How Not to Get Laid

Submitted by Marcus, Age 36, Florida

While living in Hogtown, I had a good friend who happened to be quite hot, who I had an off and on thing for. We were good friends, and both of us valued that, which made it tough and awkward during those moments when ‘the urge’ would strike.

Two of these moments are worthy of a telling. Hers first. One late night, after I had gotten home from work, I was settling down for a bit of chatting on IRC and some gaming. It was a boggy but not totally unpleasant Florida night, so I had opted to open my windows rather than run the air. I had just smoked a bowl which made me a bit jumpy, when there was a sharp rap on my door. Paranoia set in as I thought who the hell could that be at this time, but it was none other than my good friend. In a short, black, ‘do me’ outfit. She was a very hot buzzed chick looking for some action.

However, none of this came close to registering with me at the moment. I rather just was relieved that it was someone I knew (again, stupid paranoia) and let her in. She has been out clubbing, and since the bars had just closed and she had found no luck there, she said something to the effect of, “I’d thought I’d just come see Marcus!”

None of this registered on me. Not her dress, her timing, her attitude, or even her manner of greeting me. I went right into “hey, good friend” mode, and we smoked and drank a few beers, sitting well apart from each other. I resumed my spot at my desk and she in front of the TV. It was not a big apartment so we were still just a few feet from each other, but it might as well have been light years as far as intimacy was concerned.

She persisted a bit, her knowing me well and reading the fact that I’d totally missed all the obvious signs, asking me to come over and sit and watch TV with her, but I declined. At first because I was still just in “hanging out with mah buddy” mode, but then as it finally dawned on me what was going on, a very sad sort of awkwardness set in. While I had indeed entertained, and even at times fantasized about, the idea of hooking up with her, my failure to see what was right in front of me had taken its toll on my stoned, slightly buzzed, and tired ego. After the movie she had made a pretense of watching finally finished, she said good night.

My attempt, while much more direct, is even better in its rejection and awkwardness factor. Having been a while since the above story, and having gone though an extended dry spell recently, I somehow rationalized making a move. Of course, given my knack for timing, it’s no surprise how this one ended.

I even discussed my move in advance with a mutual friend of ours. He told me I was way off base, but I dismissed his opinion. Part of me knew he was right — hell, I knew it was a long shot — but, dammit, I was horny and was determined to try.

Having invited her over on some rather flimsy pretense, we hung out for not very long before I blurted out, “Want to fool around?” The look on her face was pretty classic as she went though shock, then surprise, then a bit of sad understanding as she framed her rejection. We both took it well. It was by far the most direct line that we ever shared, and after she left, she called me later that night to ask if I wanted to hang out with her and a mutual friend. I begged off, of course, feeling way too awkward, but nonetheless felt better for her making the effort.

Our paths separated as I finally moved away from Hogtown, and nothing ever did happen between us. I still do value the friendship we had, but at times do, of course, have to ask myself “what if?”

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