Red Flags & World Rockin’
Horrible dating stories. We all have them (here’s another great one by Single Girlie). And, let me apologize to my friend Amy in advance, for re-telling hers here. I know this one was a traumatic event, my dear, don’t read on if you’d rather not re-live it…
Amy met World Rocker at a friend’s party. She was a few months out of a long relationship, as was he. They talked and flirted all night. She assumed he’d ask for her number, he insinuated he wanted it numerous times.
He didn’t. On the curb outside their respective cars, she finally said, “So. Do you want my number or what?” Possibly Red Flag Number One. Take note – we’re keeping track.
He did call that week, and made plans with her for the weekend. They met at his place and had a glass of wine before heading out. Everything seemed fine. So far.
Cut to dinner. Again, everything seems fine and conversation is good. Although… World Rocker sure does like to talk about himself. And. There is this little detail: World Rocker takes his phone out and leaves it on the table next to him.
Really dude? Really? Yep… Red Flag Number Two.
World Rocker also decides that, halfway through dinner, it’s now ok to start reading texts messages. And replying. At dinner. And that would be Number Three.
Since it’s only dinner and the first date, Amy decides to ignore Flags One through Three and give W.R. the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he has something urgent with work he needs to attend to. Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe he’ll knock it the fuck off soon. Right.
But really, what are you supposed to do? Well. You could be me. Once a guy put his phone on the table. I looked at it. Looked at him. Looked back at it. Back at him. “Really. Did you just really put your phone on the table. Are you kidding me right now.” No, those were not questions. Phone no longer on the table.
Anyway. Back to my story.
They go from dinner to drinks. World Rocker’s attention span is further taxed because there is a television in the bar. He can’t stop looking at it.
And then. W.R.’s phone (which is still, yes, present) actually rings. Worse than that? He picks it up. And talks to his buddy for five minutes.
As Red Flag Number Four (we should make this a drinking game) is so very red and so very gigantic, Amy decides at this point, World Rocker is Game Over. Done and done.
However. World Rocker is still super cute. “Meh,” she decides, “just because he’s a douchebag, doesn’t mean we can’t make out a lil. He’s already wasted an entire evening I’ll never get back – might as well get something out of it” (that’s right gentlemen, we can think you’re an ass and still want a relationship with your penis).
So. They go back to his place. Have a glass of wine. After the first glass, he gets up and goes to the door. Turning to Amy with a look on his face that suggests he’s attempting to channel Austin Powers and a raised eyebrow, he locks the door and says, “Does this make you uncomfortable?”
No, Creepy. It doesn’t. The door locks from the inside. Doesn’t make you less bizarre, though, thanks for asking. And… can I have a Red Flag Number Five??
Amy figures… dude, let’s just make out, ok?
Yeah… sorry, Amy. Naturally, W.R. is a terrible kisser.
At this point, sure, you’d assume it’s maybe time to give up and call it a night. But… for some reason, Amy decides to stick this one out … just… a little… longer… She’s just not one to give up easily.
So…the making out didn’t help. And yet he’s so pretty. Maybe just sit on his face.
Making out moves to bedroom. Clothes start to come off. And, unfortunately (yes, unfortunately), World Rocker heads for Amy’s nether regions.
Hmm. I’m sorry – but writing about this is not nearly the same as Amy’s visual rendition. The best I can do is the following: He might have been attempting to frantically scrub a pan (although not quite as painful as that sounds). Not really sure. He also apparently heard somewhere that a woman’s erogenous zone is from mid-thigh to belly button. I don’t mean this in a good way. I mean this in a… let’s frantically scrub a pan from your mid-thigh to your belly button in the hopes that somewhere in there I hit your clitoris.
When that didn’t seem to work (shocking), World Rocker decided to go… all in.
One minute they were making out, the next, he had disappeared – having dived head-first, suddenly and without warning, into said nether regions. Godspeed, good sir!
Or not. That was, shall we say, a sobering experience.
Did I say sobering? I meant slobbering.
At this point, Amy finally gives up. She tried, oh how she tried, to squeeze something worthwhile from this wasted evening and, now it’s quite clear that she’s failed. You can only do so much. Even with someone so good looking. Tragic, really.
Being as exhausted as she is by this time, she just wants some sleep.
World Rocker is having none of that.
“But… baby, baby… all I want to do is… rock your world.”
Yep. Not even kidding.
“Baby… just let me… I just wanna rock your world…”
Yes. It was repeated. Multiple times. As if that would somehow help out the argument. Just let him rock your world already.
And, of course by this time, WR’s clothes have come off. All of them. And it is quite clear to Amy that that is not rocking any one’s world.
Finally, World Rocker gives up and lets Amy sleep for a couple hours. Or try to. She eventually even gives up on that and decides to leave.
Douchebag doesn’t even bother to get up and see her out. Shocking.
Amy did not call World Rocker for a repeat performance of all the world rockin’. And she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t hear from him.
Well. That is, for about three weeks. She only picked up the phone because she didn’t recognize the number. “Hey! It’s been awhile! Want to grab a drink or something?”
Really, dude. Really. Wow.
Two points to be made from this lil tale (you know I gotta do that, right? There are always lessons to be learned…).
One: Just want to reiterate my point that encunters (yes that is a word I invented… or maybe just typed once when alcohol prohibited me from reaching the “o” key) are not Contests. They can just be Awesome, alright? Even though, in this case? Whole lotta Not Awesome, not a lot of Awesome. Kind of across the board.
And. Even though it wasn’t warranted at all, there’s still a power thing going on here. A “hey you’re the slutty girl and I’m the Awesome Dude that bagged you.” Even if the real story is “hey, you’re that douche bag guy and I’m the Awesome Chick who just wanted to get some ass – and you even failed at that.”
I fucking hate that shit and I think it’s fucking stupid. How come the dude always gets to feel like he has the upper hand? No matter what happens? That’s bullshit, man. You weren’t Awesome, dickwad (yeah bringin’ it back). Nothing you did got Amy into your bed. You have nothing to feel cocky about (….seriously…). And no, you don’t get to say “hey I was so Awesome I acted like a dick the entire night and she still went home with me. Awwwww yeah.”
Excuse me. Let me break this down for you. All you did was put up reasons for Amy not to go home with you, and she did anyway because she thought maybe you’d at least be good in bed (unfortunately made the classic mistake to equate good looks with boning ability – and a normal-sized penis – oh, sorry, low – er – blow), and she could at least get something for her absolutely wasted time.
She had no interest in you other than your dick (…not even gonna say it…). Sorry.
I hate that girls can’t be that way. Guys are assumed to work it like that, but when a girl does…?
Two: Speaking of his skillz, World Rocker had recently ended a two-year relationship. That means, some other poor woman had to deal with him and his pan-scrubbing for two years.
Hello, lady! Could you not have taught this man anything?? Mild suggestions, even? Avoid one faked orgasm?
How did this girl do it? How do you deal with such terrible sex for so long? I am sorry, but I have to place a good healthy chunk of the blame with her. Although maybe he didn’t take direction well (that really wouldn’t be a stretch) but my guess? She just laid there.
Look. Sex is great fun, but it can also be pretty intimidating. The only way to get better at it and learn to truly please your partner is through a lil feedback and dialogue. FOR THE LOVE.
SO, the lessons in all of this?
- Pay attention to red flags – they mean something.
- Speak up in the bedroom – for your sake and for theirs. Jeesus H, how are they ever going to learn if you just lie there until it’s time to fake an orgasm?
- Never tell someone “I will rock your world.” Even in jest.