Guest Post- Rookie Mistakes part 2

Collette here… back with part 2!

Lee. I’m almost positive this was a fake name anyway, so let’s just keep it.
In my wilder days, I had mostly co-ed evenings out. I was lucky enough to be part of a somewhat large circle of bar-hopping friends who as a whole felt very comfortable in just about any place that sold alcohol. Mostly because we would swarm in somewhat early and by halfway through the evening, everyone in the place would know us. More or less. This dynamic was fantastic for having a good night out, but not the best for meeting new guys. Because our guy-girl ratio was fairly even, most other guys wouldn’t bother making moves because the assumption was always that we were there as couples. This wave of going out en masse lasted a good long while, but when the swell died down so did my desire to go to bars at all, let alone meet new men there.
Enter the Girls Night Out.
One weekend I had some friends visiting from out of town, plus their friends, plus a group of girls from various smaller local friend circles get together to celebrate that age-old tradition that ends up with at least one raunchy story. I happened to be the star of this one.
We spent the whole evening in our circle, dancing, laughing, and drinking who-knows-what, and taking bomb shots at a time when they were at the height of their popularity. The difference between me and most of the lovely ladies I was with this particular evening was that I would be going home to an empty house and they would either be going home to their boyfriends, fiances, or husbands, or calling their boyfriends/fiances/husbands as soon as they got back to their hotel rooms. No fair!
I realized around midnight that I was a tad jealous and began to scan the bar for some testosterone of my own to sample. And when I say scan, I mean look around and try to figure out if the haziness was either the smoke in the room or my being far too drunk. Spoiler alert: It was my being far too drunk.
Rookie Mistake #1. Never get THAT drunk when you’re planning on having a one-nighter.
But it was too late. I was on a mission. At some point a guy who was with someone I checked out a few times came over and started talking but it was loud and I wasn’t listening to him anyway. And being the perfect lady I am, I turned to this fine gentleman and asked him his name. Let’s call him Jack.
“I’m Jack,” he said.
“That’s great Jack. Hi. I really haven’t been listening to you at all and I don’t care. Who’s your friend over there?”
“Him? That’s Lee.”
“Lee. Is his girlfriend here?” ***I learned from a mistake. See entry: Wes.***
“Lee doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
“Perfect!”
I get up and sit next to Lee and do whatever it is I thought was a sexy move, but having been drunk the exact details elude me. It must have worked because next thing I know we’re making out in the bar, which is something I actually can’t stand to see. Ever. And here I am committing the same crime. Oh well.
At this point the girl code kicks in and my ladies come over and try to save me from poor decisions by explaining how it’s time to go. I was already invested in this boy. “It’s time to go home,” they said. “I’ll go home,” I said. “But not with you. I want Lee to take me home.” They were very much against this idea, but his boys assured them that everything would be fine. There was a significant amount of back-and-forth and I finally managed to convince my girls that I wouldn’t die this evening.
Rookie Mistake #2. Never let your friends leave without you when you’ve got no other way home, save a random guy you’ve known for 20 minutes.
We all left together, my friends getting in their cars while Lee and I got in a cab. We were heading to his place.
Rookie Mistake #3. Keep the O.N.S. on home turf.
You never know what you’re going to walk into at someone else’s house, but you’ve got plenty of home court advantage at your own place. Some may disagree with me on this one. But I’m sticking by it. Especially because when I stumbled into Lee’s place I thought I was done for.
The place looked like a frat house and was definitely shady. I’m thinking he had about 3 or 4 (thousand) roommates. I immediately changed my mind. I regrouped in the bathroom and when I came out I asked if it was okay that we went to my place instead. I told him his place was scary and we’d have much more fun at my own. I don’t know if that was entirely truthful, but at least I didn’t have to worry about roommates sitting by the bedroom door giggling at their friend’s conquest.
In the morning, I realized how stupid I had been the night before and how my friends were probably so mad at me and scared that they just let their friend go off to certain doom. I began the text parade. When Lee woke up we said hi to each other and I complimented him on his tattoo. Then it was awkward.
Rookie Mistake #4. There was no exit strategy.
I was new at this and hadn’t thought that far ahead. It was Saturday now and I had absolutely no plans. No big work meeting to get to, no pressing errands to run, no real reason to kick him out. He floated around the bedroom like a ghost, probably also trying to figure out the nicest way to make a run for it. In the end, my texting is what saved us from the awkwardness. When he saw my phone, you would have thought he had an epiphany that suddenly gave him the cure for cancer. “Oh! My phone. I should probably call ____. Is it here? I think it’s in the car…I should go get it.” As soon as he was out the door I rushed over to the window, kind of hoping he would just drive away. He didn’t. He just sat in the driver’s seat. For a while. When my phone rang I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Lee.
“Hey. I think I’m just going to go home…?”
“Yeah that’s probably a good idea. Are you good with directions?”
“Yeah, I’ll make it back okay.”
“Good. Give me a buzz if you get lost.”
And he was off.
Rookie Mistakes #5,6,7.
I didn’t delete him from my phone.
I ended up going back to the same bar fairly shortly after our evening. I didn’t see him (thankfully) but I did recognize a couple of friends. Turns out at least one of them worked there. I could no longer go back to this bar. Bummer.
I texted him a few weeks later because I was out in his neighborhood and wanted to meet up again. He said that sounded like a good idea, but later flaked out. I spent the rest of the evening sulking and feeling rejected. Ugh. What a lame-o.
I made plenty of mistakes with Lee.
And I learned at least one lesson: your phone can be a lifesaver in some situations, but in others, it’s your own worst enemy.
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Facebook for Singles

I think Facebook mocks single women in their 30’s.

Babies, kids, houses, husbands… engagements,pregnancies… sometimes it’s torturous.

The constant barrage of posts that are reminders of everything I DON’T have.

Most of the time I don’t care… honestly, I love the updates of all my friends’ lives…I’m thrilled for them.

BUT this is where I draw the damn line.

I’m making a proclamation…

creepyasself… that’s what I would name him.

If I need to see every update of the whereabouts of  “Archibald, Nickolas, Buddy, Charlie, Jack, Jingle” or whatever the hell you call your creepy-ass elf-on-a shelf… I will start posting what I did at the bar last night with my date and include photos.

You’ve been warned.

Maybe I need some rules?

Apparently I’m going to need some rules….

Rule:  Do not go to the dentist on the day you have a first date with someone. A half smile is not sexy when you’re trying to full face smile and it’s just that those muscles CAN’T MOVE into the full one.

Hope this wears off before I get there.

NORMAL!!!

I think, no I KNOW, I went on a normal pretty successful date last week.  He was a little smaller than I had thought (based off photos) but he was sweet, nice and we talked from the moment I walked up to him.

He had a beer waiting for me when I got there, and not a Miller or a bud.. but a craft beer.. and a good one too.  He won points without even realizing it at that point.

I couldn’t pin point one wrong thing with him…none of my normal red flags popped up.  He was genuinely interested in me and hearing about my life.  We seem to have a lot in common.

We closed the restaurant and then he walked me to my car.

Hug. Kiss on the cheek.  And a, “I’d like to do this again, I had a great time.”  before parting.

 

He called 2 days later.

We’re going out tonight on date number 2.

Updates will be forthcoming.

Guest Post: Rookie Mistakes pt. 1

Collette back for more:

In the Pantheon of men I’ve been with, the Rookie Mistakes hold a very special place. Most fond memories are the result of attempts to engage in one-nighters a la the cool, casual women I admired pulling them off flawlessly in all the TV shows and movies I’d seen over the years. As it turns out, I was never as smooth as these ladies. Here are some highlights for your reading pleasure:

Wes. Among the first attempts, Wes stands out because he wasn’t a real, true, O.N.S. I kind of sort of knew him and saw him around a bit. He kissed me at a club once, but I wasn’t interested at the time. When we were around each other physically, we exchanged a few flirty eye fucks here and there and didn’t say much outside of “hi” to each other. When we exchanged electronic communication, it was always risque but we never acted on it.

Then one evening I finally had to ask what the point of all this was. Were we going to get down to business, or weren’t we? As it turns out, we were. I threw on a cleavage-baring top, some pants that made my ass look fabulous, threw a less scandalous top in a bag and headed out the door. When I got there, he offered me a beer, which I accepted. He had one as well and we stood there with a significant space between us as we sipped our beers wondering what the next move was going to be and who was going to make it. It was me. The beer was shitty anyway, so I put it down and told him, “You know, I could have had a beer at home, alone.” To which the answer was very obviously, “let’s get naked.” It turns out all that build-up was for naught as his performance was less than stellar.

Rookie Mistake #1. It can’t be a real One Night Stand if there’s been all that tension leading up to it. We had far too much time and communication before hooking up. I had known him for months, maybe even a year or more at this point. When it was time to go, I tried to make it the least amount of awkward as possible. While he was in the bathroom, I switched tops to my “I’m not actually a whore” shirt and was fixing my hair in the mirror. When he came back in the room he seemed thrown off and asked, “Did you bring an extra shirt with you?” To which I replied, “Yes. You didn’t think I came here to talk, did you?” He had no response. He just stood there looking far too beautiful for someone that bad in bed.

Just as I was doing cartwheels inside at my ultimate victory at having conquered this man and shown him up in the sack, I turned to double check my eye makeup in the mirror before saying my goodbyes. All illusions of being a sexy, independent woman who can do what she wants and with whomever she wants began to falter. Smiling back at me from the corner of the mirror was a picture of Wes and a blondish girl with curly hair cheek-to-cheek and looking very much like a couple. As I turned back to him, I pointed over to the picture and asked, “Who’s that?” Still confused by my actions, he answered very matter-of-factly, “That’s Danielle. My girlfriend.”

Rookie Mistake #2. Make sure they don’t have girlfriends/fiances/wives. I shouldn’t have assumed he was single. Now I had to worry about feeling guilty for being party to a cheating. Not my cup of tea. I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh of annoyance as I started to leave. I patted him on the chest and gave him a sarcastic, “nice” as I walked out the door. It should have been simple: go over there, have a great time, go home victorious, never call again.

Rookie mistakes turned my supposed big win into a definite big fail when all I had to show for my efforts was half a can of crappy beer that was still more enjoyable than being naked with a great looking guy. Add guilt for being the “other woman”.

At least I got one thing right–I never called again.

With Great Hotness Comes Great Power

We met late afternoon in a well-populated public area.

He looked older than I had anticipated (he was graying around his temples), though I knew he was 39 when I agreed to meeting up, and it through me off for a moment.  I was completely out of my comfort zone, but to be honest—DATING is out of my comfort zone—so I just went with it.

He smiled and moved in for a hug when he met me, said it had been a day…and since I’m a hugging-kinda girl, I obliged, though awkwardly before we walked into the restaurant to grab a drink. Drink in hand, we headed back outside towards the benches to sit and get to know each other.

We sat.  His arm wrapped across the back on the bench and his hand landed directly on my back… right around the bra mark, open-palmed… and stayed.  Not only did it stay there but it made circles, it rubbed… IT STAYED.

It was creepy. I was shocked. I said nothing but my inner voice was screaming—GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!! So instead of saying anything, I moved.  I twisted my body, I moved further up on the seat, I leaned forward…..I moved back. I thought my look would get him. Nope. I did everything but say, “Keep your hands to yourself creeper!!” (Which I SHOULD have and in the future WILL DO).  Instead, I was uncomfortable and eventually I was able to maneuver myself around so that his hand was forced to drop off.

When his hands weren’t on me, he seemed normal.  We talked. He’s had a cool life…lived in a lot of places, seemed to have a lot of things in common with me.  He asked a lot about my job… apparently my profession is a favorite of his to date (an opinion I’m learning that is shared by many) and we seemed to be getting a long well.    I could almost forgive the handsy beginning we had… almost.

We walked around the area for a bit, stopping in one of my favorite home décor stores with the pretense of him getting some tea for his mom.  And here’s where we go completely downhill.

I’ll give you the quick and dirty, play by play.

At the end of the tea aisle—throws an arm around me and hugs me close, “How tall are you again?” (Imagine a creepy whispering voice)  “5’10” (I’m staring down at his shoulder, weirded out)  “I love tall girls.”. “I like tall me too” I maneuver out from under his arm.

Walking up the condiment aisle— I’m talking about mustard…he grabs me and kisses me. Not just a peck but the beginning of a full-out make-out kiss…which is CREEPY so I back off and go down another aisle.

Things that register in my brain:  I’m in a store. Its 5:30 and Creeper McCreepson has now kissed me.

We leave the store.  I’m done.  Crossing him off my list of future dates and mentally writing this blog when he grabs my hand as we’re walking. He’s talking… I’m focused on the hands and on the second upswing; I swing my hand out of his.

I’m chatting politely, no idea on the topic, and he insists on walking me to my car.  My inner voice is laughing and reminding me how grateful I am that my good friend lives around the corner from here (Escape plans are going to be KEY for all future dates!).

At the car- “So it was nice to meet you…” I say as he sweeps into a Sporto move and twists around me so that I’m now pinned against my car and he is leaning down for the make-out.  My hands are up on his chest.

He continues to lean in, I continue to lean away, and twist from the car.

He wants to see me again. Says I need to “Help him out and tell him another time to see him”.  I smile as I get in my car and say, “Ok” as my inner voice screams, “NO WAY CREEPER!!” and I drive away.

“With great hotness comes great power” one of my dear friends told me upon relation of this story, “The power to say NO and take your fucking hands off me”.

Lesson learned.

Guest Post: One-Night Stands, the Rules

Upon hearing of our email dialogue, our good friend Collette decided to weigh in….

Hi everyone, Collette (wondering who I am?  Meet me in the Meet Our Friends section!) here… I’m loving the chatter and asked if I could add in some of my own thoughts…

 

Here’s the thing:  I’ve been in “guy mode” when it comes to the O.N.S. for many years–since college?  But it took me a decent chunk of time to figure out the right way to go about it.   I wouldn’t say I’ve perfected it, but I’ve definitely learned from enough rookie mistakes to know how to go about it if that’s what I want to do.

The Rules:

BEFORE YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE:

  • Make the decision before you go out that you’re taking someone home.  Once you’ve made this decision, it gives you the freedom to do the important things.  Like hiding your piles of laundry and locking up your valuables.  Let’s face it, you may be willing to bring random guy A home with you, but a quick sweep of your boudoir while you’re in the bathroom could reveal some personal details you just aren’t into sharing (like your collection of Lisa Frank sticker books you’ve been hanging onto since the 90s). And you definitely don’t want him walking out the door in the morning with your iphone or expensive jewelry in his pocket.

WHILE YOU’RE OUT:

  • Congratulations, you’re going to feast upon some sexy man meat this evening.  I don’t care if it’s your first time making this decision or your 50th.  DO NOT GET DRUNK.  When you get sloppy and lose control it might be easier to make poor decisions that end up being fun, but you can (and probably will) also make poor decisions that end up scary (read:  ceiling fright, photos of a questionable nature, how did my car get here?, etc.).
  • Pace yourself.  If you’re lucky enough to have picked a spot for your prowling that happens to be overrun with prospects, don’t go crazy like a kid in a candy store.  Scope out the scenery, talk to a few people, check out the ring fingers.  Minimize drama.  You are a single, attractive, confident women who is DTF.  There’s really no scenario in which you can’t take home the single guy of your choice.  Know that.  Just make sure he’s single.  There should be a couple solid hours of floating around before you make your decision.  Use them wisely.

YOU’VE CHOSEN YOUR TARGET:

  • Flirt all you want.  It’s your show now.  But let’s be honest with each other.  If you know too much (last name, where he works, where he went to school, what sports league he plays in, etc.) you know you’re going to Facebook him later.  You will.  And when Facebook searches come up fruitless, you’re going to Google.  Then hit up LinkedIn.  It’s a sick cycle.  Avoid it.  Your name is Joe?  That’s great.  You live somewhere in America, good for you.  Your job is blah blah blah…okay just shut up and let me envision you with your shirt off.
  • The Big Move (patent pending):  You’re going to get tired of the chit-chat or you’re going to start learning too many details (see above) or you’re going to start to get too many beers/drinks into the evening (see above, above).  When you break up the conversation to indicate that you should really get going, it’s getting late, etc.,  he’s either going to ask to call you or you’re going to ask to call him.  Either way, a number is getting exchanged.  Here’s your scenario:

Girl:  Wow, I’ve got a big day tomorrow.  Looks like the time got away from me while I was talking with you.  I should get going.
Guy:  Aww, already?  That’s a shame.  Maybe I can call you later?
Girl:  Sure, what’s your number?  I’ll text you and you’ll have mine.
Guy: xxx-xxx-xxxx
Girl (texting):  Hey, it’s (insert name or fake name here).  Come home with me. (Or other obvious, salacious, direct, but not-too-skanky text.)

  • *99.9% of the time he will come home with you.  The ones that come up with some reason not to have something they’re hiding (fiance, lives in parent’s basement with assortment of hair dolls, small penis).  If he doesn’t go for it, tell him it’s his loss and move on.  Seriously.  Walk away.

DO THE DEED.

  • Be smart here.  Your goal is sex, not breeding humans or diseases.

MORNING AFTER:

  • Coffee is fine, try not to drink it together at your table.  He can sip his while he’s getting ready to go.  You can drink yours while you’re busying yourself with other things.  Skip breakfast.  Definitely don’t go out to breakfast.  If he’s taking his time putting his clothes back on and you happen to notice what a fucking win you just scored, and it seems pretty obvious he’s good for another go, feel free to take advantage.  Especially considering that this is the only time it’s okay to sleep with a O.N.S. a second time.
  • He’s out the door.  Do your happy dance all you want.  But make sure you DELETE him from your phone.  Get all the romantic ideas out of your head about how he’s the perfect guy and it’s kismet and you’re going to run off together and take over the world.  While you’re at it, get all the dirty ideas out of your head as well about how you’re only going to call each other after 11pm any given night.  It’s too easy to obsess over what things mean or what might be when you have access to this guy.  Control yourself.  Hit delete.
  • If he wants to see you again, he’ll still have your info and you can decide later what you want to do with that.  For now, be thankful that you had a wonderful evening that was all on your terms.

This is how men have operated forever.  Enjoy the feeling for once!

But it sure beats a Post-it, doesn’t it?

Text transcripts:

Sporto: I’m not sure what’s going on but I just need to know if you still want me to come tonight or not.

Me: I’m not planning on being out late and I’m not drinking.

Sporto: I know that.  You didn’t answer my question, do you want to see me or not?

There were a million things I could have said here..but I went with my gut and here’s what came out:

Me: Honestly, I’ve thought a lot about our conversation on Saturday and I really think we’re just on two different paths.  I don’t think we should see each other anymore.

Sporto: Wow.

Sporto: You just did that in a text.

The Guy With All The Feelings

This has to end.

This night with Sporto and DramaK resulted in me coming to 2 very important conclusions:

1)      I can not be involved in the bizarre triangle of crazy with these two.

2)    I have to end this and it has to be tonight.

So let’s be clear….I’m not his girlfriend.  We aren’t in a relationship.  I had stated on numerous occasions that I wasn’t looking for a relationship right now… he knew my situation from the beginning.  He liked me.  A lot.  I knew it. He told me. I hung out with him because he asked, seemed harmless enough and as my Dating Oracle had told me, “It’s good practice.” And if I’m being truly honest, the attention felt good.

So as we pulled up to his apartment (after an awkward ride home), I tried talking to him about it.Which in itself was awkward for me, I’ve never been in this position before.  I explained all this to him, again,and in the course of the 30 minute conversation he asked me, about 10 times, “Do you like me?  Cause that’s all that really matters….do you like me?” and I answered, every time “Yes, I like you..but not as much as you like me”.

He’d get quiet and contemplative, then he’d tell me that I don’t make it feel like I like him…. and I… I mean, it just seemed so weak and pathetic (And yes, he had been drinking all day as well…but still a drunk,whiny dude is not sexy) coming out of his mouth that I was instantly unattracted to him.  And then… I had deja vu.

This was a mirror of me. I’ve had this conversation. I’ve been in Sporto’s shoes. And I’m 1000% percent sure I felt weak and pathetic as that person having that conversation but I did it anyway. So I tried to respond and act the way I wanted that other dude to act toward me.  I answered his questions. Validated his feelings. Stayed honest and direct.

And that’s when it dawned on me…..I am going to hurt him…seriously hurt him if I continue to see him.  He likes me too much for the way I want this to go and it’s not fair to him. I know this situation is not fair to him, nor is it what he wants and I know he’s never going to actually be ok with it.  I know, because of his feelings for me, that he’ll swallow all of that and still hang out with me, taking what I give him… and it seems so evil of me to do that.  I don’t want to do that.  I don’t want to be “that guy” that takes advantage of those feelings and hurts someone when I know I can stop it.

I want to say this again, I made myself  pretty clear about what I want or don’t want in all of this right now. His response, “Sometimes I feel like you just want to make out with me”… let’s be clear dude.. if I just want to make out with someone, I’m not calling you with all your feelings… I can just make out with anyone I want.  I’m a girl.  I’m attractive. I can go to a bar and do that with whoever… I wouldn’t call the guy with all the feelings..trust me. But I did like hanging out with you, until tonight, you know when my conscious caught up with me.

Again, I tried to be honest. I told him I didn’t want to hurt him…and that if it hurts him, we shouldn’t see each other. He flipped. “I’m going to be hurt either way” he yelled.  I answered, “If that’s what you think… you shouldn’t be in this” …and there was that damn mirror again.

He says that he knew what he was getting into, he was prepared to be patient and that he just needed me to know/hear from him where he was coming from. He knew this and was ok with it.

So I agreed to give it another chance and hung out with him on Sunday anyway.  We had fun. It was casual. It was nice but I’m waiting for the shoe to drop again…. like I’m dying this slow death.  And I’m pretty sure that I need to just completely cut the ties but I’m having a hard time figuring out how best to do this.

Without hurting him.  Or until reality catches up with me.