February 19, 2012 by Manny Wordsmith
Is it true that nothing good happens after 2 a.m.?
Men, would probably say no. We can easily take a trip to a restaurant after last call if that means we can still use the overtime clock to seal the deal.
We just wait for the right look or phrase. We hint at not being tired or drunk. We won’t outright say were actually just horny, but we’ll tiptoe around the subject, making jokes at how your mouth looks when you chase the straw in your lemon water.
Of course the aggressiveness and tone of the conversations is dependent on the slut factor.
The more we’ve heard or assume that you’re easy, the more forward and aggressive we’ll be. Why pitter-patter around the inevitable right? If you’re a bit classier and hold yourself to a higher regard, then it’s all about innuendoes. But the mistakes come when the innuendoes are only one-sided and only understood, by one side. Let’s take a look at what a guy see’s from a comment, and then what actually happens.
“Do you want to take this food to go?”
That’s it young scattered-haired girl. Your sweaty forehead and expired Dove deodorant tells me your defenses have finally come down. Your annoying hipster quips have lessened and now you’re talking like a regular human being. We’ll climb into your car and you’ll blare you’re favorite Tegan and Sara song, and I’ll put up with it, for the time being. I’ll rub your thigh as you speed and we’ll make out at stop lights, at least the ones you actually stop at. Your apartment door will fling open to show your mono-chromatic decor and a coffee table filled with Nylon magazines and Richard Kern hardcovers.We’ll stumble, ripping off clothes until we make love on said coffee table.
That’s more or less what we think. Probably more less than anything, but you get the picture.
In reality, this is what happens when the connection and understanding isn’t made.
So she said she wanted the food to go, so we left and headed to her apartment a couple of miles away. I would’ve drove myself, but she said I was way too drunk to drive. I don’t even think I saw her drink at the bar now that I think about it. Anyway, she didn’t play any music while we were driving, instead, she had a hands-free conversation with her best guy friend that was checking up on her. He sounded very ungay. Her apartment looked like the Home and Style section at Wal-mart. Everything from those posters of skinny silhouettes speaking French, to the plastic cups with the bubbles in them. We sat down and actually ate the food we bought and then afterwards she set up her Xbox Kinect and turned on Dance Central 2. But this wasn’t until she went to her bedroom and changed out of her black dress and into some baggy Phineas and Furb pajamas and a OSU hoodie. None of my flirtation tactics worked, she just laughed at me. I was probably slurring. Whenever I got close, she would turn and text her “guy friend” and then laugh hysterically at his response. But the highlight of the night was when her sexy roommate came home and sexed up some asian dude, while I had to dance battle this chick to The Commodores’ hit song “Brickhouse”. She won.
There’s a thin line between fantasy and reality. You’d be surprised at how much this happens when one person wants to get down, while the other person just wants to chill…or make a fool of a drunk guy who really thinks he’s gonna get laid.
Make that connection or sleep off that erection in your own car. It’s not worth the humiliation and the swollen hamstrings in the morning. Believe me.