It begins with a couple drinks and ends with you sneaking out in the morning.
Bob hooked up with Carol. Carol never got the next day phone call.
This type of casual encounter is not my usual MO. But every now and then, Little J wrests the reins of reason from Big J.
Like any other human being with a vag on an internet dating site, I regularly receive propositions for various types of 'hanging out'. Most are quite laughable and easily ignored. But some take you by complete surprise. Enter Dawson.* He was hot, wrote in complete sentences, and was very frank in hashing out the details of meeting up. So with this refreshing change, I found myself driving over to one of the local colleges. (And yes, the fact that he was living in a dorm did tip the scales in his favor.)
After a short walk up to his room and some idle chit chat (He was a senior philosophy major from sunny Florida.), things got serious. Now, dear Dawson was not that great on making eye contact, but I tried to chalk that up to nerves. He was still a hot, young college kid, and Little J has a hard time paying attention to details like that. However, approximately five minutes in, I hear, "Something's not working." He then looks me in the eyes and I'm met with this:
The next words uttered were something no woman ever wants to hear while you're still inside her.
"I think I feel bad."
We then cease activities and what was supposed to be a frivolous bit of fun, turned into a free psychotherapy session. I asked him to elaborate on why he felt 'bad'. He then reveals that he's only ever been in open relationships, but that the one he's currently in is the first one that's felt serious to him. He informed me that he didn't anticipate feeling this bad about hooking up with someone else. What followed was hands down, the oddest post-coitus conversation I will hopefully ever have in my life:
"Have you been able to figure out how to not feel bad when you feel like you've hurt someone?"
"Yeah, apologize to the person you hurt and then accept the fact that you fucked up."
"I tried apologizing to someone else the last time something like this happened, and they never forgave me."
"Well, that's a chance you take."
"Yeah. You want me to walk you back to your car?"
Rather than a night of blissful excitement, I spent the remainder of my evening with a lot of gin and a lesbian.
Lesson learned? Avoid philosophy majors.
*Names have been changed to protect the idiots.
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