Failed Booty Call Attempt

On Saturday night, as I arrived at the bar downtown, I was in a mood. A horny mood, I guess, for lack of a better term.

At any rate, I WANTED TO HOOK UP.

The day before, I had been exchanging text messages with a former coworker. He is tall and blonde, well built, from a very rural U.S. state and likely of Scandinavian descent. I need a nickname for him.

Nature Boy. He LOVES the outdoors.

Nature Boy and I didn't work in close proximity, but we had gotten into the habit of walking to the nearest public transit station, about a ten-minute walk. We had become good friends during that time -- I even told him about when I hooked up with Alabaster.

I knew that he was new in the city, having moved here from his rural state to be with his girlfriend of a few months, a girl he had met at a summer job in a national park. She was a college senior (this was our first winter after college) at the college right down the street from my apartment.

Oh -- also, we share the same birthday. Which I found special.

I always assumed that he and his girlfriend wouldn't last. Though he wasn't really my type (I'm not into blonde guys, and he had a VERY slight, strange effeminate quality to him -- I assume it's because of where he is from), there was a chemistry that we had.

He quit his job early last spring, about a year ago, and I had only seen him a few times since. We kept in touch via Facebook. He and his girlfriend broke up over the summer. At least I was right about that.

There were two moments of heavy flirtation between us.

The first was his farewell party at the bar the day he quit, about a year ago. He was still with his girlfriend at the time, but she wasn't at the table. After quite a few beers and shots, I whipped out my phone to text (I'm the worst drunk texter) and he grabbed me. We were walking to the next bar.

"Are you doing a booty call?" he said, grabbing the phone out of my hand. "Are you texting Alabaster? You are, aren't you?"

"No!" I shrieked. I dove for the phone and snatched it out of his grip. I then took off like a bat out of hell.

Nature Boy ran after me and threw his arms around me, clamping my arms down. He then stopped trying to grab the phone and just held me from behind. "Sam, if you're doing a booty call, it better be with me," he said into my ear.

I broke away. "You really shouldn't say that."

We then got to another bar and Alabaster wasn't there, and then I drank tequila and that was a very, very bad idea indeed....

The other time, over the summer and after he and his girlfriend had broken up, we were at a bar with a few friends and somehow ended up holding hands. He left shortly after that. Nothing else happened.

So, here we go:

This past Saturday night:


Nature Boy and I texted each other several times. Here are a few excerpts:

Nature Boy: "how have you been samantha?"

Me: "Great! [job news]! how have you been?"

Nature Boy: "Glad to hear that, we should hang out sometime soon"

Me: "I concur. it has been far too long since we did something."

Nature Boy: "Yes, i've missed you"

A few minutes later after more small talk:

Nature Boy: "Going out to the new bar in [neighborhood kind of far from me] that replaced [the bar where I first went with Alabaster the time we first hooked up] - out of your way, but if you're in the area"

Me: "[the bar where I first went with Alabaster the time we first hooked up] closed? headed to [downtown lounge] in [downtown neighborhood] tonight. with [work] people!"

We talked a bit more. After checking with his friend:

Nature Boy: "Looks like i'll see you tonight"

Yes!

I felt like it was going to actually happen with Nature Boy this time. I did my heavy-duty primping: in addition to the full-body shave that I do just in case I end up hooking up with someone, I also used my special moisturizer, wore the good perfume, pulled out all the stops on my makeup and hair.

I had been planning to meet up with several of my female friends from work, and I did. I figured the guys would arrive later. I immediately sucked down one martini and ordered a second.

And the guys arrived: Nature Boy and a mutual former coworker of ours. It was great. No hugs in greeting, but lots of great conversation.

We talked for a long time, the three of us floating around to the other groups. There were about 12 of us altogether, and we kept having conversations with different groups.

At one point, my friend "Nadia" (she's appeared in earlier entries regarding the Hott Waiter) pulled me aside.

"Sam, he has a girlfriend."

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," I replied. "No wonder he was just looking for friendship on Facebook."

"Yeah, he's with Gisele." Gisele? That was an odd couple. Gisele is a dancer who used to work with both of us, but had left quite a long time ago. There's my job for you. One big incestuous family.

I went back to Nature Boy and talked to him in a new light -- he was just a friend. And I had to push the threesome fantasies involving him and his friend out of my head. And the guys then returned to their neighborhood, presumably to hang out with more people from our work, but I refused the invitation.

At any rate, I still had to hook up with someone -- anyone!

The few attractive guys at the lounge had dispersed. I lamented my cause to my friends, who nodded sympathetically and at least attempted to humor me.

Then they decided to leave.

WTF?! The night was YOUNG! I was only two martinis into the evening!

As we waited in the nearby station, I contemplated going to one of my neighborhood bars, then realized that it would make me look like an alcoholic and/or prostitute.

WAIT! THE BUSKER!

I told my friends that I don't know why I hadn't thought of the Busker! I was really attracted to him and didn't see him as relationship material, so he would be perfect.

I texted him: "Hey -- i'm in the mood to hook up tonight. are you?"

A few minutes later: "ha- thats such a hot text. Yes but im in bed kind of sick"

FUCK.

Some texts and a convo later, I learned that he was sick in bed but "recovering." At that point, I just got annoyed. "Are you sick or not?" I asked. "Is this going to happen or not? Just tell me. Okay. I'm guessing it's a no."

"Yeah..." he said sheepishly. I didn't like his tone. Awkward city. "I'm sorry. Sweet dreams. Hehehehehe."

Sweet dreams?

Damn. Well, it's hard having interest in him anymore. I went to bed, defeated.

Little did I know that the next night I would end up fulfilling one of my deepest desires.

Relationship Musings...

It's getting kind of late, and I've been feeling very introspective and very stream-of-consciousness lately. So I decided to jot down a few things I've learned over the years from my various relationships that I think are important for every young woman to know when approaching romantic relationships:

*Nobody wants to date Superman
When you're dating someone who has a problem, whether it be an affinity/addiction to drugs, a mental disorder like Depression, love isn't always enough. And you can never use your love to fix a problem. Sometimes caring isn't enough. You can't always be the hero and rescue someone from themselves and change them in order to fit them to the mold of the relationship. Saving someone is what great friends do, but most guys don't want to feel like they need to be taken care of by their woman.

*When a guy tells you that he has never told anyone that he loves them, and that he believes that he is "incapable of love," RUN.
Run far away. Don't convince yourself that you can be the one who will make him see the light and that one day he will be overcome by his emotions and profess his love for you. Much like dating a serial cheater and believing that you will somehow be the One who will change his philandering ways. By even admitting it, he's doing you a favor and giving you an out. Believe what he says, and end it there. If love is what you're looking for, a guy like this will never be able to give you what you need.

*Sexual attraction and a great friendship doesn't always translate into a solid relationship.
You can be friends and find each other attractive, but at the core, if there's no real compatibility in terms of what you want from a prospective partner, don't try to force something that's not there. Settle for a great friendship, and feel free to sprinkle in a little innocent flirtation here and there, just always make sure to set a boundary that you don't cross.

*Most guys DO want what they can't have.
How many times after you split from a guy do you just wish that one day he'll come to his senses and come back to you, begging for forgiveness and to give it another go? How many times do you attempt the tactic of being cold and distant and even pursuing casual relationships with other guys knowing it will get back to your ex? Realistically though, what do you expect to happen once he's overcome with jealously and starts chasing after you? Will all of the problems you had before suddenly melt away? Will you finally be able to keep him, after he came to see what he had lost?

Probably not. Which brings me to my next point.

*Break-ups happen for a reason.
They call them "break"-ups because the relationship is BROKEN. It's pretty much never worth giving it another go, because aside from a few extreme cases, whatever the roots of the problem that resulted in the initial break-up were, they will still be there. You can love someone with all your heart, but the only way to be fair to yourself and the other person, you need to recognize when a romantic relationship is impossible to maintain.

*Good things come to those who wait.
Every time a relationship ends, you feel utterly lost and hopeless. You feel like you'll never have another chance at love, and that feeling of desperation typically manifests into a desire for what was lost. Even if you got out of an unhealthy relationship, in retrospect, everything is romanticized in your sad and warped little mind, and you obsess over what you did wrong and how to get your Ex back. Let it go. There IS something better out there. And don't be afraid when it takes a little longer to find it. Despite what movies, television and magazines tell you, there is no definitive timeline of finding love. Don't pressure yourself to pursue dead-end relationships just to feel like you've found what everyone tells you you should be looking for. Never feel like you're the only single girl out there because you are not alone. And cherish your singledom and use it as an opportunity to realy get to know You, and what you really want out of life, love, relationships. Figure out what it is you want, what it is you need, and you'll find that when the next guy comes around, you won't have to waste your time and emotion on someone who isn't worth it.

*Never settle..
...for anything less than butterflies.

Ladies, I'm sure you have some other excellent personal philosophies you've cultivated for yourselves and your relationships over the years, so feel free to add your own musings to my list.

Caught Between a Rock and a Dandelion

You would think that my mind would be made up. That there would be no contest between this sluttacious prick and the slightly awkward and bumbling, yet mysteriously charming, albeit goofy, guy. But as soon as Dandy began expressing an interest and we began hanging out a lot, wouldn't you know that Rocky came waltzing back into my life, eager to pick up right where we left off.

Suddenly, he began spouting off all of the pretty things that swayed me in the beginning. Except now he started using words like "girlfriend" and trying to be something he wasn't, making false promises that he thought I wanted to hear. Physically, I don't think he saw Dandy as competition, but he could see that emotionally, Rocky saw that Dandy was prepared to offer me something that he couldn't, and felt threatened by it. And despite his notched up belt, he seemed to be protective of his conquests.

The Rocky versus Dandy battle raged on in my heart and my mind for over a month. Who did I want more? The nice guy who had just sort of snuck up on me by being the support system I'd desired for months, or the one who I wanted but couldn't have, but now suddenly could? On paper it seemed so simple because one treated me well and the other didn't. But the fact was that had it not been for being spurned by Rocky, I probably wouldn't have taken an interest in Dandy. Hence, the predicament I found myself in.

It all came to a head when a large group of us, including Rocky and Dandy, decided to go out to dinner. Rocky sat next to me and spent the entire meal whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful I looked and meanwhile, Dandy was positioned directly across from me and kept joking and smiling and making kissing faces at me, until we both burst out laughing. The alcohol was going down like it was water and by the time the entrees rolled out on our 4 course dining extravaganza, I was hammered. After the conclusion of dinner, while we were waiting on dessert, I stumbled to the bathroom with my galpal and drunkenly lamented the situation I was in. I weighed the options about Rocky versus Dandy and how I needed to choose one of the other.

After talking it out for a while, I decided that Dandy was the right choice to make. He had been nothing but an upstanding, nice, decent guy, and the only reason why Rocky was entertaining the thought of picking things back up with me was because I was suddenly poised to be taken off the market. The simple and most obvious choice really, but matters of the heart are never quite so clear when it pertains to you... or when you've consumed copious amounts of alcohol.

I left the bathroom with a new perspective and a new mission. I turned a deaf ear to everything Rocky was saying to me and once we ate dessert and paid out, our group moved to the nearby dive bar that we loved and frequented often. After bouncing between the two guys, playing the flirtation game, I sauntered up to Dandy and began making out with him in the middle of the bar, approximately 5 feet away from Rocky. Tacky? Most definitely. But, in my defense, I was drunk and it was the only way I knew how to publicly make my decision. I went home with Dandy that night to begin yet another chapter in my life.

Growing Like a Weed

Dandy and I became closer and closer at work after that one night in the bar when he held me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye and told me that Rocky was a douchebag and I deserved better. He was always right there to offer me a helping hand with a smile and a compliment. He wasn't traditionally good looking, but he had that Southern charm going for him. He was always polite, with a laugh and a twinkle in his eye. And on a more shallow note, because he was considerably less attractive than me, he treated me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world.

At the end of the night at work, we'd be standing together polishing glassware until one night he finally mustered up the courage to invite me to hang out. It was like pulling teeth, naturally. For days, he simply stammered out the question of "What are you doing tonight, Carrie?" I'd tell him and he'd reply "Cool... cool." and that was it. Finally, I had enough of these timid tactics and said, "Nothing, what are you doing tonight Dandy? Maybe we should hang out."

It started with him buying me drink after drink in the bar, showering me with praise and compliments and telling me that he'd never met a girl like me. A northern girl with such wit and charm and a laid-back cool attitude. I was down-to-earth and chill, a badass cool girl. These were all his words. I'm a little conceited, but I assure you I'm not that narcissistic. The nights began with a few beers and cocktails and great conversation full of laughs and compliments and flirtations and ended with a drunken kiss here and there.

I told him about the McRugby saga, as well as the Rocky situation, and he in turn, opened up about his latest relationship. He had been dating a girl who was 6 years his junior and the difference in maturity levels was taking a toll. He said it was like dating a high schooler. I listened sympathetically as he told me how she was now going off to school an hour away and that he knew it was over. He said that he cared about her, maybe even loved her and that he still cares about her because she could bring him to his highest high. But in the same respect, her immaturity and selfish nature also would beat him down and bring him to his lowest low point. I marvelled at how being spurned by one asshole had led me right to this sweet southern gentleman. It felt like we were coming from very similar situations and after a few conversations, part of me couldn't help but wonder if fate had put us on near identical paths that would ultimately cross.

Rocky and Oma-gross-a

Apparently I wasn't the only one that had become enamored with all of Rocky's charms. Oma-gross-a, a petite Spanish single mother with sagging breasts and a mouthful of horseteeth who bore a striking resemblance to Omarosa (of "The Apprentice" fame), but even uglier (if that's possible), had also taken notice.

Immediately following our sexcapades, Rocky did a complete 180. All interest in me had been lost. He wasn't the commitment type, I knew this. He'd already gotten what he'd wanted so he was moving on. I just was reluctant to let it go. People began to take note of his callous treatment of me (am I a glutton for punishment or what? Seriously where do I find these guys?)

He put up a wall. Cold and distant were the most apt adjectives to describe his interactions with me. And I sat by like a moonstruck moron watching him use the same lines he'd used on me to woo Oma-gross-a. I was still fairly new to "the Game" and aside from the Soldier, had never really encountered anyone with the cowboy attitude of Rocky. What I saw as the grounds for a new potential relationship, he regarded as nothing more than another notch in the belt. I have to take atleast some of the blame for the resulting mess because I had verbally agreed to a no-strings attached situation, despite what I wanted emotionally.

I would pretty much go out and make an ass of myself, mooning over Rocky only to be spurned and disrespected. One of the quieter guys at work, Dandy (short for Dandelion, on account of he always managed to land himself "in the weeds") was always there to tell me that Rocky was being a prick and to not get caught up in his bullshit and to realize I was too good for him and blah blah supportcakes.

Sniff Sniff.

Smell that state of vulnerability?

Yeaaaahhh, I think we all know what direction my life is headed in next...

"Oh! Rocky!"

I walked into work the next morning and was met with the laughter and teasing of both my trainers and co-workers alike. Thanks to one loudmouth, the word of mine and Rocky's against the wall indiscretions had spread throughout the workplace like wildfire. I am a modest girl by nature, so I felt a little embarassment, but I wasn't ashamed. I just held my head high and just thought of the previous night as being a step into the new direction that my life was about to take.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't planning on being completely carefree and acting like a slut, for lack of a better word. I felt that I had been too conservative with my sex life up until this point and figured my libido could use a kickstart. It wasn't healthy to moon over the same assholes who time and time again stomped all over my heart and then manipulated me to letting them back into my life. I figured I could use a little more fun in my life and try casual dating, rather than strictly entering into monogomous relationships. I did not however, want a repeat of the Soldier incident, one that I find most regrettable now.

My new job was the best environment to launch the brand new me. It was the first catalyst to my social blossoming in a new locale. I'd never really attempted to enjoy the nightlife down here or meet new people, and once I stepped out, I found that I was actually quite the hot commodity. The attention I was getting from guys everywhere was unparalleled and I was loving every minute of it.

Although despite my new vow of keeping everything casual, I started to develope some feelings for Rocky. Aside from being easy on the eyes, he was always saying the right things. And while someone as intelligent as I would have normally been able to immediately see through this facade as complete bullshit, I was coming off of an extremely unhealthy correspondence with McRugby and those pretty words Rocky was feeding me was exactly what I wanted/needed to hear.

I knew from the first moment that I met him, that Rocky was a complete and total player. He was definitely going to end up playing the role of the Pool Boy at work. Part of me didn't care and figured I could get the instant gratification I needed, and the other part of me hoped, as most women do, that I could change his ways and turn him into the man I thought he should be.

In addition to my stealth pursuit of Rocky, the other men at work began to take notice of me. I felt like the Prom Queen at work. For years I'd been haunted by the giant caboose sitting atop of my legs, and despite the words of Sir Mix-A-Lot, I'd never been able to truly own and appreciate my fabulous ghetto booty. But having a butt is apparently all the rage down here. One of the guys still says to me on a nightly basis that I need to put that thang away.

But I digress.

So Rocky was not the commitment type. From the moment I met him I knew he was a flirt who just loved women and sex. We'd had discussions at length about what we wanted from one another (we decided on nothing (I was lying, because despite my new cool and casual facade, I was still deep down, all about relationships)), and reached a mutual understanding. But deep down, I hoped that things would evolve. I didn't sleep with him immediately, there was a period of coy courtship, but I finally succumbed. It was decent, good skills without major duration. I figured the next time might yield better results.

Only there wasn't going to be a next time.

Turning over a New Leaf

Midge flew into town as i was concluding the two week training period at my new job. It was different from any other establishment I'd ever worked in and as the days wore on, the group of employees grew closer and our urges to be sociable also grew. With just a few days to go, we decided that we should start hanging out after we got out of work.

Now in a social setting, I began to see my co-workers in a new light. Namely, I started to notice that some of the guys were very attractive. The one I deemed cutest had a girlfriend, so I moved on to other pursuits. I brought Midge out with me to point out Chubs, the stinky annoying guy I already detested, as well as Rocky, named for the striking similarities he bore to the title character in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. He was... a bit of a meathead, muscular, but not the most eloquent with words and, the major resemblance? He lacked a belly button. Seriously. When he was born, his organs were outside of his body and he has a scar when they were sewn back in, where the belly button would traditionally be found.

After consuming numerous alcoholic beverages and flirting with Rocky as well as a couple of other guys, I began discussing the fuckability of Rocky with Midge. We both agreed that I could use a rebound, one that actually lived in the same state as me. And before I knew it, I had Rocky pinned up against the wall of the club and was making out with him like our plane was going down in flames.

It didn't go past that, but that night left me rejuvenated with a new vigor. I didn't need McRugby any longer. There were plenty of other guys out there, and who knows? Maybe I'd just found one at my new job.

A Tale of Two Men

So, I’ve fallen into regular communication with the Ex again. I’ve come to terms with this. In fact, I really have missed talking with him. He says he can’t wait for me to visit, and he’s sending me a package in the meantime. He calls me almost daily just to say “Hi” and “I miss you.” I don’t really know where it’s going, but I’m just going to roll with it.

Today the Soldier IM-ed me. He’s currently stationed in Kuwait until he gets shipped to Iraq. It’s the first time we’ve talked in a couple weeks.

Meanwhile, the Ex has been badgering me to know who the mystery man I slept with after we broke up is. At first I didn’t think there was any reason for me to tell him, but lately it’s really been eating away at me. I’m feeling guilty about the fact that I slept with one of his teammates, something that I had denied in previous conversations.

I know I shouldn’t have to feel this way because only weeks after we broke up, he got back with his ex-girlfriend, a bitch who was on the rugby team with me. So really, what right would he have to be upset about my hooking up with one of his teammates? Furthermore, the Soldier is overseas now, so it’s not like they could have a run-in.

I know this isn’t a particularly entertaining or witty entry, but it’s something that’s been weighing heavily on my mind. I don’t know if I should tell him or not. Any feedback on the matter would be greatly appreciated.

My Second Tour of Duty

A few weeks after my one-night stand with the Soldier, he was having a going away party because he was being shipped out to Iraq. I went with two of my good friends and drove about 2 hours to drink and be merry with him and his friends. We partied at a VFW hall his family had rented out and then went to a sketchy studio apartment. From there, one of our friends shot off a fire extinguisher and got us kicked out. The Soldier at this point was obviously very drunk. Wouldn’t you be if you were being shipped to Iraq?

We went back to his apartment and stayed over. He was drunkenly groping all of us and could barely see straight. He blindly grabbed my hand and said, “I don’t know who’s hand I’m holding, but we’re going to go fuck in the bathroom.” Who says romance is dead? I laughed and pushed him away and said we were going to bed. I brought a body pillow and my sleeping bag with me to share with my two friends, but he inserted himself between us and fell asleep holding me in a death grip for a few hours. When he finally released and rolled away, my friends and I were treated to a symphony of snores. We were literally laughing our asses off at his loud snores. I’d reach over and hold his nose until they subsided, but he’d quickly pick up where he’d left off just moments after I released my hold.

Somehow everyone else, except for my friend and I, managed to fall asleep despite the loud rumblings coming from the Soldier. We just began having a conversation discussing the melodic rhythms and she said “Maybe we can sing to it?” At this, the Soldier yelled out in his sleep “No!” in an angry tone. We both laughed hysterically and he went on to add, “It’s just bacon!” We laughed uncontrollably until we finally fell asleep. Much like the last time I spent the night with the Soldier, he took my blanket from me and I was left freezing in the night.

We woke up the next morning and he kept trying to fuck me in the ass while my friends were asleep. Finally the sounds of my resistance woke them up and we then sat around laughing and talking, until finally he got restless and kicked them out of the house so that I could give him a proper send-off. They left, we had more incredible sex that he guilted me into (who can say no to someone who’s going to Iraq?), and I gave him a Saint Christopher medallion for protection. We went and sat downstairs and talked, waiting for my friends to return. I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and left.

While he was stationed at Ft. Dix surrounded by nothing but, I wrote him letters and sent him cookies and we talked online. He actually got to come home for a week, but I wasn’t able to see him. The last time I spoke to him, he abruptly cut the conversation short because he was “Going off to fuck some chick.” He’s overseas now; I think about him sometimes. I wish him the best and a quick and safe return, but I don’t foresee any further calls of booty duty. With our last conversation, I’m pretty sure I was honorably discharged from his service.

The Soldier or How I Joined the Poon Platoon

A few months after I’d broken up with the Ex, it was my friend Tits’ 21st birthday. We went to a bar in a nearby town at around 10 o’clock that night. It was a bunch of couples and me + the Soldier. The Soldier was a friend of mine. Not a close friend. In fact, up until two days prior to this night, we hadn’t had a full-length conversation. He was also a member of the rugby team, a newcomer that semester. I’d noticed him a few months earlier and thought him to be extremely "fuckable." But immediately after making this observation, I also noted that he was a complete and total manwhore and made a mental note to steer clear.

I had driven the Soldier and myself to the bar that night, and to show his gratitude, he bought me a beer and a mixed drink. Nothing like feeding alcohol to the designated driver, is there? He put his hat on my head and left to walk around the bar socializing. For a glimpse into his character, let me tell you that the hat read "Poon Platoon." Class act, all the way.

After getting Tits sufficiently hammered, we left to go find a hot dog stand to appease her drunken munchies. While sitting there, talking to the Soldier, I was becoming increasingly bored with his drunken ramblings. He also started looking really good to me, so I decided to lean in and make a move. Nothing like some hardcore making out in the middle of a hot dog stand. Like I said, class act, all the way.

Everyone finished their hot dogs and we got into our respective cars. The Soldier told me that he had guard duty (yes, he was in the National Guard and was actually a soldier) but no alarm clock, so he needed to stay at my place to wake up in time. I know, I know. That was the most ridiculous story ever. And I didn’t buy it. But, I did pounce on him once we got back into my car. When we finally broke apart, and I began driving home, I knew I had lost the battle.

For the record, don’t drink and drive, kids. This has been Carrie’s public service announcement.

I made it back to school and as we made our way to the building I told the Soldier "I’m not going to sleep with you tonight." He said that was fine and I added, "I’m not going to blow you either." He laughed and said that was fine too. We walked in silence until he spoke up and said, "I bet you’re breaking every single one of your rules right now." This wasn’t the first freakishly accurate observation he’d made about my character that night. It amazed me how this guy I had only really talked to a handful of times could read my character so well. I guess that had a large part to do with why I let him stay in my room that night. A note to all guys, if you can see through my bullshit, I’ll probably sleep with you.

I locked him out of my room so I could clean up all of my laundry I’d strewn all over the place when I was hurriedly getting ready for the bar. Had I known he’d be coming home with me, I might have done a little more preparation in the way of putting my clothes away. I changed into my pajamas, which I thought would serve as a prevention of sex by eliminated the undressing process. It didn’t. When I finally let him into my room, he began slowly undressing, all the while shooting me a smug smile. I responded by rolling my eyes and turning over in my bed. He pulled me up to kiss me and then picked me up and tossed me onto the bed. I’ll spare the details, but let’s just say, Best sex of my life. He left that morning, after a night of his nocturnal flatulence and blanket hogging, and I felt kind of dirty, but quickly got over it. I did what I had to for my country.