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.