the same as a flight to China alone, but the trip included all meals, hotels, and transportation. The rub is that the tour is subsidized by the Chinese government. They cover approximately 50% of the price of the trip, but you have to visit one or two Chinese tourist traps a day where you are relentlessly bombarded by government workers hawking everything from silk pajamas to dried lizards used to make "medicinal" tea. It's mind blowing. After a few days of sleep deprivation and small Asian women yelling at you in broken, mono-syllabic, English you feel like you're stuck in a Jefferson Airplane song.
Since I was not in the market for any of the garbage the Chinese government was not-so-subtly trying to sell me, I generally opted for the ubiquitous 30 minute, $5 massage that was available at nearly every stop. The massages were generally given in large, unbearably bright, rooms with 25 total strangers. Generally this is not the ideal setting for a massage, but after a 90 pound woman with hands of steel rubs all the tension out of your body you just can't say no. Trust me, these are serious massages.
On the third day a guy in my group told me that he and his wife tried to get a massage in our 5-star hotel (not a Hilton, but another major US chain), but was shocked to learn that the spa would not book one for his wife because the massages were all "sensual" treatments. He explained that for $200US four young (19 or 20 years old) Chinese girls would do anything to you for 90 minutes. That night, while having drinks with another single guy on the trip I told him what I had learned about our hotel spa, and he looked at me like I was crazy. For a moment I thought he didn't believe me, but was then floored when he told me he had been to the spa every night!
I have had many massages, but I have never had a "rub and tug", and was naturally intrigued. I have also never been with a hooker in any capacity. On my last night in Shanghai I decided to book a spa session in my hotel. I took the elevator to the floor where the spa was and picked the most expensive "treatment" they had. I was nervous as hell, and don't remember the description of the treatment, but it was vaguely sexual without ever actually mentioning sex.
I was led into a series of locker rooms where I was given towels, a robe, slippers, and a foot cleansing by several different women. This was all very non-sexual, almost clinical. I was finally brought into a private room where the girl took my robe and I was told to lay on the massage table face down and placed a towel over me. Actually, I don't know what she was saying, that's just what I did.
The lights were turned down, music was put on, and the girl left the room. Ten long, nervous minutes later I heard the door open and a girl said hello in Chinese. I tried to look up but it was too dark and she was slightly behind me, so I couldn't see her. The massage started, and it was like any other legitimate massage in the USA I have had. That was until she walked around the front of me and I spotted black stiletto heals. I snuck another peak, and this time saw that my masseuse was a tall Chinese girl wearing a school-girl outfit a-la Brittany Spears. For the next thirty minutes I had the most unenjoyable massage of my life. My heart was pounding and I was nervous as hell. Then the girl said "Okay, please over" and lifted the towel off my butt and held it in front of her face.
This was the moment I was dreading. From the second the "treatment" started I had a full-blown hard on. It was a nightmare. All I could think was that this was sexual harassment and I would spend the rest of my life in a Chinese prison. When the girl put the towel back down and saw the tent I had pitched, she said "Oh, Mr. Number One Massage (apparently my new name), you want special massagy?" My heart literally stopped and I didn't breath for a long time. Minutes later I mustered a "what's that" in a squeaky voice I had never heard come out of me before. Like nothing this chick said "If you have $200US I do everything. I suckie you, you fuck me all over, then you coming on my here [sic](and pointed to her face and chest)." Then she started to unbutton her shirt. Many things raced through my mind, but luckily the one that flashed the most were the letters H-I-V, and I squealed "no thanks, just regular massagy." She didn't give up easily, and proceeded to call me "cheap" and a few other things in Chinese. For ten or fifteen minutes she kept trying to reach under the towel in the hopes of enticing me into "special massagy" but I was too scared to take her up on it.
The last half of the massage was awful. Realizing that she would not make much money on me, my massage deteriorated into her slapping my back and repeatedly lifting and dropping my limbs and head. After a particularly brutal calf-pinch I rolled over and told her "massagy over, time for dinner, I go now". When I got to the front to pay they still tried to charge me for "special massagy" but I explained that there was only "regular massagy, no coming all over", paid my 450RMB ($60US) and went back to my room where I sulked in the shower for 25 minutes like I had been raped.
That night neither my sister nor any of the guys I had met on the trip wanted to get drinks. I tried to sleep for a while, but I was not tired to I went to the Karaoke Bar in the lobby for a beer. As luck would have it about 15 people from the tour were down there drinking and singing. I talked to them but one at a time they retired to their rooms until only a girl (American) and I remained. We were both drunk already, but we decided to drink until all our RMB (Yuan, or Chinese money) were gone. At 2:30am we got on the elevator to go to our rooms. The wake-up call for our flight was at 4:30am, all I could think was that it was going to be an awful day.
However, when the elevator door closed the girl, Tracy, kind of smirked. She wasn't great looking, but after the massage from hell I couldn't resist trying to hook up. We made out in the elevator until we got to my floor. I told her that I was sharing a room with my sister, and she said she was sharing with her mom, so our rooms were out of the question. We made out in the hallway for a minute, then basically fell into the emergency stairwell.
We kissed for a few more minutes in the stairs, then Tracy turned around and lifted up her skirt. We had sex on the stairs for a little while, and she ended by giving me head. As soon as we were done we walked out and went to our own rooms.
On the flight home we talked for a few minutes, but that was it. I still don't know her last name.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The World Wide Whathafuck
Wow, I am honestly stunned today. Things have been a little slow the past month and I wanted to try to stir up some material (and action), so I decided to post a personal ad online. I know there are a lot of really ignorant and/or stupid people out there, but what I don't understand is how they can afford a computer and Internet connection. Based on the spelling in some of the replies I received, there is no way a few of those people are holding down a job. They can't even convey basic thoughts in a complete sentence.
I'm just shocked.
I am going to let the ad stay up for a few days and write a complete segment on this for Monday. However, I thought it would be useful to give some background on my illustrious online dating experiences first.
I tried Internet dating only once before. About 7 years ago I posted an ad on match.com, but overall I found the experience to be frustrating. The problem was that most of the people I met were socially inept. Everyone can come off as great when they have time to write out their thoughts, grammar check them, use a thesaurus to find the perfect word, and ponder each thought backwards and forwards. But when I actually met up with some of these girls the interactions were awkward, to say the least. I emailed back and forth with around 20 girls, but only met up with a handful. Most of the time I had coffee or a drink and nothing more ever happened. The three girls I talk about below were all met on match.com.
The first girl I decided to meet up with was really cute in her picture, and sounded like a lot of fun. We picked a restaurant and met for drinks one night after work. When she showed up she was easily 35 pounds heavier than she was in her picture, she had a nasty cold, was disheveled looking, and was just a complete misfit. As soon as I saw her I thought "one and done", meaning I'll have one drink them I'm out of here. She had other plans, though. I kept trying to get the check and she would say things like "oh, let's have another", or would just order another round without saying anything. She wasn't drinking fast, or too much, she just didn't want to leave, and I didn't know what to do. To make matters worse she kept sneezing and coughing, it was nasty. Finally I excused myself to go to the men's room. I went to the back of the place, slipped a waiter $100 for our tab and went out the back door. It was the only time I ever did that, but you have to believe me that I tried every other way of ending the night politely. She was just a disaster. One my way home I stopped at a CVS and bought hand sanitizing gel and covered my hands and face in it. As soon as I got home I took a shower.
The second girl I met online I went out with for a few weeks, maybe a month. We got along well and she was fairly cool. She actually seemed very normal. She was a little younger than me, and looked like the most innocent girl ever. I ended up taking her to a black-tie party my office threw at this really nice hotel. She showed up in a long silver dress and looked fantastic. Long story short she ended up getting hammered at the party. I didn't think she drank that much, but she went from fine to out of control in 20 minutes. Finally she asked for the key to my room and said she was going to lay down for a bit, which sounded great to me. I couldn't have her walking around trashed talking to my coworkers, but I had to stay and be social for a little while longer. The party was in the lobby that had an atrium that went all the way up the center of the hotel. In each corner of the lobby there was a glass elevator. I put her in one elevator and then walked back to the party. As the elevator started going up she she spotted me and pulled up her dress to show me her garter belt. I swear to Christ I didn't provoke it at all, she did it all on her own, and about 10% of my office saw it. I almost fucking died. I was helpless, all I could do was stand there. Serves me right for bringing a stranger to an office function. Lesson was learned, and I never took her out again.
My final online dating experience was with this really sexy girl from Poland, she looked like a Russian stripper. Super sexy. I dated her for about two months. She was a little quirky, I think with a slight OCD problem, but nothing major. She seemed fairly conservative, sexually. I think it was three weeks before we even kissed. We fooled around a couple of times, but the clothes always stayed on. One night we went out in NYC and ended up back to her place. Up until this point we had only kissed, and I had no indication anything more was going to happen that night. Frankly, I thought she would ask me to sleep on the couch. We hooked up for a bit on her bed when we got home, then she went into the bathroom and took a shower. She was in there FOREVER, easily 45 minutes. I think she was betting that I would fall asleep and then she could just slide into bed and nothing would happen. When she walked out of the bathroom and saw I was awake she said "heyyyy, what are you still doing up?". I really didn't answer. She got into bed and we started hooking up again. After about 30 minutes all our clothes were off and she quietly opened the drawer of her night table and pulled out a condom. She put it on me then rolled over so I could get on top of her. It was dark in her room, but as I slid into her I saw something flash through my peripheral vision. Before my brain could process what my eye saw there was a sharp, shooting pain in on my left ass-cheek. A second later the sound waves caught up to the pain, and I heard the slap. As if I wasn't already in sensory overload, she yelled, nay screamed, "now fuck my pussy!". I cannot convey how shocked I was, but I can tell you that I almost put her head through the wall when her right hand made contact with my left butt cheek the second time. It must have looked like a rodeo, when they open the gate and the bull comes out of the chute at 40mph and twisting on all three axises while the cowboy gets flopped around like a rag doll. She slapped me about 10 more times before I finally grabbed both her wrists and rolled her over. I couldn't take anymore. We went out for a little longer, but it eventually just ended and I never went on match.com again.
More to come on my DC online dating experience.
I'm just shocked.
I am going to let the ad stay up for a few days and write a complete segment on this for Monday. However, I thought it would be useful to give some background on my illustrious online dating experiences first.
I tried Internet dating only once before. About 7 years ago I posted an ad on match.com, but overall I found the experience to be frustrating. The problem was that most of the people I met were socially inept. Everyone can come off as great when they have time to write out their thoughts, grammar check them, use a thesaurus to find the perfect word, and ponder each thought backwards and forwards. But when I actually met up with some of these girls the interactions were awkward, to say the least. I emailed back and forth with around 20 girls, but only met up with a handful. Most of the time I had coffee or a drink and nothing more ever happened. The three girls I talk about below were all met on match.com.
The first girl I decided to meet up with was really cute in her picture, and sounded like a lot of fun. We picked a restaurant and met for drinks one night after work. When she showed up she was easily 35 pounds heavier than she was in her picture, she had a nasty cold, was disheveled looking, and was just a complete misfit. As soon as I saw her I thought "one and done", meaning I'll have one drink them I'm out of here. She had other plans, though. I kept trying to get the check and she would say things like "oh, let's have another", or would just order another round without saying anything. She wasn't drinking fast, or too much, she just didn't want to leave, and I didn't know what to do. To make matters worse she kept sneezing and coughing, it was nasty. Finally I excused myself to go to the men's room. I went to the back of the place, slipped a waiter $100 for our tab and went out the back door. It was the only time I ever did that, but you have to believe me that I tried every other way of ending the night politely. She was just a disaster. One my way home I stopped at a CVS and bought hand sanitizing gel and covered my hands and face in it. As soon as I got home I took a shower.
The second girl I met online I went out with for a few weeks, maybe a month. We got along well and she was fairly cool. She actually seemed very normal. She was a little younger than me, and looked like the most innocent girl ever. I ended up taking her to a black-tie party my office threw at this really nice hotel. She showed up in a long silver dress and looked fantastic. Long story short she ended up getting hammered at the party. I didn't think she drank that much, but she went from fine to out of control in 20 minutes. Finally she asked for the key to my room and said she was going to lay down for a bit, which sounded great to me. I couldn't have her walking around trashed talking to my coworkers, but I had to stay and be social for a little while longer. The party was in the lobby that had an atrium that went all the way up the center of the hotel. In each corner of the lobby there was a glass elevator. I put her in one elevator and then walked back to the party. As the elevator started going up she she spotted me and pulled up her dress to show me her garter belt. I swear to Christ I didn't provoke it at all, she did it all on her own, and about 10% of my office saw it. I almost fucking died. I was helpless, all I could do was stand there. Serves me right for bringing a stranger to an office function. Lesson was learned, and I never took her out again.
My final online dating experience was with this really sexy girl from Poland, she looked like a Russian stripper. Super sexy. I dated her for about two months. She was a little quirky, I think with a slight OCD problem, but nothing major. She seemed fairly conservative, sexually. I think it was three weeks before we even kissed. We fooled around a couple of times, but the clothes always stayed on. One night we went out in NYC and ended up back to her place. Up until this point we had only kissed, and I had no indication anything more was going to happen that night. Frankly, I thought she would ask me to sleep on the couch. We hooked up for a bit on her bed when we got home, then she went into the bathroom and took a shower. She was in there FOREVER, easily 45 minutes. I think she was betting that I would fall asleep and then she could just slide into bed and nothing would happen. When she walked out of the bathroom and saw I was awake she said "heyyyy, what are you still doing up?". I really didn't answer. She got into bed and we started hooking up again. After about 30 minutes all our clothes were off and she quietly opened the drawer of her night table and pulled out a condom. She put it on me then rolled over so I could get on top of her. It was dark in her room, but as I slid into her I saw something flash through my peripheral vision. Before my brain could process what my eye saw there was a sharp, shooting pain in on my left ass-cheek. A second later the sound waves caught up to the pain, and I heard the slap. As if I wasn't already in sensory overload, she yelled, nay screamed, "now fuck my pussy!". I cannot convey how shocked I was, but I can tell you that I almost put her head through the wall when her right hand made contact with my left butt cheek the second time. It must have looked like a rodeo, when they open the gate and the bull comes out of the chute at 40mph and twisting on all three axises while the cowboy gets flopped around like a rag doll. She slapped me about 10 more times before I finally grabbed both her wrists and rolled her over. I couldn't take anymore. We went out for a little longer, but it eventually just ended and I never went on match.com again.
More to come on my DC online dating experience.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Friday Night Pool
I went out in Georgetown on Friday night with a group of friends. We had dinner together then headed to a bar on Wisconsin to drink some beer and shoot pool. After an hour or so on the table one friend and I starting playing against two girls that we met at the bar. The chicks were mediocre in all regards. One was blond with a curvy body, nice boobs, but her face was just OK and she wore too much make up. The other girl had a really cute body, tiny, but she wasn't that great looking.
There wasn't much else at the bar, unfortunately, these two were the best around and that is not saying much. We probably played 5 or 6 games together, but I really wasn't attracted to either of them enough to put in any effort. One of my buddies was egging me on to take the blond home, but I just wasn't interested. I suppose this is unusual for me as I will generally take anything home from the bars. My guess is that I could have taken the blond home with maybe 30 minutes of moderate work. Both girls were clearly out looking to hook up. But even that seemed like a lot of work given the potential "reward".
My friend Chuck thinks I give up too easily. I am not sure that applies in this case, since I never initiated anything. His theory is that if it's not an easy layup I walk away, which I don't think is true. First of all, I am very aggressive when it comes to talking to women, and calling them after I get a number, it's not like I go running in the other direction if they don't immediately come home with me. However, I think that I can have pretty good instincts about reading when a girl is into me, and when she's not. If I can tell that she isn't into me, I move on. There are cases where I really like someone and will go all out to keep her attention, but if I am not extremely into her I don't waste my time.
In any event, Friday night was not very productive in the female department. I stayed in Saturday night.
I've noticed a major savings in the past 4 or 6 weeks due to my lack of dating activity. I always knew that I spent a lot on dating, but I guess I never really looked at the numbers. I haven't taken a girl out to dinner since Bear, which was about 6 weeks ago, and I estimate I have saved close to a thousand dollars. If you go out twice a week for six weeks that averages about $85 per night. In DC it isn't hard to spend $85 a night on drinks and dinner, that's a fairly inexpensive night.
I guess my point is that a girlfriend is more expensive than a drug habit. We all have our vices, I suppose.
There wasn't much else at the bar, unfortunately, these two were the best around and that is not saying much. We probably played 5 or 6 games together, but I really wasn't attracted to either of them enough to put in any effort. One of my buddies was egging me on to take the blond home, but I just wasn't interested. I suppose this is unusual for me as I will generally take anything home from the bars. My guess is that I could have taken the blond home with maybe 30 minutes of moderate work. Both girls were clearly out looking to hook up. But even that seemed like a lot of work given the potential "reward".
My friend Chuck thinks I give up too easily. I am not sure that applies in this case, since I never initiated anything. His theory is that if it's not an easy layup I walk away, which I don't think is true. First of all, I am very aggressive when it comes to talking to women, and calling them after I get a number, it's not like I go running in the other direction if they don't immediately come home with me. However, I think that I can have pretty good instincts about reading when a girl is into me, and when she's not. If I can tell that she isn't into me, I move on. There are cases where I really like someone and will go all out to keep her attention, but if I am not extremely into her I don't waste my time.
In any event, Friday night was not very productive in the female department. I stayed in Saturday night.
I've noticed a major savings in the past 4 or 6 weeks due to my lack of dating activity. I always knew that I spent a lot on dating, but I guess I never really looked at the numbers. I haven't taken a girl out to dinner since Bear, which was about 6 weeks ago, and I estimate I have saved close to a thousand dollars. If you go out twice a week for six weeks that averages about $85 per night. In DC it isn't hard to spend $85 a night on drinks and dinner, that's a fairly inexpensive night.
I guess my point is that a girlfriend is more expensive than a drug habit. We all have our vices, I suppose.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Friends With Benefits
I was talking with my good friend Miguel last night about how the FWB situation with Bear recently ended. Miguel has been married for six years, has a two year old, and is "trying" for his second, possibly at this very moment (apparently it's hard to get pregnant, high school would have been much different had I known this). Miguel has been out of the game for a while now, but he seems amazed by the FWB concept. He has certainly had similar arrangements while in college, but I don't think he ever really experienced it during adult dating, so he always sounds a little surprised when I talk about FWB situations, and how often they occur.
What Miguel, and few other people realize, is that true FWB is a myth. My hypothesis is that FWB is not sustainable for more than 4 months. Inevitably, one party grows attached, and once that happens the whole arrangement is totally fucked. For some reason, that point seems to come at or around 4 months.
FWB starts harmlessly enough, usually at a function where both people consume too much alcohol (did people get laid before booze?). So, you have a few drinks, you make a few bad decisions, next thing you know it's morning you're trying to get your underwear down from the ceiling fan.
So the trend forms. You meet up, you have sex, you leave shortly thereafter. Repeat. Everyone is having fun, coming left and right, things are great. You may even brag to your friends about what a great situation you've stumbled into, and they think you're Columbus and you just discovered the New World all over again.
There are many variations on what happens next, but boiled down to its essence the sex is good but there is a lack of chemistry on one side of the equation. Then things change, and not for the better. I believe there are two main causes of the eventual FWB rift. The first is that one of the friends finds a new friend. The other is one of the friends starts getting slightly stronger feelings, and tries the impossible, taking the FWB out of friend territory and into a dating situation. Whatever the cause, the result is no more friends, and no more benefits. Not only are you no longer friends, but generally there is a deep resentment and anger.
Here's the real problem with FWB: the reason you are FWB and not dating is because one of the two friends does not really like the other person that much. If there were mutually strong feelings you would be dating instead of just fucking. One of you is a booty call. It's kind of like that saying in poker "If you can't pick out the sucker at the table in the first thirty minutes, you're the sucker". If you're OK with the FWB arrangement and not looking for other sources of entertainment, you're the booty call.
Here's something else to consider with FWB: you can be FWB with someone you're not really attracted to. I think this is a good thing. I have slept with a ton of chicks (unfortunately, literally) that I was not attracted to but who were great in bed. The fact is ugly girls try harder in bed. Hot chicks think that sex is great for the guy just because they showed up. After one or two times with the hot chick that is lousy in bed the guy gets sick of the her just lying there, we want some interaction, and ugly/heavy girls never disappoint. I obviously like motorcycles, so I will put this into motorcycle terms. Harley riders have a saying: Fat chicks are like Jap bikes, they're fun to ride but no one likes to be seen on them. So, FWB is great because you can have great sex with someone you wouldn't necessarily want to take out to meet your friends.
I have had many FWB, and I really enjoy it for the first few months. I think the reason that 4 months seems to be the limit is because it's just long enough to get you through a typical northern US winter. Maybe FWB can last longer is Siberia or Alaska, but here in the continental US 4 months is my magic number.
It is too bad, because if FWB was sustainable for more than 4 months it would be the perfect arrangement. If anyone has been able to pull FWB off for significantly longer than 4 months (maybe a year) and knows the secret to it, I would certainly be interested in hearing about it.
What Miguel, and few other people realize, is that true FWB is a myth. My hypothesis is that FWB is not sustainable for more than 4 months. Inevitably, one party grows attached, and once that happens the whole arrangement is totally fucked. For some reason, that point seems to come at or around 4 months.
FWB starts harmlessly enough, usually at a function where both people consume too much alcohol (did people get laid before booze?). So, you have a few drinks, you make a few bad decisions, next thing you know it's morning you're trying to get your underwear down from the ceiling fan.
So the trend forms. You meet up, you have sex, you leave shortly thereafter. Repeat. Everyone is having fun, coming left and right, things are great. You may even brag to your friends about what a great situation you've stumbled into, and they think you're Columbus and you just discovered the New World all over again.
There are many variations on what happens next, but boiled down to its essence the sex is good but there is a lack of chemistry on one side of the equation. Then things change, and not for the better. I believe there are two main causes of the eventual FWB rift. The first is that one of the friends finds a new friend. The other is one of the friends starts getting slightly stronger feelings, and tries the impossible, taking the FWB out of friend territory and into a dating situation. Whatever the cause, the result is no more friends, and no more benefits. Not only are you no longer friends, but generally there is a deep resentment and anger.
Here's the real problem with FWB: the reason you are FWB and not dating is because one of the two friends does not really like the other person that much. If there were mutually strong feelings you would be dating instead of just fucking. One of you is a booty call. It's kind of like that saying in poker "If you can't pick out the sucker at the table in the first thirty minutes, you're the sucker". If you're OK with the FWB arrangement and not looking for other sources of entertainment, you're the booty call.
Here's something else to consider with FWB: you can be FWB with someone you're not really attracted to. I think this is a good thing. I have slept with a ton of chicks (unfortunately, literally) that I was not attracted to but who were great in bed. The fact is ugly girls try harder in bed. Hot chicks think that sex is great for the guy just because they showed up. After one or two times with the hot chick that is lousy in bed the guy gets sick of the her just lying there, we want some interaction, and ugly/heavy girls never disappoint. I obviously like motorcycles, so I will put this into motorcycle terms. Harley riders have a saying: Fat chicks are like Jap bikes, they're fun to ride but no one likes to be seen on them. So, FWB is great because you can have great sex with someone you wouldn't necessarily want to take out to meet your friends.
I have had many FWB, and I really enjoy it for the first few months. I think the reason that 4 months seems to be the limit is because it's just long enough to get you through a typical northern US winter. Maybe FWB can last longer is Siberia or Alaska, but here in the continental US 4 months is my magic number.
It is too bad, because if FWB was sustainable for more than 4 months it would be the perfect arrangement. If anyone has been able to pull FWB off for significantly longer than 4 months (maybe a year) and knows the secret to it, I would certainly be interested in hearing about it.
Still Sick and Neighbors
I can't seem to shake this cold I have. I was feeling pretty good last Thursday and was looking forward to going out this past weekend, but when Saturday night rolled around I was still coughing and decided to stay in. I had a bunch of friends out in Georgetown, but bailed out and ended up staying in all weekend. I am going to China in a few weeks and want to be over this cold before I leave.
I have a few new developments in my neighborhood.
This summer I was looking at a house a few doors down from mine when the real estate agent asked me if I had met the "flight attendants". I said no, I had no idea what he was talking about. Turns out that the house next door to the one I was looking at (5 doors down from my place) is shared by a bunch of "hot" female flight attendants. The real estate agent was a douche bag of the highest caliber, so I was skeptical what his idea of "hot" was, and dismissed his comment. Also, I spent a month on a ladder redoing the front of my house, if there was a troupe of hot flight attendants living nearby, I was confident I would have spotted them. Turns out I was wrong. I was taking down my Christmas lights on Sunday (I know, they were up way too long, but I have been sick) when two very attractive women walked out of the house the real estate agent told me about. I have no idea if they were flight attendants, they weren't in uniform or anything, but they were good looking. I am going to throw a party this spring when my place is done, I will have to figure out a way to invite them.
In another "neighborhood" twist, I keep seeing a really cute girl parking her car near my house. I walk my dog every night when I get home from work, and this girl must be on a similar schedule, because she is always parking her car when I am walking down that particular street (I swear I am not stalking her, really). She's my type: tall, skinny, brunette, cute face. She drives a Jeep which I generally take as a sign that a woman is low maintenance. I only started seeing her the past month or so. I let the dog sniff around longer than normal when she's parking, in the hopes I can strike up a conversation with her, but we've only managed to exchange smiles. I need to teach my dog some useful tricks, like tackling hot women as they get out of their cars. What good does it do me for her to "give me five" or "play dead", she has to start earning her keep around the house and get me laid once in a while!
Last thing. I have a friend (actually, a friend of a friend) in NYC who I saw when I was up there a few weeks ago. His wife, Em, is really cool, she has partied with my group of friends many times, and is a lot of fun to hang out with. I was talking to one girl at a club and when I walked back to our table Em asked if I was single. I said yes, but was somewhat surprised because she has seen me take girls home from the bars before.
I guess she just thought I was a slime ball...I don't think I am, maybe I am, but I would never be so open about it if I was.
Em said she has a college friend that lives in DC she wants to set me up with. She just sent me the girls name and email address this morning, and said the chick is expecting to hear from me. I don't think I have ever emailed someone I never met before, the phone is a little more traditional, but I'll give it a shot. Em describes her as "cute, and totally non-crazy", not exactly a ringing endorsement, is it?
I have a few new developments in my neighborhood.
This summer I was looking at a house a few doors down from mine when the real estate agent asked me if I had met the "flight attendants". I said no, I had no idea what he was talking about. Turns out that the house next door to the one I was looking at (5 doors down from my place) is shared by a bunch of "hot" female flight attendants. The real estate agent was a douche bag of the highest caliber, so I was skeptical what his idea of "hot" was, and dismissed his comment. Also, I spent a month on a ladder redoing the front of my house, if there was a troupe of hot flight attendants living nearby, I was confident I would have spotted them. Turns out I was wrong. I was taking down my Christmas lights on Sunday (I know, they were up way too long, but I have been sick) when two very attractive women walked out of the house the real estate agent told me about. I have no idea if they were flight attendants, they weren't in uniform or anything, but they were good looking. I am going to throw a party this spring when my place is done, I will have to figure out a way to invite them.
In another "neighborhood" twist, I keep seeing a really cute girl parking her car near my house. I walk my dog every night when I get home from work, and this girl must be on a similar schedule, because she is always parking her car when I am walking down that particular street (I swear I am not stalking her, really). She's my type: tall, skinny, brunette, cute face. She drives a Jeep which I generally take as a sign that a woman is low maintenance. I only started seeing her the past month or so. I let the dog sniff around longer than normal when she's parking, in the hopes I can strike up a conversation with her, but we've only managed to exchange smiles. I need to teach my dog some useful tricks, like tackling hot women as they get out of their cars. What good does it do me for her to "give me five" or "play dead", she has to start earning her keep around the house and get me laid once in a while!
Last thing. I have a friend (actually, a friend of a friend) in NYC who I saw when I was up there a few weeks ago. His wife, Em, is really cool, she has partied with my group of friends many times, and is a lot of fun to hang out with. I was talking to one girl at a club and when I walked back to our table Em asked if I was single. I said yes, but was somewhat surprised because she has seen me take girls home from the bars before.
I guess she just thought I was a slime ball...I don't think I am, maybe I am, but I would never be so open about it if I was.
Em said she has a college friend that lives in DC she wants to set me up with. She just sent me the girls name and email address this morning, and said the chick is expecting to hear from me. I don't think I have ever emailed someone I never met before, the phone is a little more traditional, but I'll give it a shot. Em describes her as "cute, and totally non-crazy", not exactly a ringing endorsement, is it?
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