“What is the most romantic thing that has ever happened to you?” asks one of our lunch servers. She is in her 20s, has a one-year-old, and is mightily struggling to lose the last 20 pounds of her baby weight in time for the big wedding this summer when she marries the father of the baby.
“Come on, RG,” she smiles, “You were married for a really long time!”
“But I’m only separated,” I remind her.
“Okay, so, what about the most romantic thing lately, then?” she winks.
I stare at this beautiful yet annoying, cloying girl, whose baby I have met and who is also as adorable and beautiful as her mom, and thankfully has a personality as yet to be determined.
“I mean, when it was my boyfriend’s and my first anniversary of dating,” she continues, “I covered our bed in flowers, and then I lit candles all around the bedroom, and then I set up all our sex toys right by the bed and…” at which point I stop listening. I am not a prude. I just didn’t want the visual of this girl and her toys.
“So it was all about sex, huh?” I ask, pretending to care more about my private event calendar corrections than I do about the conversation, which is mostly true.
“Isn’t it always about sex?” she asks, giggling.
I regard her bright blue eyes, her fair and perfect skin, her long, thick and shiny ash-blond hair. Maybe for now it is, I want to say, but don’t. But wait, just wait, I would never dream of saying.
~~~
“Please, let me buy you dinner,” says the sort-of handsome guy whom the bartender at my regular spot has encouraged to chat with me. “In return, do you know of a nearby liquor store so I can get some vodka for some friends coming into town?”
I consider this nice man for a moment. He is buying me dinner, and we have only barely met. I have a bottle of Kettle One gathering dust on top of my fridge because I forgot to bring it to my friend who was visiting her grandmother in Miami before Christmas. I decide I have the perfect trade in order to not feel beholden.
“Hey, I have a bottle of decent enough vodka I will never drink. Happy to give it to you,” I tell him.
“Great!” he says. “Drop it at the front desk of my hotel. We’ll party tomorrow, okay? Here’s my card.” His room number is already scrawled on the back of it.
Um….
“For now, take a walk down the street with me?” he smiles, holding out his hand.
I agree to his obvious overture, knowing the walk is where it will end for me, because I want to test my new-found strength of self, my new, confident aloneness. And who knows, maybe he really only wants to walk and talk? Uh huh.
It takes, oh, about five minutes into the walk, and talk turns to this: “How long were you married? Did you split up because he had an affair? Did you have an affair? Have you dated anyone seriously since you moved here?”
Um…
“Because, you know,” he says. “I mean, you’re okay, right? You, know, really okay?”
F— my new-found strength of self. F— my confident aloneness. I am f—ing no one. NO ONE. And certainly never this guy!
~~~
“Can I call you?” asks a seemingly reserved gentleman my age or older.
No. Never. But whatever.
“Well, I don’t know,” I answer. “I am still married….”
“Look,” he says, interrupting. “I have a 28-year-old girlfriend back home. She tells me, ‘You can have this every night,’ but I don’t know that I want that, you know?”
Um…
“I don’t want that kind of sex every night, do you?” he asks, completely serious. “Besides, there’s such a generational gap between us. Huge, you know? I think she may be more interested in my money. Do you think?”
“Nah,” I reassure him. “It’s definitely all about the sex,” I say as I reach for my check.
~~~
“I am so done with dating,” says my two-doors-down neighbor who is drinking whiskey straight up along with the gay neighbor who lives in the apartment between us. “The things these guys do! The things they ask!” she laments.
I nod, sipping my wine. As much as I want to move to a place located right on the beach, I love my neighbors here in my current neighborhood that is two miles from the ocean. I love it simply because I love this unexpected banter on our shared balcony.
“Oh my God, the lines I hear,” laughs our gay neighbor. “You have no idea.”
“Ha, I do!” laughs my neighbor, and I toast her whiskey with my wine.
“The latest pick-up for me was about my watch,” he laughs, knocking back the rest of his drink. “I mean, come on. A watch?”
This reminds me of the conversation I witnessed in the vet’s waiting room this afternoon, when I was waiting for the vet to dispense eye drops for my dog.
“I have that exact watch!” an older guy said to a younger guy. “But you have the orange band. Mine is black.”
Um…
“I know what you mean,” I tell my neighbor. He is understandably skeptical. No really, I will him to believe, I do!
~~~
When you make up your mind to try to relax and have fun, to go out on your own and make nice with everyone, you tend to hear so many more stories.
You also find out one very important truth: It is all–absolutely all–about sex.
Comments
16 responses to “It’s All About Sex”
Personally it’s all about intimacy and sharing. Sex is, or is not, a by-product. Otherwise it’s just masturbation.
I sincerely agree with you that it’s all about sex.The people who tend to dissagree are those who haven’t really experienced the dating scene before.
Kim–Can you now see why I am embracing my aloneness??? I am done, done, done caring about “dating.” Done! And kind of relieved to have made that decision, actually.
Olivia–As I mentioned to Kim–done! It is such a ridiculous scene, after all.
So it sounds like that folks generally agree with Harry.
Hmm. Personally, I feel that the sexual aspect is always going to be part of any relationship. But to feel that is “absolutely all” it’s about? No doubt for some, it certainly will be and those folks usually find like persons to share their expectations. But for the others, I’m always hoping that the long, frustrating and sometimes painful search will eventually pay off.
But then again, I’m 46, single, and not actively dating so, you know, what do I know?
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Rick–Oh, that movie! I forgot how great the writing was. Genius.
Not to sound all sappy and overly supportive…
I’ve found with my self and plenty of my friends that the right person or decision comes along when you stop trying… I knew for my tastes that I did not want to pick someone up at a bar etc…
For me it was all about being happy with my situation and who I was…
Gotta agree with Joe. Been in and out of relationships like we all have….the best ones always came about when I wasn’t looking and wasn’t really interested in starting a new relationship. Honestly though, if you aren’t happy with you, if you don’t love you for you, how can anyone else?
I think for women, sex is mostly about intimacy. I’m not sure that’s the case for men. Even in a relationship, I think men think sex brings about intimacy, not vice versa. It’s hard to make them see that, for me, the small gestures of telling me I look nice, or bringing me home Diet Coke, or cleaning the litter box puts me in the mood much more than you grabbing my breast or asking me if I want to fool around.
Dating is difficult at best. After my divorce, I decided that I needed to get out and meet people rather than mope around the house. On my first “date,” the man across the table from me stared at my breasts the whole time. (I’d like to think that I have a pretty enough face to look at.) The next day, he sent me messages saying how he’d like to see my lips around a certain part of him. UGH! I was so freaked out — and so glad he didn’t have my phone number or know where I lived. After that, I wore turtleneck sweaters to every first date.
There were quite a few more toads — one kiss could never turn any of them into a prince — before I found my prince… and that took more than one kiss to find out.
I am suddenly intensely grateful for my wonderful husband and not having to be in the dating scene. I’d almost forgotten how utterly horrid it was. It’s good to be reminded of it now and then, so I remember to be thankful for what I have. I hope things get better for you!
Deanna – that is so true! I’ve been married for two years now and my (younger, dating) friends and I were talking about turn-ons…They were listing the usual suspects “nice abs, nice butt, romantic dinner, massage” And me, the married one in the group is saying “dishes washed, laundry done….”
It’s because when I know those things are done, I can relax…otherwise it’s in the back of my mind that that stuff needs to get done!
It’s funny though because even though I’m married I find it’s still all about sex! DH and I were talking and he was complaining about the lack there of and I was complaining about the lack of help around the house (see the correlation?) and everytime I’d mention romance, or housework he’d come back with “But what about sex?” Aghhhhhh 🙂
I think it’s nicer just to sit in the coffee shop and have a drink together and stare out the window at everybody. But the, later, it’s all about the sex.
Joe–Nicely said.
Mia–Part of this no-dates-for-me time (which can be eternity, as far as I am concerned) is to remember that I don’t need anyone in order to be anyone but me, and then to take time to simply be happy being me.
Deanna–Small gestures equals great sex. Indeed.
Julie–Ah yes, a lovely way to say, “Had a great time at dinner last night. Maybe we can meet for drinks again later this week?” Eeeew.
Heather–Always good to be thankful, and things are already better.
Deanna—As you put it so well, when the honeymoon is over, and reality sets in, small gestures of shared household chores can do wonders to make it feel easier to be all about sex.
Joe in Vegas–Oh you wonderful romantic, you! 😉
First date with a guy: Seemed nice until he started talking about how much money he makes, then made a comment about how he’d like to take me away as I probably look good in a bikini. He made fun of my sleeping schedule ( I work on the westcoast for a stock brokerage… 6:30 start…), then asked if I’d like to go skinny dipping.
Fast forward to my bf now: we met as friends, I wasn’t interested in him at ALL! I actually suggested taking HIM out to get him laid.
He took his time and eventually let his intentions be known. We didn’t have sex for a month, as we wanted to take it slow – but… he’s the exception (of most guys I’ve dated). Most guys I’ve dated seem to lose interest when i tell them I’m not going to sleep with them on the 1st, 2nd or even 3rd date…
Gawd dating sucks.
The ones that usually claim such busy sex lives can probably tell you every character on every tv show. Jes’ saying.
I’m in love with my right hand again. Sigh.
I am so frustrated with the dating scene. I guess I owe part of it to the fact that I can’t decide what I want. I only wanted great sex for a really long time. Now, I think I want more…but not so much more as a total commitment or anything. See? I haven’t a clue.
Should I sit back and wait for someone to come along and knock my socks off and be all I’ve ever hoped for wrapped up in one person? Or do I love the one I love, flaws and all and wait for him to decide he wants something more?