On Saturday night, I left
On Saturday night, I left the Marquee with a woman who decided not to go home with me because what she really wanted was "a boyfriend."
The curse of late November is in full effect.
I'd met her in passing last week. Friend of a friend. On Saturday night I ran into her again and we started talking and flirting pretty heavily. She had lovely eyes, full of mischief, and a devilish smile.
Before long, we were sitting and making out. I asked her if she wanted to leave with me and she said yes.
(An aside: ladies, if you're making out with a guy in a bar and he asks you if you want to leave with him, that means he expects that the two of you will be going home together. Don't be surprised if the guy gets a little annoyed if you get outside and announce that you want to get a cab home by yourself. Of course a woman has a right to change her mind whenever she feels like it; but c'mon, if you want a boyfriend, don't leave the bar with a confessed dogaholic.
The guy is annoyed because he does not relish the thought of going home alone at that point. Nor is he thrilled at the prospect of walking back into the bar alone, with his tail between his legs, five minutes after his friends watched him leave with a total sex bomb.)
Out there on the street we got to talking about different things, monogamy and boyfriends and so on. And soon we were making out again.
I said, "So let me get this straight, you want a boyfriend, but in the meantime you'll settle for making out with a stranger in a doorway on Gottingen Street and putting your hand down his pants and feeling his cock?"
Her jaw dropped open in shock and she turned around to storm away and immediately fell flat on her face on the sidewalk. She was completely embarrassed as I helped her up. "Oh my god, I've totally blown it," she said.
"Whatever," I said. "It's the winter, people fall down all the time."
So we wound up going back into the bar together and having a drink and talking for almost another hour. It seemed like in her mind there were only two options: "monogamy" or else "one night stand that is cheap, forgettable, degrading..." (pick your adjective).
I sort of explained my point of view on things and tried to make sense of it for her. It did take some explaining (another aside: god it's nice when I meet women who have already read this website).
She had tried promiscuity for a while but got bored of it; in a monogamous relationship, the sex just gets better and blah blah blah. Our conversation kept getting interrupted by bouts of smooching. She was a really horny woman.
Over the course of our chat, I watched two hot women that I know leave the bar with gross-looking guys. They avoided eye contact when they walked past my table. I tell you, the November curse has a terrifying grip on the women of my city.
Finally I put on my sweater and coat and got up to leave. It doesn't seem very sexy to sit and try to argue someone into sleeping with you. If you're not compatible, you're not compatible.
"So that's it?" she said. "There's not going to be any kind of conclusion, or wrap-up?"
I said, "No, there isn't." How could there be a conclusion, when she wouldn't even let anything get started?
I gave her a kiss and told her I thought she was cute. We shared a wistful look. Then I turned around and walked out of the bar.