A Tale of Two Dates

 

I debated on whether or not to share this interesting experience from this weekend because I don’t want it being thought of as the definition of my weekend for it certainly was not. It was a blip. But it was a weird enough blip to warrant a tale. This, is that tale . . .

Girl decides to try dating again after a year hiatus. Mysteriously uninformative boy-disguised-as-man persuades girl to go out to dinner. They have a marginally ok time and end it alright, but girl decides that due to potential cultural differences in attitude, etc it’s no bueno and lets him know the next morning after ample thinkage.

Fast forward . . . keep on cruisin, keep on cruisin . . .

After much debate and several other people’s opinions later, including boy’s, girl rethinks original decision under the premise of wanting to make sure she was not being an unnecessarily pre-judgemental wench and decides to go best 2 outta 3. Ha. Ha. Ha. Stupid girl.

Flash to a warm summer day. Girl meets boy, despite awesome, I mean slight, argumentativeness and they head on their way and proceed to have a surprisingly wonderful afternoon complete with munchies and boating. Well done sir. Boy even pays for girl. Not expected, but smart boy. Day comes to a close and girl finally feels comfortable with boy. Big surprise. Doin’ good. Girl goes up (it’s definitely still light out) and after slight inevitable “what are we doing” awkwardness, couch snuggles ensue. Girl thinks “Hmmm ok, this could be ok, I could handle this.” And then that thought is quickly dashed to shreds thanks to boy-turned-jackass. Way to be.

There is no need to go into details, but I will say this . . . While some girls may not make you work for it, I’m not one of them. And while me being from here may make you think it’s easy to get into my pants (or me into yours), you should think twice because what that really means is I will tell you no when I damn well please and by golly I get the right to decide when and furthermore, if, you belong anywhere near my body. And if you don’t like that, tough nuggies. Go kiss a cactus. And if you really don’t like that, I’ve got a knee with your name on it.

My point in all of this? Hope.

I have hopes for each of my readers. For the men, I hope that you have enough sense to realize you attract more bees with honey than vinegar. That you respect a woman enough to wait for her comfort level, whether that’s right away or down the road a bit. That you understand that you are a lucky man if your date ends with a really good hug and a kiss after you paid for her.

For the women, I hope that you show yourself love by listening to your gut, it’s there for a reason. That you are willing to say no if that’s what you need. I hope that you understand and believe that no man ever should make you feel bad for needing time and if he does, there’s the door. And most of all, I hope you know that a man being near your body is a privilege for him, not a right.

Hugs & Love

 

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