A Letter To You About Last Night

I would like to set the record straight about a few things. Last night was fun. A lot of fun. I didn’t expect to meet you at the bar--I’d never expect to meet you there. I lament all the time about the lack of available men like you. College educated, cute, and you read. And, not just the paper or the advice column in Playboy, but books. You asked me what my favorite books were and, then, went through a list of your favorites. That sealed the deal, by the way. Once that conversation started, I knew I would have to kiss you before the night was over. I would have to see if those lips felt as wonderful as the words coming out of them sounded. So, going back to your apartment was a natural progression that I was in favor of and still don’t regret but I wanted you to know how to make the end of the evening as wonderful as the beginning.

First of all, don’t assume that men have the market cornered on needing a piece of ass. Women have needs just like you do and at times we are also looking for ways to have those needs met utilizing the very little free time that we have. Between my responsibilities of work, school, family, friends, and everything else, it may surprise you to learn that I, too, have very little time for a “real” relationship.

Don’t gaze into my eyes. Its so intimate and it makes me think that you are really interested in the depth of my soul despite the fact that you have not inquired about my middle name.

Don’t assume that my attention to detail is indicative of a desire to bear children or anything else. I may actually just be interested, for this brief moment, in the superiority of science fiction or whatever else you’re so excitedly telling me about. It doesn’t mean that I’ve fallen in love with you or that I want to marry you. I don’t know your middle name either.

Don’t make plans, even flippantly, while either of us is missing any article of clothing. If I hear you utter a phrase that includes “next time” and then you “forget” to get my number, it should not surprise you if I am confused about your intentions. Nor should it surprise you if, after I am no longer confused, I am angry and don’t want to sleep with you the next time I see you.

Why is it so hard for you to say, “this was great. I would like to do this again but I don’t think I want/can handle/have time for (insert any lame excuse) the true entanglements of a committed relationship. Would you want to do this again even though we wouldn’t really be dating or is that insulting? What are you looking for?” At which point, I could tell you that I would be interested in sleeping with you again as long as every now again cocktails and conversation were included (that is how we got here in the first place you know), and you have to be nice and respectful and interested in what I am saying or doing while we are together. Agreeing to have sex with you on a regular basis while not requiring you to meet anyone in my life is not to be taken as a license to be uninterested in everything that happens while my clothes are on. Our relationship may be casual but our sex is not and if you are willing to engage in the act with me, I expect that you will act like an upstanding adult about it. Believe it or not, you can treat me friend-ly, even though we are not engaging in the traditional girlfriend/boyfriend relationship that a lot of our peers are. Just like you, I can make the distinction, I just need you to maintain clarity on what our definition of friendliness is. Because, like it or not, we are doing something together even if we are not “together”.

Perhaps, this is a conversation you should try before we reach the bedroom, if it is your bedroom, so that our departure from one another does not include any awkward silences that we have to blame on miscommunication. If its my bedroom, then, I will assume the responsibility of introducing the subject so that you can leave with your clothes and dignity in tact before I confuse you with what I have to show you in the bedroom verses what I don’t have to show you at the door.