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Real dates. Real disasters. |
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Mormon Dry-Humper by Laura O. (21, F, Salt Lake City, UT) "Apparently, I’m kind of a whore. Wait. Let me back up a bit. I’ll tell you how my night just ended. It ended with my Mormon coworker who is 11 months my junior asking me; “Next time, can we not let it get as inappropriate?” That’s just what I wanted to hear after spending like ten and a half hours with this guy. My question is not how did it end that way, but how did I end up on a date with a guy who spells awesome a-w-s-o-m-e in the first place? I’ll tell you - it’s ‘cause that sneaky little shit TRICKED me!! Okay, here’s the first lesson I learned: if anyone asks you what you’re doing tomorrow, tell them “I’m busy. I’m jam-packed. I am booooked.” Because if you say “I’m doin’ a whole lotta nothin’” they are then able to claim your entire day. And that’s what he did, and only after we had sat down to watch the movie we were seeing (The Losers - which is actually a pretty awesome show), did he tell me it was his birthday. His 20th birthday. You know, if you’re bringing someone along for your happy birthday ride, at least tell them in advance. Otherwise they’re going to end up feeling all sorts of pressure to perform. But I wasn’t in over my head. In fact, it was the very opposite. Now I’ve discovered that I’m the one who is older and wiser, and I’m the one who knows what the hell they’re doing. Having never been in this position before, I am unable to utilize my newfound skills and instead feel like even more of a retard. He now becomes the one in over his head, and I now feel responsible for… everything. So, we go to lunch. He starts talking about this being our first date. I’m so nervous all I can eat is like two sevenths of my turkey sandwich and four of my fries. Then we go to the mall. Somehow we end up holding hands and putting our arms around each others’ waists and stuff. Let’s face it; I’m bored, lonely, and in dire need of human contact. I won’t always be this way, but I’m going on four and a half months now without having a guy try to cop a feel. I know, it’s sad business. So, kisses on cheeks ensue as we continue to get more lovey-dovey. Whatever. We’re so smitten with each other, I invite him back to my house to watch a movie, because I guess spending five hours together wasn’t enough. We go home, I woo him with my artwork and my guitar-playing and my singing, and my guarded vulnerability appeals even more to him. It’s funny - I was always the one to be wooed by artwork and guitar-playing and singing, but not this time. Not this time. We get talking and he tells me about how he’s saving up for his mission - he’ll probably get his new assignment in six months or so. I was turned off by this, because that meant he was Mormon. He had many a time misled me with his curse words, which originally led me to believe he was more of a bad ass. I was turned off, but on the other hand, I became aware of the fact that our relationship would have to be short-lived. Because God intended it to be. We go into my room to cuddle on my bed - which I must first tell you - was his idea. That was HIS idea. I was perfectly content to sit on the couch and watch The Office on my laptop, but no. He chose Troy - possibly the longest movie ever - and plopped himself down on my pillows. Remember, I’m needy and horny, so cuddling sounds like the funnest thing in the world at this point. Ten minutes in he makes some crack about getting snacks or something, so we stand up. He lands one on me and we start making out. Troy is boring, anyway. (Except for the scenes where Brad Pitt is naked. Of course.) Again I say, I’m lonely and bored and needy and horny, so I roll with it. I’m not sure how long we made out for, but it was kind of long. I’m guessing at least an hour. That’s kind of a really long hour when all you’re doing is kissing. I was getting kind of bored, but I was also sort of entertained by how into it he was. I know that sounds just downright evil, but it’s true. He was feeling my boobs and my ass, his duty to God the only thing keeping him from date-raping me. Compared to my previous lovers, he was really quite gentlemanly - which in this case, was a total turn-off. I guess I’m just used to the loser douche-bag type of guys who don’t care about you, so they just take what they want from you and don’t flower it up or say cute things. So when he started saying nice things like “I want to kiss you” and “I want you closer to me”, it was almost too much. Too cheesy, too much. If you want me closer, start dry-humping my leg, please. That will get the message across. (Just kidding about that last part. Except not.) Finally I’m just like “dude, I’m turning Troy back on.” We continued to cuddle as we watched the endless battle scenes, and he nearly strangled me from behind, so intense was his cuddling. I felt kind of like a guy, because I felt like I’d got my fill and was now trying to figure out to get her to leave. Him, I mean. The end of the movie comes, and he’s like “are things going to be weird at work tomorrow?” Seriously, I said those very words once. That was back when I was dating that pot-head at the senior living place. I try not to sound like an ass-hole and assure him, “No, things won’t be weird.” He then goes on to basically solidify his role as my friend - he still wants to make out with me, but he also wants to be my best friend. I agree to this, because at least he’s not asking me to be his boyfriend. That would have been mucho awkward. Then he seriously says this: “Next time we do this, can we make sure it doesn’t get so… inappropriate?” … Nothing happened, people. Seriously. We made out and he practically ate my ear and he admired my female form. Sure, he felt my boobs - OVER MY CLOTHES. It was all over the clothes, people, and I let it get too inappropriate? I then become the evil-doer, for not feeling like a whore. So now I have to go to work tomorrow and not allow him to flirt with me, simply out of professionalism. Basically, I have to be the bitch. And it’s all my responsibility because I’m older, wiser, and know what the hell I’m doing. Seriously, if you know any intelligent, less-than-virtuous but still good guys in the 22-25 age range, I would greatly appreciate any help. But until then, I've learned the following lessons: 1. Don't date a guy who is younger than you. 2. Don't date Mormon boys. 3. Don't date your co-workers. 4. Seriously, don't date your co-workers. P.S. He's read every book in the Twilight series twice, so he's probably gay, too. 5. Don't date gay guys. (Unless you are one, of course.)"
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