When I signed up for Bumble, I assumed my first date would look a little more like a fun and flirty modern Rom Com and less like the “dead-man walking” wander towards my door that I was on. Alas, on- or offline, not every date is a smashing success and not every sexual encounter needs to be hotter than hell (a place that, during some moments of this interaction, I felt I may be in).
So, despite my internal monologue, which hinted I may be better off getting off on my own, my little companion – with the rather large mouth – and I walked 15 minutes back to my place. As his travel stories and, “Bet you’ve never done as much cool stuff as me” banter didn’t really hold my attention, my thoughts had lots of time to wander and wonder the following things:
If he comes home with me, do I have to sleep with him? Do I even want to sleep with him? I wonder what it’s going to be like – body, chemistry and all.
Sometimes, these questions are exciting – electrified by mutual interest and the not-so-subtle encouragement of each other’s nether regions. Not this time though: Mostly I was just teetering between disinterest, social awkwardness and contemplations of the proper decorum associated with digital dating and the expectations of my male counterpart.
Let’s see how the sexting translates into…sex.
Remember how Mr. Frisky talked a big game about his sexual encounters and affinity for experimentation? Well, despite the disappointing dialogue during the date, I still held out hope that my first Bumble encounter would be, at least somewhat, lucrative in the lust department?
Drum roll…it was NAT.
But first, the big reveal!
Stripping down in front of a soon-to-be partner, sometimes, holds all the sexy potential a single gal could hope to salivate over. Sometimes, however, it is more like going through some not-so-momentous motions. The latter was certainly the case with this perogy-shaped prince.
Yes, I said perogy, and not with any intention of being mean. The only reason I am drawing attention to this half-baked human’s appearance is because his profile not only exaggerated his height, but it also asserted he was a frequent gym goer and interested in someone who mimicked an interest in physical fitness. So, when his unveiling revealed a preference for chips, rather than chin-ups, I had to laugh at the illusions Bumble profiles allow us to curate.
But, softness is not a deal breaker in the bedroom. Except, well…you know when – and even then, there’s a blue pill for that! So, my unyielding positivity and hopefulness unbuttoned my outfit in response to his.
Hours of mental endurance culminated in less than 15 minutes of physical entwinement
And thatis all I need to share about that.
As I lay there, unsatisfied, beside my very satisfied acquaintance, I thought, “Now what?” Realizing, to my horror, he had made a long drive in for the visit, I wondered, “Does that mean he is going to ask to sleep over? Please. No. There are only so many travel clichés a girl can handle!”
Luckily, Mr. Perogy did not force me to come up with a fictional narrative about early morning responsibilities or a sudden emergency cat food run that would pull me from the mattress of post-coital awkwardness we currently lay upon.
As he collected his belongings, I figured I would hasten his recognition that this was a one-time occurrence. So, I gave him the universal visual cue of disinterest: I literally slipped into something more comfortable. Instead of opting for my dress clothes or a naughty nighty, I put on track pants and a worn-out t-shirt, sans bra. Hopefully, he would understand that both my wardrobe and I were bidding him a permanent adieu.
And, he actually seemed to. Although he promised to message me when he got home, I knew he wouldn’t – and he didn’t. So, despite his excitement during our short-lived triste, perhaps I wasn’t the only one piecing together a completely one-sided cons and pros list during the previously listed series of events.
Even though Bumble interaction numero uno was a bit of a dud, not long after I didn’t hear from this gentleman, did I find myself reaching for my phone to see what was out there to swipe on. Was I horny? Lonely? Bored? A masochist?
Find out the answer to these questions and so much more during my next Sticky, Sexy, Sad quest.
My only question is: why have sex with the guy if you weren’t feeling him at all, not on the attraction level nor on the “liking him as a person” level?
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to shame anyone for having sex for whatever reason they want. More power to you. And it’s genuinely cool of you to be so vulnerable and to share this. I find your blog really fascinating despite my criticisms, and I enjoy posting comments. But I… don’t understand. As sex-starved as I often find myself, I wouldn’t sleep with a gal if I found myself unable to pay attention to her and if I was not attracted to her.
There is no social etiquette that says you must have sex on a date.
I guess I can sorta understand the ‘politeness’ angle and the ‘not wanting any hassle’ angle. There was that (in)famous short story a few years ago about a woman undergoing a similarly disappointing hook-up for this reason.
One thing I’ll say is that the guy shouldn’t have deceived you with his photos. That is genuinely a dick move.
I think you should’ve tried being present more? It seems like you were in a very detached mood. If you’re present, you can better communicate with the other person. One thing that does play into my advantage as someone who doesn’t get that many matches or dates is that I always give my full attention to the other person. That allows for more polarization (either strong positive feelings or strong negative feelings) rather than this “meh” kinda energy, this ennui, that I get out of this post.
Sorry for the mansplainin’, just giving my 2 cents!