So I had my “date” with Simon. You will notice I’m still calling it a “date” because I’m still not sure what it was. I arrived at his place and immediately stopped being nervous. We sat and finished a bottle of wine together and talked for a long time. I felt pretty comfortable talking with him, although at first this was just due to the fact that I didn’t have to do much talking. Simon likes to talk about Simon. Simon does not like to ask you questions about yourself. I can understand how that might happen on a first date because maybe he was nervous and that’s just how he handles it. I’ve definitely done that before. I have a coworker that knows my entire life story because on my second day at the company, we ended up in a car together for five hours and I was worried we wouldn’t have anything to talk about. So I was trying not to be quick to judge him as a narcissistic asshole, but after over an hour of The Simon Show, I was getting annoyed and started glancing at the clock and planning my excuses to go home. Maybe he noticed because then the conversation became a little more two-sided and a lot more pleasant and eventually we ended up cuddled up together. Really sweet.
He was all heart-on-sleeve and said a few things that really surprised me to hear so soon after meeting someone. He said, “I’ll be making lots of goat cheese salads for dinner now since it’s the only thing I know I can cook for you that’s gluten free” (mild surprise) and “Ibis, you are funny and kind and smart and usually I find conversations with girls really one dimensional but I really enjoy talking with you and I really like you” (complete shock). I wonder if this is a culture thing. People keep telling me that northern Europeans communicate more directly but I hadn’t really experienced it until now. I was flabbergasted. Yes, enough to actually warrant using the word flabbergasted. Before this, my experience has been that just admitting to someone you’ve started dating that you actually like them is a small milestone. And it can take a few dates for that to come up. But it just rolled right off his tongue like it was no big deal. I wasn’t sure how to respond but I said thank you and that I was really glad he thought so because I liked him too.
So we kept talking. And kissing. And talking, then kissing and then it was getting quite late. I kept saying I should go home soon, but we just kept talking and kissing and eventually he was like, why don’t you just spend the night here. Actually as I type that out I realize I should stop being confused about what it was. BOOTY CALL. Obviously. But then why the hours of talking? Why the wine? Why the Spanish ham cut up on a little plate? Why the string of compliments and promise of goat cheese salads for dinner? Was that all just an elaborate ruse to get me into bed? That doesn’t seem to align with the whole directness thing. Never mind, I’m still confused. I should have just gone home but the way he asked me was so sweet, I got sucked in. He said it had been so long since he’d spooned with someone that he really wished I would stay. I melted. So I borrowed his toothbrush, we went to bed and then stayed up for several more hours talking and not having sex. He seemed to be thinking along those lines, but I had misgivings. So I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea to have sex so quickly after meeting each other and he said, ok no problem and that of course he didn’t want me to be uncomfortable. We eventually fell asleep sometime after 6am and I woke up and finally went home around 11am.
And I haven’t heard from him since.
Well, I’m exaggerating a little. He sent me a funny video he had told me about, he messaged me briefly a few days later but quickly went offline, I invited him to meet me out at a party on Thursday night and by the time he replied to me to decline, several hours later, I was already on my way home. But now this weekend has come and gone, and no contact. No mention of a second “date.” No invitation to join him at a random party. Not a peep. Where is the line between jumping to conclusions and clinging to false hope? If you ask me, it was sometime Saturday morning. Because if he liked me so much, why wouldn’t he have tried to see me again this weekend?
So at what point between Spanish ham and Saturday morning did he change his mind about making me a goat cheese salad sometime? An obvious theory is: he wanted a quick lay, I did not provide one, he’d rather find someone more accommodating.
I have friends who often sleep with a guy on a first date. They are confident ladies, very comfortable with their sexuality and when they want to sleep with someone, they just do it. I am also a confident lady. I don’t believe there is a set of rules for when you should sleep with someone and I definitely don’t believe that sleeping with someone on a first date or having a one-night stand is slutty, shameful behaviour. Girl, you get yours! As long as it’s safe and consensual, of course. However, as I wrote in my last post, I don’t usually jump right into sexual relations. I’m going to skip the self-analysis about why this might be. Instead I hope that if I re-hash the reasons I didn’t give it up with Simon, I will be able to give up caring about why I’m not hearing from him.
First of all, he’s way too close to my social circle in this town. So far the vast majority of appointments on my social calendar have been with the mutual friends that introduced me to him. If I slept with him and it didn’t go anywhere, I would hate running into him all the time when I’m trying to hang out with these friends. This is a stupid reason because I will still hate running into him now, but at least I won’t have to worry if he’s picturing me naked on these occasions. Ha. Another reason: this is a very small town comprised largely of students and it’s more like a game of Two Degrees of Separation than Six. People talk. Even if I don’t believe in slut-shaming, you can bet your ass someone else does. I have mixed feelings about whether it’s ok to factor this into the decision to sleep with someone on a first date or not. I think there’s a fine line to walk between living according to everyone else’s expectations and being mindful of your reputation. But truthfully, this one wasn’t really that important either. The main reason is that I wasn’t into it. A little part of me acknowledged how long it’s been since I hooked up with someone and urged me to go for it just to break the dry spell. But the momentum that takes you from kissing and touching to getting turned on and wanting your clothes off, his clothes off, his hands, your hands, your mouth, his mouth, oh my god oh my god… It just never got going.
If I’d gone for it anyways, it would have been toothbrush sex. First I brush the fronts of my teeth, left to centre, right to centre. Then the backs, bottom row, left to right, top row, right to left. Tops of teeth, top of tongue, spit, rinse, spit, floss.
So I guess in conclusion, even though I borrowed his toothbrush that night, I’m glad we didn’t brush our teeth. Now here’s hoping I will put it to bed.
Good night!
Ibis and Spoonbill 