Jack is a one night stand. He happened one day when I was drinking from about 2pm until about 2am. My stamina is still fierce apparently! We met at the bar, and he came over and started talking to me, I just remember he kept smiling. This is embarassing, but I was so drunk that I literally don’t remember a thing we talked about. Not one thing.
When we wanted to leave the bar, I decided I wanted to check out a roof and see the stars (this is the kind of dumb shit I say and do when wasted!) We went over to his friend’s apartment, who he was housesitting for, and went up to the roof. He didn’t kiss me, and I was waiting for it. When we went back downstairs (after I tripped about 10 times) and got a beer. It was at this point when I realized I couldn’t drink any more, and had some water. We then got into bed and started kissing.
He was not a good kisser. Not at all. So I kept turning away, then somehow we were having sex. He wasn’t good at that either. I think we actually stopped mid act. It was not going to happen for me, and perhaps he was as drunk as I was. At that point I passed out, and woke at 6am. It was that “holy fucking shit where the fuck am I?????” feeling. He got up to the bathroom, and I have never gotten dressed so fast in my life. Somehow leather leggings and a kimono did not look fierce at 6am.
I was on my way out the door when he stopped me, and said “hey, let me get your number!” Ughhh… no…. I gave it to him as quickly as possible, then he felt it necessary to remind me that his name was Jack. Thanks, thanks, Jack. Now I really feel like a hooker! I left and slept for the entire next day. Seriously, ick factor at a maximum!
That was Friday, and on Sunday Jack actually called me. I was shocked. I didn’t expect or particularly want to speak to him, I assumed the asking for my number deal was a pleasantry. He left an adorable message, very funny and sweet. I waited 3 days to call back, and debated not calling back at all. April practically forced me to. Afterall, he was a nice guy, funny, and I mean what the hell, I’d already had sex with him. April is a firm believer that first-time-sex is not an indication of further sex with that person. I disagree, then again maybe I should take someone else’s advice for a change.
I called him back, and thank god, left a message. I was praying for voicemail, and god answered my prayer. Then I felt relieved and went shopping. Unfortunately, I didn’t lock my phone, and it dialed him 23 times over a few hours. Lovely. Now Jack thinks I’m a fucking stage 5 clinger!
I text him later that night, telling him I’m not crazy. He laughed (typed-laughed that is) and said no worries. That was 4 weeks ago, and Jack and I are now Facebook friends and talk a few times a week. We keep attempting to meet up but our schedules are both insane. He has a good job, and it seems that he is actually, in fact, the rare species in New York City – NORMAL. Not good at sex and almost 30 years old, but if April is right, then that can be worked on. This is coming from a girl who is dating a guy who takes 45 minutes to have an orgasm.
Crazy how the one person I never planned on talking to again is someone I’m actually considering dating. Amazing how standards for everything (especially apartments and men) get lower and lower when you live in New York.
His birthday party is coming up and I might go if Dick doesn’t come into town. Maybe it’s better to move forward rather than backward…
