No Strings Attached
Q: What do I have in common with men who are movie stars, pro-athletes and wealthy oil magnates?
A: I have an affinity for a long distance booty call.
Shortly before I left New York, I somehow found myself running with a fast and fun crowd of beautiful party animals that I could never hope to keep up with. One of them took a particular interest in me, and was literally the only man I met in NY that knew what he was doing in the sack. I would never consider trying to date this guy, even if we weren’t 800 miles apart, but he certainly is fun to mess around with.
Due to the nature of his job, he spends time in Chicago about every couple of months. He always touches base before he comes to town, to see if I’m available, even if we haven’t spoken for months. I am not one to turn down the promise of a good free meal, decent conversation and a mind-blowing orgasm, all with no strings attached – so I always clear my calendar for him.
The last time he came to town, we agreed to meet up one night, as per usual. Suddenly, the day he’s due to arrive, I came out of a meeting at work to find 10 panicked text/voicemail messages on my phone about how he failed to reserve a hotel room in time and there’s a convention in town so everything is booked, and is it cool that he stays with me for 2 days?
Ummmm let me think about that one…. NO.
The NSA arrangement does not include B&B service. You do not get to take a shit in my toilet, rifle through my kitchen drawers and leave me dirty towels to wash. Luckily, I think he realized he had overstepped his bounds (perhaps because I didn’t respond for 6 hours), and I later received another message telling me he was going to be staying with his work colleague.
Although we had worked out the housing issue, in my mind he had just dealt our non-relationship the death blow. I was instantly repulsed by him even asking such a favor, even in a momentary panic. When we went out the next evening, I found myself forcing laughter at his jokes. Whereas I would normally be interested to know what was happening with his career, I found myself wishing he would shut up about it. We started chatting with some guy sitting next to us. and when he found out we lived in two separate cities he asked, “So which one of you two is going to move for the other one?” I was pretty drunk by this point, so I shouted,”NEITHER!! OH MY GOD NO.” The poor guy who had asked us looked so confused, while my date just laughed and said to me, “Never coming back to NY, really?”
The next time he is in town, I know I will make up an excuse and blow him off. Maybe I’ll tell him I’m seeing someone, and let’s face it, everyone knows that won’t be the truth.
The real question I have to ask myself after the NSA debacle is why am I so terrified at the thought of letting anyone in? Here is this guy, whom I normally would enjoy the company of, asking me for a pretty simple favor – a favor that a sane person would probably think is actually a small one – and I freak the fuck out and decide it must be cut off immediately. I consistently pick out guys I know I don’t like or am not attracted to, because then I don’t have to worry about even wanting to commit. And on the other end of the spectrum, the only guys I do get interested in are pretty much not at all interested in me, so I know I don’t stand a chance there, either.
I mean, if the only thing I’m committed to is not being committed, I might as well find a way to get rich marketing my tried and true techniques to others, ala George Clooney’s side job in “Up In The Air.” And we all know how well that ended for him.