Welcome to My Spinsterhood

So, it's Friday night. I went out to see "Date Night", the romantic comedy starring Tina Fey and Steve Carrell with another single lady. Then we ate sushi at Haru. As I was on my way home--before 9:30--I ran into the local deli to buy overpriced chocolate and came home to sit in front of the computer and blog about how utterly spinsterish I am and eat chocolate. The only thing I can think of that would complete this picture would be cosmopolitans.

I was tempted to try and booty call the guy I was most recently boning, but I don't think I'd get a warm response. It's also Friday night and i'm not really sure I'm willing to put my desperation out for his examination. Not that I'm actually desperate, but it'd definitely come off like that. I decided masturbation is definitely the better option.

His name is Joe and he's a waiter at the restaurant across the street from my apartment. I met Joe by going out to brunch at the restaurant. Almost no one reads this blog, so I could probably say which restaurant it is, but I won't. This is actually a shame since they have one of the best brunches I've encountered in my many years of NYC brunching.

Here's how it happened: I had had one of my various birthday parties about a month ago. The night before the party I had gone on a date with a guy that I had met over the internet. Well, that's another story, but suffice it to say, it did not go well. The night of my birthday party, I declared to all of my friends that I was never going on a date again. I had a new three year plan which consisted of no dating and then getting knocked up at some point within that outlined timeframe. Everyone pretty much laughed at this plan since I do seem to meet a fair number of guys (sadly, I'm interested in almost none of them romantically).

The party was on Friday night. Saturday night I went out with Jane to see a friend of her's play music at a venue on the Upper West Side. It was a totally random gathering of people and at least two guys tried to talk to me, but I wasn't having it.

Sunday, my friend who was visiting from Chicago and I went out to brunch at the restaurant. We were there, eating, drinking our bloody marys, enjoying the atmosphere and our time together. She excused herself to the bathroom and I started eavesdropping on the conversation next to me. Joe and some regulars were chatting about something (maybe baseball) and of course, I started chiming in. Joe turned to me and struck up a conversation. I'm not much for philosophical debates, but somehow we started talking about something Jane had said to me the day before. She thinks that 50% of what people say is out of desire for wanting things to be true, rather than saying what actually is true. I find this appalling and refuse to believe this. Especially because I don't fuck around with people's feelings and I am severely committed to being truthful. Anyway, as we're talking my friend comes back. Joe introduces himself and asks my name. He totes ignores my friend.

Before he goes back to his duties he tells me that he doesn't want me to leave until his shift is over. I giggle. But soon, it is time to go. We have a date with Tim Burton (that didn't really pan out. To be honest, I don't even remember what we ended up doing), and before we left I went to the bathroom. On my way back to the bar, where we'd eaten, Joe handed me a slip of paper with his number on it and said that he really hoped I'd call him.

He's cute. So I texted him when I walked out of the restaurant and said that it was nice to have met him and here was my number. Long story short, we made plans for the next night.

He took me to Weatherup for drinks. Well, it turns out that he knows someone who works there and we ended getting a shit ton of free drinks. I got plastered. We talked about food, music, literature-basically hitting all the high points of my interests. It turns out we had gone to similar colleges. Here's the deal: he's four years younger than I am. That kind of freaked me out. But, I ended up drinking enough that it stopped bothering me.

He suggested we go back to my house. I was/am fairly damaged (pronounced da-MAAAAAAH-ged) by some douchebag in December. Even though this was happening in March, I wasn't really feeling Joe. I kind of hesitated. In the end I agreed that we should come back to my place. Well, this guy is (but of course) an aspiring singer-songwriter. Music was coming up a lot in the conversation. I was playing some soul music from the '60s that I'd been getting into at the time. He suggested that we slow dance. I knew where this was going, but I sort of felt that at this point (even though I was kind of damaged (da-MAAAAAAH-ged) by the dude from December) that the hook-up was already pre-ordained.

Wow. I'm glad I went with it, because this dude knows how to eat pussy--unlike this douche. I am really not sure what his technique was, but I have never come so hard in my life with another person. Twice.

After the second time, he asked me if I was ok, because I can only imagine that I was lying there with my eyes half-closed and panting, perhaps looking like I'd just suffered a coronary. I said that I was fine, but that I couldn't talk for a few minutes.

I told him that he made me come harder than anyone else ever had. He said that if we fucked that he was willing to bet that he could do it twice as hard. Well, I'm up for a challenge, and I asked what the terms of the bet were. He said dinner, and I agreed. Then it was my turn to see what he was packing. Holy Shit. I looked down and saw a healthy 8 inches staring back at me. Christmas morning for this Jewish girl.

I could go into details about our fucking, but there's no point. It was epic. We fucked until the wee hours of the morning with me screaming. We woke up two hours later and fucked again. He lost the bet, by the way.

The next day, a friend texted me about being woken up by an earthquake in LA. I wrote back something about how there had been an earthquake in my room too, and that I was hoping no one had gotten woken up by that. Honestly, in the texting exchange it sounded a lot more suave.

Joe and I had one more encounter. We kept texting for the next week or so, but it never seemed to work out for us to get together. Looking back on it, I believe I was the one who was being so evasive. He's sweet, smart, cute, and obviously a great lay, but I didn't really see a long term future.

Well, it finally worked out that he was going to come over after work one night. He ended up not coming over until around 12:30am. I was kind of relieved because I thought we were clearly in booty call territory. He asked me out to dinner at a nice restaurant in Prospect Heights to pay his debts. I was going to be out of town, so I said that I wouldn't be able to make it.

We then reprised our roles as horny twenty-somethings. Seriously, we fucked for hours again. He has a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful cock that brings tears of joy to my heart and my nether regions. I know it seems like I'm not holding any punches here, but I'm still trying to decide how graphic to be. Since my readership is so extensive (not), I can't tell how offended the three of you will be. Anyway, let's just say that he and I had great chemistry. After it was over, hours later, we were hanging out naked just talking. I thought things were going swimmingly. I told him that if he wanted to stay over, I'd make him breakfast. To me, this is not a big deal, just a nice thing to do. I am not really sure what transpired, but then he started getting all weird, saying that he had to go home, work early, whatever. I just said "ok". So he peaced out at 3:30am.

I thought it was weird, but I just kind of let it go. The next day I resumed texting him as we had been previously, except now he was being cagey and rather unresponsive. I told him I would let him know when I was back in town. He said ok. I got back into town more than two weeks ago. I have not contacted him, nor has he contacted me.

I will tell you a little about the emotional fall out this has for me. The first time we hooked up, I told my friend DeeDee about him. She and I had dinner together the other night. She started asking about him. I had NO idea who she was talking about. I guess that got me thinking about him again, hence this post and the opening of it with me fighting the temptation to booty text him. Even though I already basically said it, I'll say it again: I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't hit it--HARD--if he got in touch with me again.