Date Location: Ethyl’s Alcohol & Food
Location Review: 4.0 Stars – Super funky spot on the Upper East Side. They have go-go dancers, fun decor, and even bingo on Wednesdays
Date Duration: 2 hours
Once again, this was Reed’s last shot. He opened up the last time we went out and I just needed to learn more about who he was as a person before I made a decision on his fate.
I shot him a text and we were on for date #4. Per usual, I got too drunk too fast but I apparently said some things that resonated with him.
We were joking about how I could pass for a high school student and I told a story about how I helped out at my high school’s Challenge Day as an adult. While I was at the school I was asked several times if I was a student (there were only freshmen that day) or if I was a teacher. So basically I could pass for 14 or 28. He didn’t know what Challenge Day was so I walked him through the program and basically it’s for teens to learn that there are other people going through the same things and there’s more to a person than meets the eye.
He was oddly interested in this and I noticed him start to get ever so slightly more personal with me and he recognized that he deflected a lot. But, a few minutes later I allegedly made a joke about STDs.
“You make a lot of jokes about STDs.”
“Really? I don’t think so…?”
“That’s the second one.”
“Well it’s funny you mention that because I have herpes.”
“…I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not fucking with you. I really have herpes.” And then he pinky-promised he wasn’t messing around.
“I got it about a month and a half ago and I wanted you to know in case this goes any further. You’re the first person I’ve told about it.”
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. He never really touched me when we were out, the make outs weren’t heavy, and he never mentioned/propositioned having sex with me. I had so much respect for him to tell me but at the same time I wasn’t sure if I could handle it.
Reed assured me that it was basically a skin condition, 1 in 4 New Yorkers had it, he was on anti-viral medication, and I could ask him anything (also a first since he would deflect so much).
I didn’t really know what to say. On the one hand, I didn’t want to add to the stigma. I know plenty of people who have had an STD and basically they just got antibiotics and were good. However, I had never encountered herpes in the wild and it’s not one with a cure. I liked him but I wasn’t sure if it was enough to potentially contract it myself and have to have the same conversation with future partners.
We called it a night and walked the same direction to the train station. Before I left, we kissed (not intensely) and he left it at, “Well, I’ll let you do your research and if I hear from you then I’ll know you’re still interested.” GOD DAMN IT. Responsibility sucks.
I took the week to think it over and ultimately decided against it. The risk of passing it is very low with the use of condoms and anti-viral medication along with abstaining during break outs. He was cool, I liked him, but I didn’t think I liked him enough to take that risk with him. Since he was only diagnosed a month and a half prior I wasn’t sure if he really knew when his body would break out or “shed” as it’s called.
I then sent the most guilt ridden text I’ve ever written. Really, I felt like shit.
Here this guy was who never told anyone anything coming clean about something so personal and I rejected him. Fuck.
Date Location: Fat Cat Lounge
Location Review: 4.0 Stars – Super cool bar. There’s live jazz/swing music, cheap drinks, and dark lighting
Date Duration: 2 hours
This was Reed’s last shot. We had gone out twice and I never knew if he was fucking with me, telling the truth, or was just deflecting.
He joked that he hustled foosball at Fat Cat so I tested his skills. This may check out. He was oddly good but I kicked his ass in ping pong. (He probably let me win, but I’ll take a win wherever I can get one at this point).
As we played though I got to see a glimmer of his true self. He came from single mom, dad wasn’t in the picture at all, and since he was an only child he went above and beyond for his mom. HE’S A REAL BOY.
Aside from that it was the same bullshit. He did give me a fantastic joke about my office but other than that it was me doing most of the sharing. I may have in fact gotten drunk and over shared (and decided to write this in my alcohol glow). We were talking about how we used to write and he asked if I still did.
“Yeah, here and there.”
“Oh, what do you write?”
“I have a blog” *sips beer nervously*
“What kind of blog?”
“…dating and lifestyle”
“Am I in it?”
FUCK. Then he asked me what it was called and I let him know that we weren’t on that level. So he asked for keywords. I also didn’t give those and instead said it was ridiculously easy to find. I done fucked up.
We were only out for 2 hours before he called it a night. Fuck. But then before we parted ways, (God forbid he walk me the 2 blocks to the train), he kissed me. I won’t lie. I was drunk and he was cute. I wanted a dirty ass make out. I instead got a light make out, no tongue, soft kiss. K.
Location Review: 3.0 Stars – Atmosphere is cool. It’s one of those hand-crafted cocktail spots and has an apothecary theme. So over these millennials and their $18 cocktail bullshit.
3.5 Stars– Has a tiki theme and really clean bathrooms. Music wasn’t bad, just not the most danceable.
5.0 Stars– Pancakes. 2 inches thick. Holy shit, died and went to heaven.
Date Duration: 21 hours
Less than 24 hours after seeing each other we were already back out. He offered to come out to Hoboken but I was still in shock that he made it out to NJ in the first place. I didn’t want to force him to come out to my side of the river again especially since it was super gross out.
He picked a spot in Chinatown and the stage was set. I beat him to the bar so I had to deal with annoying ass millennials taking 4 hours to order drinks that take 80 years to make because the fucking glass had to be frozen. Damn kids and their fancy cocktails. (Really, the place was cool. I am just developing a hatred for this fancy cocktail trend). We had a few drinks but since there was no good place to stand we moved to the tequila bar next door. More my vibe.
We were knocking back beers and he got more flirtatious with me. He said that the whole time we were together the night before he hoped I’d ask him back to my place and he really wanted to kiss me the whole night. He also made his feelings more obvious physically. He stood behind me and had his arm around me while I drank my beer at the bar. Then we kissed. Music was picking up so we made our way to the dance floor.
Just to give you a picture, it was 10/11pm when we hit the floor which in NYC translates to still early. While everyone else in the bar was starting to pick their prospect for the night he had me out on the floor, grinded on me, and we were making out heavily.
Then he posed the question. “Do you want to come back to Brooklyn?” Damn. Okay. This was it. We were going to fuck on the second date. As much PTSD as I had from the last time I was in Brooklyn, this was about to be my redemption. I agreed.
We made out in the Lyft on the way to his apartment and I was blown away by his place. Not only did he have heat and electricity, there was art on the walls, it was reasonably clean, had a patio, and he offered me water. OH MY STARS!
We moved to his room and he threw some music on. Then this motherfucker picked me up and threw me down on the bed. We were having that kind of night. We made out, clothes came off, and he immediately went down on me. I could respect his style.
I moved to reciprocate the efforts and oh my god… Boy had a beer can for a dick. HOW THE FUCK WAS THAT GOING TO FIT? I HADN’T STRETCHED. I put in my best efforts all while wondering how the fuck this was going to work. I had fucked a guy before with, what I considered, a big dick and things were fine but only in porn had I seen a cock that intense and in a matter of minutes I was going to find out what that was like.
It hurt like a bitch. Although his efforts were valiant in the beginning, I’m not sure any amount of prep would have made me ready for that. As time went on things got better but after several minutes I kind of felt like Jim from The Office staring into the camera so I may or may not have started to fake it just to make it stop.
He didn’t stop. I ultimately asked for a break which he was cool with. As we made out afterwards he mentioned that he usually doesn’t finish. Great. My vag is about to be a tunnel. …we fucked 3 more times that night.
Khalil was one who was eager to please. After the second round of fucking, he low key made it his mission to finish me off. He was so fucking slick how he asked too. After having the conversation on not finishing he asked if I ever had and what the guy did to make it happen. I didn’t want to disclose absolutely everything about my sex life on the second date so I mentioned how this guy I used to fuck would me pull me across the bed and give me oral like it was his favorite thing to be doing. This correction was immediately applied.
It was a new experience being with someone who was so into my body. Not only was he very enthusiastic about doing things to me he said, “I could eat you out all day. Do you realize how amazing your pussy is?” No sir. No, I don’t. He also kept saying how fucking amazing my body was (#BodybyMcDonalds), he was so into me, I was so cute, and fun to be around. Honestly these are things that I just had never heard before, at least not in such a direct way. So rationally my first thought was, WTF is wrong with this guy?
We woke up within 5 minutes of each other and as soon as he realized I was conscious he went right for going down on me and we fucked. This time was much better because at this point my organs were replaced by a gaping hole to Narnia. I also may or may not have queefed in his face 5 times. He was cool with it. I was mortified. For the next 3-4 hours after we just laid in bed making out and talking.
During the night he asked me if I’d go to brunch with him in the morning. Super unexpected. Because I’m a cynical asshole I figured I would be kicked out at some point but this guy cuddled all night between fucking. It was time to make moves and Khalil brought up the brunch thing again. He was serious about it? Weird. As we walked over he held my hand and while we were waiting for a table he pulled me in and kissed me on the forehead. A boy being affectionate? Does not compute.
One thing I liked about Khalil was that he could also eat like a champ. We went through 2 orders of hash browns and an order of fries before we even touched these thick ass pancakes. I can get down with a man who feeds me and can also do some damage.
During brunch there was one conversation which I found interesting. The topic of dating apps came up and he asked how long I had been using them. I was honest. I said about 2 years but during that time I did see someone for a bit so it wasn’t a consistent 2 years. I asked him the same and he said a month. Damn, Khalil! One month in and here you are after a night of record fucking with some pancakes? Boy got some moves!
On the way back to his apartment he asked what I was doing the rest of the day. I let him know I had plans later that night but had some time before I needed to go. So we hit the shower and hung out in his room for a bit before heading out. While we were laying on the bed he asked when he could see me next and said that even though his “life is pretty dope”, he would be thinking of me until we met up again. Okaaaaay. It was time to leave and he rode the train with me until my stop, we kissed, and he texted me the next day which was a new thing for me.
Upon returning home, I began the classic Laura “I’m interested but I’m not” dance. Typically around date 2, AKA every second date I make it to, I have this inner crisis. Obviously if the person makes it this far I must like him and in theory he likes me. But in the back of my head I always think that if I have any doubts this would be the time to cut it off. So I begin to convince myself that I don’t like him and turn to friends to agree that indeed, he sucks. They never agree, think I’m a psycho, and reassure me that he’s worth it. Now that I have all this confidence that he is indeed a decent guy, I give myself the opportunity to develop feelings.
After our date, the cycle began. I had convinced myself that he was actually the greatest player of all time and there was no way he was actually that into me. Yeah, he came to NJ, brought me chocolate, said I was dope, didn’t know why he was so comfortable around me, and said that he could lay in bed with me all day BUT ANYONE COULD DO THAT, RIGHT? He had only been on apps for a month and this was NYC. He was just going to keep me around until someone better with a stretchier vagina came around.
I had a show and a competition the next week so we didn’t see each other but he texted me on the day of my competition to wish me luck. WHY WAS HE SO NICE?
At the end of the weekend I texted him and asked to hang out again. He said yes and suggested coming to NJ so I started stretching. …he cancelled the morning of. A few days later he asked me what I was doing that night. I had a busy day but I let him know when I’d be done. He flaked again.
Finally, the stars aligned. We both had snow days and my roommate was out. So I started stretching for date #3.
Date Location: Ace Bar
Location Review: 4.0 Stars – Super cool spot and interesting neighborhood. They pour their drinks strong but it does get crowded.
Date Duration: 2 hours
I didn’t hear from Reed for awhile after we saw each other. I wasn’t sure how to take it because on the one hand I hate texting for centuries but on the other we had a fucking great time and that kiss was solid.
He texted me on Friday that week asking what I was up to for the weekend. We set the date and it was on. The bar he picked had a bunch of different arcade games so we went to the back, got our skeeball on, played some Big Buck Hunter, and I got drunk. The more we spoke the more I had no idea if he was fucking with me. He clearly had a comedic mind and could follow the first rule of improv: “Yes, and…”. For those who are unfamiliar, when you’re doing a scene with someone you can never shut down what they’re doing. Instead you go along with it and build off.
He was so good at it I couldn’t figure out what was real and what wasn’t. Did he actually go hunting? Did he really own a gun? Did he really get arrested twice? Did he have tattoos on his back? I had no fucking clue.
He built off of everything we talked about except for one thing. We were talking about bucket list items and he said that one of his items was to write a book. I asked if there was anything in particular he wanted to write or did he just want to have a book under his belt. He said he wanted to write one on his experiences. I asked if there were any in particular. He brushed it off and kept these “experiences” super vague.
He had plans for later that night and we walked until I had to turn off for my train. We kissed on the sidewalk and it was just as good as the first. Soft, minty, non-agressive, super tall.
We had another weird conversation.
I didn’t hear from him for a week until this fucking sass happened.
I really should have ignored it. I wanted to. But I could not for the life of me figure out this guy. So I played it chill and let him know that I had meant to respond to his last text but got caught up in stuff and would be around the next week. He began texting me like clockwork. One on a snow day, one on the Friday when I left, one when I got back, one to ask me out. Fucker was motivated and I was a masochist.
Well, it IS the 42nd Street Red Lobster.