9 Beers Does Not a Good Booty Call Make

I have to change the pattern where I put dudes before myself.

Sunday, 8:01 p.m.

Okay so it wasn’t the wisest decision maybe? I’d been at my parents all weekend, a 3-hour drive, and was almost back to the city. I could fit a date in I believe I realized. I began to think through my options as I drove. Prince Albert had his kids until 8 so he was out. I’d only hung out with the Banker twice, a happy hour and football-game watching at a bar (I’ve just realized I have not posted about the Banker!) so I didn’t feel completely comfortable reaching out for a booty call (although I had done that drunkenly the night I met him.) So Liberal Marine it was. I knew he’d been at a family football party all day and wondered about that state of his sobriety. And therefore love-making abilities. Beer and men doesn’t make a great time ya know.

“How are you feeling?” I texted.

He seemed fine, had a whole text conversation with me and even said it was okay we lost the game because he’s a fan of adversity. I asked his thoughts on a booty call in about 45 minutes. He texted, “Come over. Please.” I set my maps to his place, told him I’d like to take a quick shower at his place and headed that way.

People.

Dude was high AF and drunk. He said he’d smoked twice and had nine beers. He got in the shower with me. I didn’t even have time to wash the parts I wanted to wash.

Okay it was good skin-on-skin time. Great kissing. But the beers had affected him to where none o’ that good penetration was gonna happen. We fooled around for two hours and I needed to go. He didn’t want me to go. He wasn’t mean or forceful, just you know pressing me to stay. “All you have to say is get off me; I have to go,” he said. So I did. Finally. 2 1/2 hours.

As I reflected the next few days I thought through the whole thing because I was kind of angry. A little at him. But more at myself.

I have to change the pattern where I put dudes before myself. It’s fine to put my friends and family before myself (not always I guess) but at this point with no relationship and just booty calls I must always put my feelings first FOR MYSELF. This is hard for me. I’ve trained myself to live on what is available for years (in my 28-year-marriage mostly). The Judeo-Christian philosophy of being last is best is soaked into me. So with the men in my life I automatically do that because that’s what I do, everywhere. Work, family, friends- I will think, “Do I have to have this?” and it’s almost always no.

You see and I’m beginning to see at fucking age goddamn fucking 54 (goddamnit!) that this does not make a good basis for a relationship. Also the world is not going to fucking fall apart if I use my voice to ask for what I need and yes just what I want.

Okay.

Remember this lesson. (This is to me, but also to you if you are also learning to use your voice.)

Photo by Alex Knight on Pexels.com

2 thoughts on “9 Beers Does Not a Good Booty Call Make

  1. Well I am so excited to have discovered you, via a recommendation from another wonderful blog I follow (Back in Stilettos Again). I am loving your style and intrigued to know more! I will be reading lots to find out your story up to now!

    Like

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