Having been married and going through a divorce you think about the relationship alot, and what went wrong. You mull over everything you liked and disliked about the person and it can turn into a bitch session pretty quickly when more than one of your close girlfriends is involved, its your close friends that actually knew the freakin knob of a man, and wine is being poured freely. Then you move on to the "what I want in a man next" phase. I want a man that is going to listen to me, and one that will have lots of sex with me (believe it or not, many beautiful women had husbands who would not have sex with them, and yeah, its a big problem for the women), hopefully he makes a good living, yadda yadda yadda. Oh and he has got to be hot. Totally.
It was quite a shocker for me to hear from one of my girlfriends, "Sweetie, you are just going to have to suck it up and lower your standards," What???!!! "and you should probably start sleeping around too. It'll distract you from the crapstorm that is your life right now." Well guess what...she had a very good point. Its not going to be perfect, but it will be entertaining and maybe even fun. So I started talking to guys that I wouldnt normally chat up at all. I have to admit, they are thrilled that I am flirting with them and I do love the attention. Oh and things have changed with dating since I got married. Texting is where its at. Especially the younger ones. No more "Rules". That is right out the window. Once you accept it, practially anything can be a panty dropper. Enter crazy shit with boys.
I get a text from a guy I met at an after party for a polo event. Its like 9:30 at night and he is offering for me to come over to his new house and fetching me wine of my choice at the store and peppering me with questions like, region, year, variety as to my wine preferences. He is doing what I like to call "blowing up my phone" and I like this alot. In a previous life, I wouldnt have considered traveling around the beltway, inpromptu like that to some dudes house that is really only mildly attractive. But I send out an emergency text to my fearless leader, and she immediately tells me to go. Ive been in my flannel pajamas, but I put on my skinny jeans, stillettos, and a slutty top and drive off into the night. I even put on a fresh pair of Hanky Pankys.
I leave my luxurious, spacious, beautifully decorated home and drive 30 minutes to a hovel. With a BMW parked in the driveway. Its small, dirty and sort of smells like a boys dirty laundry. There is virtually no furniture except a old crappy couch positioned in front of a huge flat screen tv that is brand new and very exciting to people who get excited about shit like that. But he is effusous with his praise and extremely attentive, lively and has some fascinating stories about his secret life as a personal bodyguard overseas for a high powered executive that pays ridiculous money. It sounds crazy, but whatever. He gives me an amazing massage and encourages me to finish the second bottle of wine. After some really PG groping on the couch, we ascend the small staircase to his room, which is disgusting. I overlook it, because the new me has raised the bar on fun and lowered her standards with boys. Only a bed and clothes cover most of the floor. He has just moved in apparently. He's 26 or 27 I think. What followed was some skin contact and high school-esque making out, that was mildly arousing in the way that when you are watching tv and see a food commercial you think you should go to the kitchen and get something, but then realize you are too comfortable to do anything about it. I realized during the make out session that I cannot tell how "aroused" he is, and that is a bad situation for so many reasons. So I fake an orgasm, which I really dont advocate except in emergency situations. But I wanted to get out of there. It turns out he was short, arrogant, condescending to my friends, had a disgusting house, liked heady verbal banter, is kind of fat, and not really worth hopping into bed with. Its fine to lower your standards, but know when to call it done.
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