Ow Papi

20 days later, I sleep with him.

Initial thoughts? None because it put me to sleep - in a good way.

Secondary thoughts? Ow.

I was actually one of those people who thought the bigger, the better, so bring it. Little did I know the trouble that it would get me into. Enrique came over and after a a formality of watching a movie (Up in the Air, which I recommend), I was a only slightly taken aback when I saw him, and furthermore thought it would work out. And after a much needed, great nights sleep, I woke up sore with a dull achy pain.

The term bittersweet was never used better.

I don't want to get any more explicit, because I'd rather keep this blog about my sexual exploits as appropriate as possible (does that even make sense?), but I open this up to the blogsphere and ask, has it ever been so big, it hurt? And if so, did you try it again?

Ay Papi

I went to my new favorite salsa bar a few weeks ago hoping to see “Guitar Hero”, the guitarist of the band playing the week before, who currently had in his possession my lust. A different band was playing, so I thought to make the most of it and met Enrique. He was cute enough and an excellent dancer so I gave him my number. He said he’d give me a call, and without fail, I received a text within 24 hours (for future reference, I would have preferred a phone call, but its fine). We made plans to meet later in the week for a drink.

He had me meet him in the East Village at this darling tapas place. I got there a few minutes early, sat down, and ordered white wine sangria (which is my current drink of choice). He arrived a few minutes later and we proceeded to sit down for some tapas and get to know each other.

I learned that Enrique had come to America 10 years ago from Puerto Rico. Has an MBA in Finance and lives in a quaint apartment in the lower east side. He was married once, no kids, and is very close with his family. I was nearly enamored.

We went salsa dancing shortly thereafter and had a great time. Unfortunately, I had to leave for an early engagement the next day, but we made plans to see each other the following night.

After drowning in a bottle of white wine at a friend’s place, we ventured over to the new favorite salsa bar that coincidentally was a block away. We ended up spending the entire night drinking sangria and dancing with anyone who could spin us around. Enrique showed up a little later and we all continued to have a great time, drinking, dancing until god knows when.

I didn’t take Enrique home with me, though he clearly had intentions to go with me. I’ll admit, there was a part of me that wanted to take him home, but I was inebriated, tired from dancing, and just not in the mood to be wooed.

Fast forward to a few days later when I receive a text from Enrique:

E: I thought we had an ‘understanding’
Me: what do you mean?
E: For us to have each other
Me: Do you mean sleep together?
E: I must have misunderstood, I apologize!!!!
Me: I am not ready
E: Good night.

My plan was simple, to sleep with this guy till I got bored with him and drop him. Apparently, his plan was simple too, to assume I was fast and sleep with me the first chance he got. I guess I shouldn’t be angry that he thought I was fast, as that is usually my plan of action, but seriously, what the hell.

It’s a little presumptuous to assume that a girl will sleep with you at any point of a courting, especially within the week of meeting. (And because I believe in double standards, I don’t believe it’s presumptuous for a girl to assume a guy will sleep with her at any point of courting). There are a number of reasons why he may have assumed I would sleep with him, but I won’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Sleeping with me is a privilege and should be treated as such. There isn’t an “understanding”. There’s a “BM has chosen you”. Needless to say, I will not be seeing Enrique again. I mean, unless I get really horny.

"Sex is Something I Really Don't Understand Too Hot"

"Sex is something I really don't understand too hot. You never know where the hell you are. I keep making up these sex rules for myself, and then I break them right away. Last year I made a rule that I was going to quit horsing around with girls that, deep down, gave me a pain in the ass. I broke it, though, the same week I made it - the same night, as a matter of fact." ~Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye

Depth of Emotion

My best friend, Shari, has bestowed upon her boyfriend a sort of ultimatum to express some “depth of emotion” by the end of summer. I can appreciate that Shari can tell me this because she knows I won’t judge her for doing it, and I won’t because she deserves someone to love her the way she wants and deserves. But in any event, I find the need to comment on this because it’s not my style and thereby needs commenting.

Now if you know me, you know that I follow the “Steven Platek” school of love in which you learn that love is an institution and marriage is an un-evolutionary ploy in which you are inherently denying yourself superior mates. Therefore, I will translate love into “feelings of attachment” or “feelings” for short.

It’s not only difficult but damn near impossible to a. Find someone you are compatible with b. Remain with said person (faithfully) for an extended period of time and then c. Have said person return this feeling (that is contrived in the first place).

I am convinced that Shari’s boyfriend wants to be with her, and while she is attempting to grasp at flyaway feelings with ultimatums and deadlines, I fear that it will inevitably result in a resentment involving both parties. She will resent him for having to force feelings and he will resent her for having been forced.

If all goes well, they’ll express their feelings at the right time in which both are comfortable with. I have faith in her because she deserves it and I have faith in him because he’s a good person. The bottom line is, neither should take life too seriously or too lightly. These two are different from one another, but don’t opposite attract? Having one with the other is what makes a relationship flourish.

Good luck Shari, this one’s for you.