You meet a guy at your friends’ party. He’s kind of cute. He has a bit of a left wild eyebrow and some facial hair that’s looking a bit patchy at the neck. You’ve still dubbed him as pretty attractive overall and you’ve already glanced at your friend filling up her keg beer for approval.
He seems to be interested in the backless shirt you chose for tonight’s casual-yet-cute look and you’re feeling a bit frisky (and braless). So, you think, ah, what the heck, might as well chat with this handsome(ish) fellow for a while.
The first few sentences are the usual small talk. Who-are-you, what-do-you-do, what-do-you-study, and who-do-you-know-here type of questions. You’re really just analyzing his every answer, waiting for him to say he’s applying to med school, is president of an interesting society, or really has any ambition at all as his buddy walks past and says,
“YO JAMES, BEER BONG DUDE?! WE ARE GETTING F*CKED TONIGHT”.
He mentions he’s in his final year of engineering and has a placement with a firm next year (okay, hot) and he manages to have already asked you at least four questions about yourself between awkward sips of beer from a red solo cup.
Before you know it, you’re thinking he might be a good listener, funny, and normal. All this while 50-some people are chugging down whatever shitty beer is in the keg, 3 girls are probably crying in the basement and some guy is definitely choking up the pizza he ate for dinner in the bathroom.
You think, well this is definitely not where I pictured meeting my husband but he probably wasn’t thinking that either and 5 years down the line we will laugh about this over coffee in bed.
After an hour or so you decide it’s been way too long since you’ve seen your girl squad and you start keeping your eyes peeled for the rest of the backless crew, spotting at least 10 other plaid shirts tied around waists before you find Alison. You apologize to cutie, but must be elusive and mysterious, so you must go “find your friends” and dip off for a while, feeling confident he will text you in the morning.
You find Alison and she slurs out a comment about the new hottie and in 30 seconds or less you prattle off his quick stats – who he lives with, what he studies, what he ate for breakfast, and that he has a bit of a wonky eyebrow, but you don’t care because he’s funny.
Later that night, you get a witty text from him. You’re thinking, yes, it worked, he couldn’t resist my exposed skin and irresistible charm, he’s a real man, maybe we will go on a real date. Then the inevitable,
“So what are you doing now? Want to come over…”
It’s 3 AM. Now this is probably where we stop and decide how we feel that night. We start to question our morals, how much we are enjoying the pizza, and if we want to “just hook-up” with this guy that had some potential. We question whether he even really liked us or if our ass just looked good that night. Worst of all, we probably feel pretty great about ourselves over this text, quite flattered really.
But, we wonder, did he not register our hour conversation as something more valuable than some sex and an awkward morning goodbye? I mean, he seemed like he could be something real, especially while we were talking about where we might want to live someday and that we definitely both want a big dog (at which you paused for daydreams of running in the park with said male, laughing as your chocolate lab prances through the trees.)
At what point did his libido take over and decide I was better suited for this late night text, versus the morning “Hello how was your night?”
Sometimes, we all can be down for some late night fun, but when you find a guy you like, you are always hoping he turns out to be a man who appreciates your brains AND your booty. Yet, most men I encounter find it difficult to balance being a real man and exercising that libido.
Where are the men who can balance both?
Where are the men that are as smooth as our freshly waxed legs; those who seem to get between them and still stay for the cuddle, and the movie night out on Saturday, and the Sushi date on Wednesday afternoon. I believe they are really out there somewhere, and maybe they need us women to start setting the example and requesting that date, versus giving into the late night text. I mean, if we are looking for that real thing, shouldn’t we be focusing on falling for the man and not the libido?
Featured Image via Unsplash
Loved this! Super engaging.