BobGinger: *sigh* I feel like I need to take a step back from the OMG SEX posts on my blog, but I have no idea what to write about. *writer's block*
Mrs. H: hmm.. how about the transition?
BobGinger: the transition? I am not formerly a man, Mrs. H. I know I'm boyish, but come on!
Hee. Mrs. H went on to explain she meant "how to go from 'date' to 'post date.'" How to make your move, I suppose. It can be awkward. Especially if you think a move is there to be made, and the person you're with is either not expecting said move, or - sadly - does not WANT said move. Signals are HARD, okay? [insert penis joke here]
So now I'm thinking... surely there have been times in my life where a move was attempted and thwarted. Maybe it was a poor attempt, maybe it was an unwanted attempt... maybe the word "attempt" is just going to get super weird... but the stories have got to be there.
The first one I thought of was, of course, my first kiss. Nothin' says "ooh baby" like violently pulling your head back like a retreating turtle when someone comes at you for a smooch. Personally, I'd just like to take a moment to pause and appreciate how far I've come since then.
Now... surely I have more recent stories. And... oh, it's time for a list! *throws confetti*
1. Met a guy at The Stranger's Savage Love Bash last year. It was kind of part of the point of being there, and as it turns out, we sort of knew each other already. No one should be surprised that I left with him. We went to another bar, then to his place. For whatever reason, I was feeling chaste that night, so I informed him before we went in that I would not, in fact, be sleeping with him. We were walking everywhere, and he said he would drive me home but had to sober up first. We listened to music, chatted, had a generally lovely time with no untoward gestures or Attempts.
Then he drove me home. I had made no indication during the night that I wanted him to do anything - no touching him while talking, no tucking my feet under his thigh while we sat on the couch, no holding his arm while we walked - all classic signals. And yet, when we arrived at my place in his car, he seemed to think THIS IS THE MOMENT. I started to exit the car. The door was open, my leg was out. He said, "hey" and I turned back to look at him. He grabbed the lapel of my coat and yanked me toward him, where he pressed upon me a rather unwanted, sloppyish smooch. I tried my best not to laugh, said goodnight, and bolted.
For the record, he was a very nice, intelligent guy, and from what I've heard he now has a lovely girlfriend. That just... wasn't his smoothest moment.
2. I worked with this guy. I was new at my job, and thus far, he was the only person outside of my department who'd attempted to communicate and be friendly with me. We discovered we were nearly neighbors, and he rode the bus so I offered to drive him home most days (which he quickly began to take for granted). He was friendly, made me laugh, we had stuff to talk about, so I invited him to come out to the bar and hang out with my friends and me. I'm a very friendly drunk, but as even he admitted later, he could see by being there with everyone, I acted the same with everyone else as I did with him. He was even there one night when I seduced and took home another guy.
He thought he should ask me out. Over IM. I politely declined, saying we were just friends and I liked that. We continued to hang out, email, whatever. I even told him about the crush I had on another dude. Nothing says "I'm not interested in you that way" like saying "I am interested in THIS OTHER PERSON that way."
He came over, I sat nowhere near close to him while we watched some TV and ate pizza, then we went to the bar. When I left, he offered to walk me partway home. On the way, he tried to ask me out again. Baffled, I told him I wasn't interested, this time much more plainly. Then... he barfed.
Yep. Now, I do NOT deal with barf. I just don't. I can't even hear it without feeling sick. So I moved a few feet away, put my fingers in my ears, and sang "LA LA LA LA" until it was all over. Finally, ashamed, he went home. The friendship didn't survive much longer after that.
3. Here's one where I'm the idiot! Only, not entirely, because the guy was an asshole. I wanted to hang out, so I kept inviting him out. Finally one night he said he was in my neighborhood, let's meet at this bar. We did. He was already a little drunk, I caught up, he walked me home. He came in, we talked, drank more, and sat on the couch. We made out, things progressed, we fucked. I hadn't entirely seen it coming, but wasn't averse to the situation. We saw each other a couple of times after that (at work. oh did I mention he was a coworker? yeah) and he made sexy eyes at me and I was happy. Then we talked and I said something like, "um, I wasn't looking for a one night stand, you know." I figured since he'd been making sexy eyes and smiling at me, he was interested in an encore as well.
He asked me to a movie for the next afternoon, and we met there. I wasn't sure what the deal was, so I hung back a little, and he bought both tickets. Oh, I thought to myself, it's a Date! Nice! We went in, and shortly after the movie started, he put his arm around me. I snuggled in. A few times during the film, he'd turn my head toward his and we'd make out for a while. All was lovely.
The movie ended, and he said he had plans with friends later, but did I want to hang out a while before that? Sure. We decided to just go to his place. Now, after all of that, wouldn't you be thinking, Sexy time!? Yes. Yes you would.
We go there, he has no furniture so he sits on the floor. I straddle his lap, and start unbuttoning his shirt playfully. That's when he says we should talk. Of course, I climbed off his lap for this. First he said he wasn't sure about dating someone at work. Then he said he just didn't want to date anyone at all. Please, please, please notice he told me this AFTER OUR DATE. After snuggles and make-outs DURING our date. After inviting me to his home after our snuggles and make-outs during our date.
I called him an asshole, left. At some point down the line, we were both drunk at the company party. He cornered me, had one arm up on the wall over my shoulder, leaning in, lots of face-touching, apologizing, saying he'd taken me to the movie because he felt guilty, saying he didn't want things to be weird between us, saying he wanted to hang out again. Then he went right back to flirting his face off with another girl at the party. Yep. ASS. HOLE. Don't worry, I did NOT sleep with him again. One night after that he texted me asking why I no longer drunk-texted him. I happened to be drunk at the time, so here's how it went:
Jerkwad: why don't you drunk text me anymore?
Me (having deleted his number): Who is this?
Jerkwad: I guess that's my answer.
Me (realizing who it was by the area code): Oh, [Jerkwad]?
Me: You're an ass!
It was strangely satisfying.