PROFILE
Denny1968 Active within 2 days
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A word on booty calls. There is nothing wrong with booty calls. Casual sex for the sake of casual sex has its time and place. In fact, I am all for it if done safely and sanely and, preferably, somewhat soberly. The problem with booty calls is that from a woman’s perspective, it is frequently difficult to limit the sex to its impersonal nature. I don’t know if this is because society dictates that women are not allowed to have booty calls or if we as women begin to project some deeper emotion than is warranted by the detached nature of the dirty deed.
But I decided to find myself a booty call man. Call it comfort food. I deserve it, I told myself. Leah’s anxiety had become so bad that I couldn’t even leave her in the nursery while I worked out at the gym; they’d come and find me because she was hyperventilating. On the other hand, when we would pray together at night before bed, she’d say, “Dear Jesus, please send me a new Daddy so I won’t be scared anymore.” I’d stand in the doorway of her room so she wouldn’t see me crying. I wanted to produce one. If only it were that easy.
But I found myself wanting something totally different. I wanted someone I could have sex with for a couple of hours and never see again. I found a guy whose picture looked really good, but his narrative revealed that he was none too intelligent. He met very few of my rules, and we had almost nothing in common (I mean, camping, woodcarving, labor/construction?). He was perfect! I shipped Leah off to the babysitter’s house—and I was ready for action.
My first major mistake in this booty call catastrophe was that I had him come to my house. This goes against every rule of safe Internet dating that I now know and that is available for anyone who has a computer. Those guidelines simply did not exist then. Actually, now that I think about it, it doesn’t even make good common sense so I must have really wanted to get laid.
As I was waiting for him to arrive, I was trying to concentrate on the book I was reading while at the same time maintaining a seductive pose lying on the couch (think Cleopatra). Finally, I could see car lights approaching the back gate of my townhouse and I glanced up to see a camper trailer parking in the free visitor space. Now this was an interesting development. I didn’t really anticipate the hot booty call guy would be driving a camper trailer, but what was I to do now?
He parked and knocked at the back door and I let him in. We wasted little time on small talk and informalities, but got right down to business. I guess when you email someone to come over to your house at 9:00 on a Friday night they know what you are interested in. The casual sex was, well, casual. It was quick and expedient and less than satisfying. Kind of like those Slimfast shakes you’re supposed to drink to replace meals.
Then either society or my sensitive woman side kicked in and I wanted it to be more than it was. “Can’t you stay the night,” I said and I wasn’t even sure if I could believe the words were coming out of my own mouth. Did I remember this guy drove a camper trailer which he very likely lived in?
He looked at me steadily as he pulled on his Levi’s. “I don’t think so. I have to get back to the campground or I’ll lose my spot.”
I knew it! What the hell was I thinking? My head had no control over my mouth at this point. “Well can we see each other again?” and even I could hear a bit of a plaintive whine creeping into my voice.
“I thought this was just sex,” he said and now he looked away as he buttoned his shirt.
Yeah me too buddy but apparently my mouth didn’t get the message. “Yeah OK,” I said. It sounded flat, however, and he looked at me with the slightest tinge of sympathy before giving me a quick hug.
As he drove away, I silently prayed to the gods of dating that he would forget where I lived and never, ever tell anyone what had transpired here tonight.
copyright © 2010 Tiia Jones
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