So here is part two of this entry. We are in bed and things are progressing, ahem, and she starts saying, this is in the middle of “things” that she has never had an orgasm. Is that a lot of pressure suddenly placed on me? I really don’t know how to reply; I am not much of a talker under these sort of circumstances. I mean, yeah, sometimes I go with the ‘oh, who’s a naughty boy, now?’ (not really) but sometimes some talking, not as a standard practice.
So I am trying ‘moves’ or whatever that might make something happen, but then, you know how all this goes. Once a topic is on the table, so to speak, suddenly there is this underlying tone and expectations, or maybe that’s the wrong word, but you are trying and it’s trying too hard and then if two people are thinking too much about how you want something to happen, but don’t really expect it to happen or think that there is a strong possibility, suddenly there is pretty much no way it’s going to happen. And in this particular case, it has NEVER happened. And thoughts just pop into your mind and you say something totally innapropriate and you can’t take it back, even though you know it just came out wrong in the midst of all the ‘stuff.’ Argh.
Wow, that may have been the longest sentence I have ever written. Rambling, check. Disconcerted, check. no defined direction, check. I’ve got a lot covered with that sentence.
So then I say, “I understand you can’t ‘get there’ could you just let me” which is what I meant, as in OK we’ll work around this, and at a future ‘to be determined date’ we will manage this whole thing. But that’s not what I said. I said “could you just let me..use you to get there” and of course I didn’t mean, ‘use you’ as in “use you and never call again.” It was just a bad bad choice of words in the heat of a confusing complicated time. So she is like ‘use me’ and bolts out of the bedroom, slapping on clothes and running out of the apartment. I am confused.
I don’t know where she went, but I know she’s pissed. I wait a few minutes. No return. So I write a note apologizing for the poor choice of words and let her know I really like her and stuff and I hope we can work through this. Understand this is only our first date, so we have no real solid relationship, just (previously anyway) a good feeling about each other. (This is also twenty plus years ago, by the way, not last week or something)
So I get done writing this note which actually developed into a full page handwritten letter, and suddenly there are three guys in the apartment with me. I say hey, how you doing? or something equally clever. And they say they are friends of Jill and she told them she was just raped. I am thining I am in a sticky situation here. But I don’t lose my mind. I tell them the story, including the dragging me into the ladies room at the restaurant and all that stuff, and where it all led. I also invite them to read the note, so they can see I am sincere and hopefully realize what the real story is. And they do. I also say I realize we could end up getting into a fight and if that’s what it is going to come to, I am also ready for that contingency. Hopefully not.
The ‘leader’ of the three reads my note, and then thinks a second about it and starts to share a story with me. He says he graduated from high school with Shelly, and she was prom queen, top of the food chain and all that, cheerleader, etc, and in college she was a small fish in a big pond and didn’t transition well. She got into drugs and guys, and well, had a rough couple years, but had just recently cleaned up, but still was having real self esteem issues. I happened along and was a nice guy who complimented her, and she appreciated it, but still had this confusion going on.
So, in a nutshell, they believed me and let me leave, unharmed. I tried calling her a couple times to apologise for the misunderstanding/confusion, but the second time, the number was disconnected. I even went back to that cabana bar, and she didn’t work there anymore. A sad ending to the story, but it’s just another short chapter in my life.
