3 Strike Outs and a Criagslist Date

The weekend got off to a poor start on Thursday.
I arranged a date for Thursday evening with a girl I hung out with once every handful of weeks. Nothing ever got too out of hand, but we had a very flirty demeanor towards each other and I think both of us were just waiting for the right situation to present itself. Let’s call her “Sharon.” Sharon was tall with dark brown hair and had a smile like an orthodontist’s daughter. Recently, I had divulged to Sharon that the real reason I had avoided her at a recent party was because I couldn’t continue the cat and mouse games we were regularly playing. I explained that I was starting to catch serious feelings for someone new. I told her that if I spent the night talking to her, we would likely spend the night going in circles and I would end up wondering why nothing more had come of it while also ignoring the new girl. I didn’t want to make the new girl jealous for someone that wasn’t taking me seriously to begin with.
While this was only half true, my goal was to instill a deadline and some urgency. If Sharon saw me as a fleeting commodity she might consider moving us past the flirting stage of our “relationship” before it evaporated altogether. As out Thursday night date rolled around, my phone calls to Sharon went unanswered. The evening was supposed to be a wine night at her house with a few close friends. It appeared that my ploy to get this girl to work harder for me had back fired. It had obviously driven her away. I was a little upset when I later found out that this girl had invited out another guy in my stead.
However, her actions actually worked in my favor. This gentleman she called over to fill my place ended up getting black-out drunk and he quickly went from obnoxious to violent. After just a few glasses of wine the random guy began making an all out ass of himself, it wasn’t long before he had managed to outstay his welcome. Fucking amateurs. The girls asked him to leave but took his keys away so he wouldn’t drink and drive. They told him to call a friend or a cab but  refused to return his keys.
Telling a drunk “no” so many times will only escalate a volatile situation. As he grew more irate, Sharon opened the door and hurled his keys into the dark rainy night and simply told him, “There! Now go home.”
He stumbled outside as the door slammed behind him. I’m sure the frustration was building the longer he looked for the lost keys in the dark, the rain probably didn’t help. After a few minutes the keys hadn’t turned up and my substitute suitor was cold, wet, and still very drunk. So he did the next most logical thing. He picked up a bright orange plastic snow shovel that was sitting outside Sharon’s town house and began beating the door with it. The girls promptly called the police.
After a few minor dings and some paint had been scratched off the door frame, the police arrived and arrested the guy. She should have called me instead. Had it been me, I probably would have just peed on her door.
It hadn’t occurred to me then but this was the beginning of the end of my “pedistalling of women.”  There was a long time where I considered women innately good and held their entire existence much less morals and principles above my own. The fact remained that I hadn’t had the experience or maturity to understand that women were just people governed by the same laws of the universe as me. And what was more was that most of them lacked the ability to see their actions objectively and contemplate the effects their choices had on others… just like me.
 I had no problem going on dates and flirting with a handful of women within a short time frames but for some reason I hadn’t worked out that women were doing the same thing and in many cases had a far larger stack of admirers that they too rotated. However, women often used as many as three to five guys just for emotional venting and compliment sponging; seldom with minimal if any intentions of ever going beyond allowing the guys to stroke their egos. This hadn’t occurred to be in those early years so as you might imagine my actions were different. I could write more to this but I digress.
Friday had been slotted as a special occasion to hit the bar with a girl who I had some previous experience with. Let’s call her Maureen. Maureen looked like a classic blonde bombshell, short/petite figure with large boobs, nice butt, and a very attractive face. She and I had met during St. Patrick’s Day after I had been drinking for over 10 hours and I somehow I had managed to put her number in my phone. After a few unsuccessful dates, (unsuccessful meaning she would stand me up or stay only a moment then leave). I had all but given up on this girl. Against my better judgment, I set a time and place. I knew there wasn’t a whole lot riding on her showing up considering her poor track record but I opted to see if I could strengthen our weak past by putting in some genuine effort that night. By 11:00, she hadn’t returned my calls or texts and my self esteem was at an all-time low. I opted to go drinking with some buddies that night but the damage had been done.
Saturday was the day I had been waiting for all week, it was my date with a sweet girl (of the genuine type and a rare quality these days) I had only known her for a few weeks. She was a dance major and had a body unlike anything I’d ever seen. Let’s call her “Caity.” Caity had been a gymnast for most of her life as well as a dancer. She had an adorable face with light porcelain skin, blue eyes, and long auburn hair. Her body was flawless. I found out relatively early on that she could place both legs behind her head with the slightest of ease; girlfriend material. Although our conversations never ranged much outside of dance, I still found myself infatuated with this girl because of her relative positive outlook on life and her endearing nature.
It was 5:00 PM on Saturday and I was killing time until I had to get ready by sitting in front of my computer surfing the free listings on craigslist.org. My phone rang, it was Caity.
“Hello?! “I said in my best TV game-show announcer voice, “Are you excited for an unforgettable evening of fun and delight?”
“Hey…” she said in a monotone, sounding glum.
I already knew what was coming next.
“I’m really sorry.” Caity said plainly, “But I can’t make it tonight, I’m exhausted from a performance and I’ve been busy all week with rehearsals, I just don’t have it in me to come out tonight.”
I told her it was fine and hung up. I had been stood up three times in three days; my self esteem had just taken a kick to the nuts. Was there something wrong with me? Am I that bad looking or was my game just this awful? After a few minutes of sulking I sat up, I refused to let myself get down about things that were outside of my control. Although I was disappointed, I would not be accepting failure as an option. Failure is for losers.
Still looking at the craigslist home page on my computer screen I thought to myself, “Now is as good’ a-time as any!” I clicked on the “Women Seeking Men” section of Craigslist. I had glanced at these ads a few times in the past but never gave them any serious thought. I was a reasonably attractive guy and I look great on paper. I’ve got a job, car, I’m finishing up school in a year.  I clicked on a few ads until I came across an ad posted by a 22 year old girl looking for a guy who could hold a simple conversation.
I replied to a total of two ads before getting in the shower and by the time I was back in front of my computer, one of them had responded.
She attached a picture and wrote a brief summary of herself. I was a relatively intrigued; she looked like she had potential. Her name was Janice, judging from the picture she appeared to be a slim Spanish girl with long dark hair and a pretty face. We spoke on instant messenger for about half an hour and agreed to meet up later that night at a little billiards bar in Fairfax. I arrived before she did and greeted her at the bar when we came in. She had a cute face with sparkly dark eyes. She was half Spanish and her large butt and chest made that quite clear if there was any question. However her teeth were a little jacked up, which explained why she did closed mouth smiles in all the pictures she sent me. She was almost my height and it appeared that she had put on about 15 to 20 lbs since her pictures were taken but beggars can’t be choosers. She wasn’t the hottest thing I’d ever seen but I’d absolutely take it over sulking alone at home by myself.
We grabbed a seat and began talking about our lives over a few cocktails. She had a sharp wit and an interesting background so the conversation never went dry. We got on the topic of physical fitness and she admitted that she hadn’t been to a gym in almost five years. That wasn’t going to earn her any points in my book but it did explain the weight that she had put on from whenever the pictures were taken. She then explained that she was an ex drug attic, but now had a “good job” (office admin). She boasted about signing up for summer classes to obtain an associate’s degree and was proud to be getting her life “back on track.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about sitting around shooting the shit with an ex drug addict who clearly had some baggage. But I overcame my aversions about her past and the evening progressed into flirtation well beyond last call. I walked her to her car, got a kiss with some tongue, and told her I would call her.
She had saved me from wallowing in defeat over my complete wreck of a weekend. For that, I was grateful.
On Monday, my buddy offered me some free tickets on the spot to a show that evening at a local hardcore rock club called “Jaxx.” Think dirty floors, heavy metal, black leather, crazy looking people with long hair, and lots of weirdness. This was about as far as I could get from my scene, my genre of music, or my idea of good night out- so of course I accepted the free tickets. One might think that this would be a terrible idea for a date, but what’s better than taking someone out of their comfort zone shoving them into the a new situation with a charming guy like me by their side?
Janice agreed to go and asked me if I wanted to meet at her place to pre-game. I agreed and turned up an hour before the show was set to start. Once inside her front door she awkwardly rushed me down to her room in the basement without much of an explanation of why I had to quickly and quietly sneak back into her lair. We sat on her bed and drank some rum and coke’s while watching old episodes of some shitty lifetime show she liked a lot on DVD. We chatted about all sorts of things until it was time us to hit the venue. Just as before she pushed me through the house quickly and quietly shut the front door behind us.
When we pulled up to the plain looking venue it appeared as though we had arrived early. The deep ringing of drums could be heard from the outside as we left the car in the barely filled parking lot and headed towards the heavy glass doors to experience the unknown. After we walked through three different sets of narrow doors and walked past dimly lit walls covered in band stickers and graffiti we found the girl taking tickets. A punk rocker chick gave us a funny look as she stamped our hands and pointed towards a door behind her.
The music grew much louder as I pushed through the heavy wooden door. Once inside we took a brief collective look around. The setup was simple, there was a big wooden stage and bar area fifty feet back from that. A sweaty shirtless black guy with dreads was doing his best impression of the bad-guy from the inspector gadget cartoon as a fat guy smashed the drums in no seemingly rhythm or order.  I’m pretty sure the guitar player was stoned as he was seemingly playing a completely different song from the other two band members.
The stale smell of cigarettes, bad perfume, and sweat hung in the air as I turned back to wink at Janice. I took her by the hand and led her over to the bar as we surveyed the crowd. There were only a dozen or so people standing flush against the stage along with another half dozen further back near the bar where it was less noisy. The music was reminiscent of white noise mixed with someone yelling into a walkie-talkie.  Talking was going to be challenging. I gave Janice a shrug as if to say, “I guess this is happening.”
Since jagermeister was promoting that night at this fine establishment we chose to begin pounding red bull vodkas like they were going out of style. If nothing else, the people-watching was exceptional. Janice and I grabbed ourselves a spot near the very back next to the door to watch and judge everyone in attendance. It was confounding that people showed up to this place with the serious intentions of being entertained by the performers. It was obvious that all the members of crowd had unanimously agreed to dress the same. Everyone except for us were wearing black, some form of leather, lots of biker clothing, with lots of strange piercings, bizarre  hardcore rock band tee-shirts, tattoos, etc. It was obvious that Janice and I were the only two there who didn’t know the joys of growing up with a sexually abusive step father. Well at least I didn’t.
It goes without saying as the show continued we stood out in this bar. But the alcohol was helping. I began yelling at the end of songs and pointing at the singer, as if his music had given me something to identify with that had been missing from my soul. I’m not sure if this made us stand out more or less given the venue. Janice soon joined in on my act. Before long we appeared to be rage-oholics who fit right into the hardcore rock scene. Moments later we were kissing, head banging, and grinding in the staging area. We may have been calling a little too much attention to ourselves, but I don’t think either of us gave two shits what anyone else in that place thought.
After the second band finished, Janice wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, “I’m so wet right now.”
I didn’t need any more hints. In less than five minutes we were in the car headed back to her place.
“There’s something I should tell you about my room mates.” Janice said looking over at me with a serious face as we turned onto her street.
“I didn’t want to say anything earlier and freak you out. But, I was engaged to one of my room mates and he lives on the other side of my wall. So we can’t do anything real loud.”
“You’re doing what now?!” I shouted looking over at her hoping she was kidding, “You live with the guy you’re going to marry?!”
“No” she said softly laughing, “I broke it off, and now we just live together.”
Trapped… it’s not like I could hit eject now. I’d put in work here.
We pulled into her driveway and got out. I didn’t expect that there would be a problem but the idea of a jealous fiancé loomed in the back of my mind. All the lights were off as we got into her front door. She got startled as I slipped in behind her. Standing at the bottom of the stairs with the dimmed light of the television reflecting off his bulbous stomach and fat cheeks was her short chubby Asian ex fiancé. It was eerie.
“Fuck it” I thought, I started my manly walk down the stairs, Janice slowly following me, as I led the way towards her room, “What’s up man, the names’ Taylor.”
He acted stunned as I reached out and shook his limp hand which looked to have been raised almost involuntarily. I’ve worked with less. I knew that unless I charged in full speed with confidence shooting out of my eye balls, she might back out and deduce that it was a bad idea having me over. Lack of balls wasn’t going to be the cause of me missing out on any shenanigans with this girl.  Fuck consideration of his feelings, my night was going great. Plus given that I was still in college and my bar tab was $80 (that was a lot of money to spend on drinks on a Monday night) I had to watch my investment carefully.
As we shook hands he tried to mumble his name but I cut him off, “Well, good meeting you.” I turned the corner and walked into her room, she followed right after me. I laid on her bed and kicked off my shoes as she locked the door behind her and bent down in front of her stereo to put on some music. As she leaned further over, I spotted her black thong in plain view jumping out from the top of her jeans. If this wasn’t an obvious attempt to get me to notice her underwear I don’t know what was. I reclined further back into her comforter on her unmade bed. I glanced around the room as she lit a candle and kicked off her shoes. I spotted a wedding dress in dry cleaners plastic hanging in the closet. Weird.
 “Is that what it looks like?” I asked.
She smiled a devilish smile and said, “I’m not taking it back, it was expensive.”
“Of course not,  how ridiculous,” I said amused.
She stepped onto the bed and laid partially on my side and we began to passionately kiss again. Given our little encounter with the ex, it would be important to take my time and slowly work from top to bottom. This in almost all cases is the standard and my personal tried and true form of foreplay. Running my fingers through her hair, caressing the back of her neck, and nibbling a little on Janice’s lower lip as my mouth drifted from hers, She began to moan quietly after deep breaths as I went to work on her neck with soft kisses and light biting later transferring to her right earlobe. I went from rubbing her shoulders with my hands to gently but slowly running my fingers past the areas just under her ribs.
“Bummer. A muffin top, I thought to myself as my hands neared the belt where part of her stomach hung over the tops of her jeans all the way around. Think of slightly exaggerated love handles. As I continued to glaze over her soft skin with my fingertips, I hit some friction that could only be a mild patch of stretch marks or thunder bolts. At that point most men, including myself have a moment of internal conflict.
It may last only an instant or it can last the entire night; but this conflict is an epic mental battle between our inner conscience representing self respect and selfish needs taking the form of the sexual animal inside of me that can make concessions for almost anything in order to get what it wants. Having realized that I was already there, had put in some work, and had a rare opportunity to embarrass her fiancé just mere inches away, listening on the other side of the wall… You better believe I went for it.
I unbuckled her belt and slipped her jeans past her knees. She yanked my pants along with my underwear off and things began to get interesting. We came to the point where she hesitated to take off her bra and her underwear. We would kiss for a while and as my hands drifted she would eventually stop them from taking anything off. This puts me in a weird position, I’m naked and she’s not. I know that when a girl refuses to take something off, it is usually strictly a matter of insecurities. Sometimes it’s better to let those insecurities go unchecked and assume you’re over reacting… but then there’s the other times, where you never know just what you’ll find and maybe they’re insecure for a reason.
To calm things a bit I offered her a massage. Everyone (on earth) needs to learn how to give a good massage.
Eventually I work her shoulders down to her legs and when I progressed my massage into foreplay but she clearly didn’t want me touch anything near her vagina. I found this very strange, I asked her if everything was ok and she said, “Absolutely…. yes.”
After a few choice grabs and teases I would have known if she had penis or something like that. So what was the problem?
I rolled over a bit frustrated and kissed while playing the wondering hands game some more. She eventually gave me a blowjob claiming that she doesn’t ordinarily do that. I acted like I felt honored to be the one guy that she changed all her rules for. After that we managed to straighten up the bed and fall asleep around 5:30 AM. Or at least I did. Janice woke me up every half hour to tell me,
“I’m used to sleeping diagonally, it’s weird not having all my space” and then “Could you sleep on my couch in the basement.”
I neglected her rants until eventually she got up to go sleep on the couches in the basement. She woke me up for the last time at 9:15 AM. I was still in a drunk stupor.
“Why are you awake right now?” I stammered.
“I’m a morning person; I normally get up way earlier. I don’t have work today and slept in a little I guess.” She said with a little more pep than I was ready for at that hour as she wriggled closer into me and hit play on her DVD of the lifetime-channel show we had watched earlier.
“Just give me twenty minutes.” I said as my eyes rolled back into my head.
I attempted to sleep for another half hour as she began texting furiously in-between giggles while watching her show. I was used to the college sleep cycle and being up at 9:30 for no reason seemed unreasonable to me. There was no way I could continue to sleep, she would not allow for it. So we started with regular morning chat until I had remembered her problem with me touching her under the panties.
“Hey,” I said with a partial smirk, “What was the deal with you not taking off that underwear?”
“Does it really matter?” She said with some concern.
“I just want to know,” I said in a curios tone.
“Well it’s kind of embarrassing.” said Janice.
“Come on just tell me.” I prodded further, “I’m sure it’s no big deal. Unless you have something you don’t want me to catch… or a penis?”
“What? No! Ok,” she said, “I had a boyfriend in high school who took advantage of me once when I was passed out in his bed during a party.”
“Well I would never do that.” I said.
“I know, let me finish.” said Janice straightening up and getting more serious, “We were at a party at his house and we fooled around pretty early on in the night and I ended up getting wasted so I passed out in his bed and awoke to him jack-hammering his penis into my vagina.”
“Wow, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said surprised by how forthcoming this girl was about a traumatizing moment in her life.
“That’s not the worst part,” Janice said looking downwards. “When he turned on the lights there was a ton of blood on the bed. So we hopped in a car and went to the ER and the doctors told me he had torn part of the lining of my vagina out. So….. I have what looks like a tail hanging out of my vagina.”
I sat there stunned; I almost laughed a little, “Wait, you have a tail?”
Janice cringed a little, “I didn’t have insurance at the time, so I didn’t get the surgery to repair it. So I kind of still have what looks like part of a tail hanging down from there.”
“So you’re telling me you have a tail?” I said a little unsure if it was ok to laugh. “Can I see it?”
“No!” she shouted pulling the covers over her. “I had the chance to cut off my ex’s dick in his sleep for messing everything up down there but I changed my mind at the last second.”
“Wow.” I said laughing a little not entirely sure if she was kidding, “I’m sure it’s not that bad,”
“It’s just kind of odd to look at and sometimes awkward having sex. It will take some getting used to and I have to be comfortable with the person.” She said staring off into space.
Realizing it was about that time for me to check out of Janice’s place. Her annoying text message ring tone went off again for what seemed like the twentieth time that morning.
“Who keeps texting you?” I asked.
“My ex fiancé has been texting me all morning, you know how I told you his room in on the other side of that wall?” She said pointing at the wall that was right next to my head.
“Well, he heard us fooling around last night and he told me he cried himself to sleep, and then I saw him leave like an emotional wreck earlier this morning. Now he’s sending me messages saying he wants to kill himself.” She laughed as she began texting him back.
She looked up, “Should I tell him to do it and see if he actually goes through with it?”
I already had my jeans on as I slid my left foot into my shoe while laughing nervously. “Well this was quite a trip, I’ll talk to you later,” I said gathering the last of my things and heading for the door. “It’s been fun.”
She walked with me upstairs to her front door. I hugged her goodbye and walked out of her house making sure no one with a knife was hiding in the bushes as I made way to my car. I peeled out glancing in my rear view mirror knowing full well I would never see her or her house again.

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