In Defense Of One Night Stands
August 14, 2013 § 7 Comments
Ok. I’ve never actually had one but not for lack of trying. I tried to, really I did. You want to hear about it? Ok then. This is the story of an ill-fated attempt to have a spontaneous one night stand.
Let’s take a trip back in time, back to a time when I was lost in transition. I was fresh out of a break-up and spending my free afternoons wandering around the city, occasionally (all the time) I’d run into things that (for no reason what-so-ever) reminded me of my ex and I’d just start laughing and laughing. I couldn’t stop myself.
Oh. Did I say laughing? That was a typo. I meant crying. I couldn’t stop crying. Or it might be even more accurate to say weeping. I was walking around weeping in public like a big fucking asshole. Obviously I was in a very good place.
This is when a very dear friend of mine offered up some helpful advice. She said, ‘Jamie, you know what you need? You need someone to fuck the sadness out of you.’ And she even added a – ‘Boom. Problem solved.’ for extra emphasis. While I was open to it I didn’t like the idea of having completely unattached sex with a stranger but after exhausting all other post break-up remedies I slowly began to come around.
Maybe my dear friend was right? Maybe I did just need the sadness fucked away. So I set my sights on finding someone to do just that. What can I say, I was simply a modest girl with big ambitions. I should also mention that I had been watching a lot of Sex and the City.
(Mom, please stop reading)
It all started when I met this cute boy. The kind of cute I can only really describe as blurry because at the time I met him I was drunk-as-fuck (but in a cute-classy sorta way). Was he charming? Funny? Totally could have been. I really couldn’t tell you. Either way we were speaking in cursive and talking with our hands, it was all so romantic. I won’t go into detail as to what happened next but insert a – heyo! – here.
Cut to: The next morning when I was like – ‘Ta-da! Rise and shine! Mission accomplished! And guess what mothera-fucka? Zero. Fucks. Given.’ And just as I was doing the full on running man (in my mind). Mr. One-Night-Stand says, ‘It’s such a nice day out. What do you think about going to the zoo?’
Uhm….. What the….??
If he would have asked me to go for pancakes I would have politely (as I had rehearsed) stared thoughtfully into his eyes and said – ‘Nope. Peace out, SUCKA!’
But the zoo? I mean, come on. What was his angle? Why was he trying to ruin this for me? Why couldn’t he just read my mind and get the fuck out of there? It seemed like a pretty fair expectation at the time.
Fuck you. Fuck you and your adorable invite to go look at animals. Yeah…obviously I want to go to the zoo. Dick. That’s a no-brainer. You should note that part I did actually say out loud and he not only laughed but he STILL wanted to go to the zoo.
I didn’t stand a fucking chance.
After spending a day at the zoo with Mr. Supposed-To-Be-One-Night-Stand I discovered he actually was funny AND charming AND pretty damn cute.
Oh and did I mention he had a puppy? HE HAD A PUPPY FOR GOD’S SAKE!!
Obviously after that we began dating. The days and months that followed were as blurry as the night we met but I do remember it was fun and effortless. Until about 8 months later when it stopped being fun and effortless and became clear that neither of us knew what we were doing with each other. It was a good run but we had reached our expiration date.
When I finally had time to breathe I noticed that during all of this I had completely forgotten to be sad about what’s-his-name-ex-boyfriend. The cloud had lifted. Even when I dared myself to search for it, I came up empty handed. I had been cured into complete and utter okay-ness. And this is something I can only attribute to Mr. Supposed-To-Be-One-Night-Stand’s capacity for keeping my attention. Although it was temporary it was exactly the distraction I had needed.
After things fizzled out we remained friends. Which was (and still is) a unicorn in my world. I do not do that shit. Eventually we lost contact but only after he sold all of his belongings and left to travel the world. Which is a charitable way of saying he was planning on being homeless (and taking a lot of selfies) for an extended amount of time in several different locations. I did receive a couple of postcards but after a while they stopped and I can only assume he was either murdered or sold in to the sex trade industry or both.
Moral of the story. If there is a moral to this story, which I can’t guarantee there is – You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need.*
Rebound Chicka Wow Wow
*Rolling Stones (obvi)