A couple of years ago I met this guy and we went out for a drink. It was an unremarkable date (attractive and intelligent but arrogant – the classic NY triple) except for the fact that as I was leaving he grabbed me and gave me a pretty fabulous kiss. We emailed back and forth to try to arrange a second date but kept on stumbling over scheduling and eventually I gave up. I was just really busy with work back then and he was completely inflexible.
About 6-8 months later our paths crossed again and he asked me out again. I said yes and we had another pleasant enough date. I made it clear to him that I was seeking a LTR (eventually) and if he was looking for something casual then we were a mismatch. After dinner there was a considerable amount of PDA out on the street and it was all rather good, but I felt he was pushing things too fast and said so.
Those of you who’ve been reading my blog for a while know I’m no prude. Far from it. I just didn’t think it’d be helpful for us to have sex that night. I wanted to get to know him a little better before things got sexual. Otherwise the sex, if it was good, might’ve taken over the relationship.
For our next date he invited me over to his house for the afternoon. He had one of those fabulous brownstones in Brooklyn with a big, beautiful garden. It was the summer and we were hanging out in the garden.
At some point he took me for a tour of the house and we started to kiss. And, well, I should’ve known that he wasn’t going to be happy with things moving slow. He wasn’t that kind of a guy. And so I left. I figured I knew all I needed to know about him. If he wasn’t mature enough to respect my desire to get to know him a little better (it was our 3rd or 2nd date, depending on whether you counted the one from many months before as who could even remember who said what from back then) before we got naked then he wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted in my life. I thought that was the end of it.
A couple of days later I got an email from him. I wish I saved it. He said that since we weren’t well suited for a relationship (those weren’t his words, damn I wish I saved that email) perhaps I’d like to join him in a threesome. He then went on to describe in some detail what that might be like and to draw my attention to the attachment of the photo of the very attractive woman he was referencing. Now again, for my frequent readers, you know I am not a prude. I didn’t wilt from embarrassment at the thought of a threesome. I did, however, laugh my ass off as I read that email. It was one of the few occasions where I managed to keep myself from replying. There were no appropriate words for what I was thinking. Except, of course, what the fuck?