Since March, I’ve been conquering men in bars, both locally and internationally. While it was a fruitful summer with a multitude of good stories to tell for years to come, I had promised myself I would slow it down by the time fall and school rolled around.
And then I met someone (see Disasters in Dating). Someone I didn’t sleep with at first. Someone I like to actually hang out with because he doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out from boredom. Oh and he’s cute. From henceforth, in all future forays with this boy, he shall be referred to as The Bartender.
I over-analyze everything. I mean everything. So while I was going through my one night stand phase, I analyzed everything in the days following a hook-up. Now that I’m dating someone, I still analyze everything and constantly wonder how I’m faring in the dating world. So far I can’t decide which option comes with more stress.
One Night Stands
One night of sweaty, somewhat intoxicated sex. The shared agreement to limiting the amount of knowledge about the other person. Due to that agreement, talking is usually limited to banal topics that you won’t really care about the other person knowing (ie: things that you would find on my Facebook if you creeped hard enough). The walk of shame in the morning. That weird moment where ya’ll can’t decide whether or not to spoon. The feeling of both achievement (if you bang a 10) and disappointment in your self-worth. The look that tells each other it’s on. Free drinks. The questions following the one nighter: Will he call me? Why wasn’t I worth waiting for? Why am I already horny again? What was his last name? Am I bad in bed? The aftermath includes wondering how many lies he told you to get into your pants, wishing you worked out more so those flabby bits weren’t as…well…flabby, and usually regret. Usually.
A tepid toe into the waters of getting to know each other. Dates where the conversation is foreplay, instead of a slap on the ass. Personality becomes a factor. A big one at that. Attraction can only go so far without an actual connection. Sex is steady, but isn’t dull. The feeling of constantly wanting to impress someone with your charm, wit, and appearance. The fear that they will find something out about you and immediately dump yo’ crazy ass. Seeing that look in their eye that lets you know they like you. Free drinks and free meals. The questions that follow: Will he call me? What do they think of me? Am I interesting enough to capture their attention? Am I the only one they are seeing? Do I really need to shave my legs again? The aftermath includes wondering how long you have to lie about not eating carbs, wishing you could stay and cuddle for hours (especially with the recent appearance of fall weather in Texas), and the knowledge that the more time you spend with that person is directly proportional to how much it’s going to hurt when you stop seeing each other.
Which is the lesser of two evils? I’m going to go with the one where spooning is non-optional…for now anyways.