My posts on twitter can easily be misinterpretted. This is most certainly not an accident. In order to fully understand some of them you have to be there. They may not be what you think they’re about. But they’re all true.
Now because I know that my tweets are.. not always rated G, and some of the things that I write about even here, I get approached and invited on quite a bit of “scandalous” style adventures. Do I partake in some? Well, obviously I’d be lying if I didn’t say… it’s my business 😉
I met a cute guy at Mashup last week. Very pretty eyes… had never been to one of the events. I was pretty partied out at this point. Nothing against anyone, but damn if that was a long week. And I was a little bit disappointed about the dark horse returning home.
Still, I genuinely was interested in talking to this guy more. He didn’t give off the usual douchebag vibe, and like I said, he was cute. So we exchanged numbers. It wasn’t really a big deal, and I wasn’t going to call him. When he couldn’t spell my name right, even when corrected, I had essentially written it off anyway.
The week that would never die continued. I was approached by a few sleezeballs later, and in days following. It’s part of the consequences of having my moniker, and writing about sex in any form.
Plus: there’s always options.
Minus: alot of them think they can just get it with little to no effort.
Thankfully I’m smart enough to know better.
So last night when I got a call about hanging out after 1130 on a Sunday night, it was a no brainer. It wasn’t going to happen. Not with a guy I just met at some business party. That right is reserved for people I am friends with already, have history with.. or want to make some history with.
I know the fixation some people have with one night stands. Of strings of booty calls and strippers. I have plenty of friends that do that. Hell, I don’t think I know anyone that hasn’t had a one night stand.
This isn’t the first time. It won’t be the last time.
I wasn’t going to play dumb. I figured that I would give him a few minutes grace before going straight to it.
“We could go to your place or mine… I don’t care.”
“Well I just moved in here and there are boxes everywhere still.”
We talked for about 5 minutes and then I cut to the chase.
“I know what you’re asking. It’s not exactly prime time for a date, and I don’t do the booty call thing. It’s Sunday night and I’ve been planning a trip to Portland to see someone… so I’m sure there’s a list of numbers you could be calling right now, and I’d reccomend doing that.”
“Actually, there aren’t..”
“Ah well that’s too bad. I’m a bit old fashioned in that I don’t give that stuff away. Many women do though so I’m sure it won’t be hard for you to find.”
Direct approach to a direct approach. That’s a watered down version. But he seemed pleasantly surprised by my demeanor, even though he was turned down.
Yes, a woman who is boistorous and confident in her sexuality can actually be classy, real, and honest. I’m as real as it gets and a horrible liar. And despite my poly lifestyle I still have standards.
I appreciated the honesty last night. It says a lot about character. There are too many douchebags that go about it holding a front its something else. Let’s call the duck the duck and not play pretend here. I don’t have time to waste on reindeer games.