The Post My Mother and I Will Never Discuss:
Today my messages contained something out of the ordinary. No attempt to get to know me, flatter me, or recommend themselves. No mention of my profile, or the things we TOTALLY have in common, or how I'm very pretty and probably not interested but just in case they're super hoping to hear from me...
All it said was this:
"Hey, would you be interested in casual sex?"
I clicked it immediately, ready with my usual cutting sort of reply I keep handy for those disrespectin'--something along the lines of "Not with you."
Maybe just a "BAHAHAHAHA! No."
Only, he is hot. Like, smoking hot. Game-changing hot. Like if Ryan Gosling told me, hey, so, we can bang, but like, no one gets to know about it.
Obviously that's a bad example, because Ryan Gosling would fall desperately in love with me.
I am not a casual sex girl. I fall more into the qualifications of "Tease" and "Make Out Slut." I'll chat you up, kiss you, and send you on your way. No commitment, no one gets hurt, everyone has a good time, and I don't have to worry that some stranger is going to be disappointed by my naked body or lack of flexibility or leave me with a case of urine that burns.
Not that I disapprove of this past time, or have any moral or religious hang-ups. I simply do not understand how it is done. There have been moments, I'll admit, where I think, screw it. This guy has been talking to me for an hour and he is only getting dumber. I'll just give him a fake number and tell him he has to leave early because I have softball practice or I have to meet my cousin for brunch or I'm actually a vampire and if the sun comes up before I make it to my secret spot I will burn to ash, and I can't reveal where my hidden coffin dirt lies lest he try to stake me in my death-like slumber.
Can I just say, "go away before I'm awake so I can pretend this never happened? Thanks in advance, it's been real." Men like honesty, right?
Yet I have never been able to do it. I chicken out. Generally I weigh the risks versus the results and I'm pretty sure the result "herpes?" trumps any mild itch that might need scratching.
Better a mild itch than a permanent one.
I've consulted friends on this matter, and they have assured me it is not rocket science and that I am severely over-thinking it.
But if someone, off the Internets, has openly admitted he has no interest in conversation, just straight sex, how does that work? Does he just show up at the door, and we walk, without speaking, to the bedroom? What kind of greeting do I use? "Hey, bed's right here?"
Do we fall into each other's hungry arms without a word? Am I supposed to serve him appetizers, maybe a drink first? Make some small talk? What if I hate him immediately, or he's a terrible kisser? Can I just tap him on the shoulder and say, "Mmk, you gave it your best but I don't see this working?"
Maybe "Oh, by the way... I have HIV, you're cool with that, right?" might work better if I need to clear the room.
So I responded, trying to get the details here. I admitted that it wasn't my usual style, how did one go about having "casual sex?"
The answer: "Pretty much no strings attached, just getting together and having sex. We could do something first if you want (drinks, movies, whatever), I just haven't been laid in a while with school being so busy and wanted to be up front about what I want. Are you interested?"
Huh. Okay, so at least I can get liquored up beforehand, but how do I sit across the table from someone who I know doesn't give a crap about my story about my cats and is just waiting for me to shut up and take my shirt off. But like, openly. That's already been acknowledged. I know it. He knows it. My cats know it. It's like being a prostitute only I'm getting paid in penis.
While I was pondering the strange-itude of all of this, a perfectly nice and attractive personal trainer messaged me, and lost in my new masculine attitude of "Sex. Whatever. Pssh." I immediately asked if he wanted to meet for a beer. He shyly told me he'd like to get to know me better first.
Men are so weird.