Are You DTF?

Alright, so here’s the deal: We’ve all done something we are not proud of. Whether it’s stealing $5 from your mom’s purse or simply telling your friend that she definitely looked good in that neon orange shirt she wore on her date last weekend when she clearly did not. Either way, it’s a low point. And those low points can either make for huge regrets later down the road, or hilarious anecdotes shared over drinks. Fortunately, this story falls on the latter side of the spectrum.

So a little background: I went through this phase where I was not feeling the whole “relationship” thing. I was using dating apps and jumping around from guy to guy. Some of them had substance, some of them didn’t. Sometimes we would have one date, sometimes we would hang out for a few weeks, but it was never something that ended up sticking. While outwardly I was saying that I really wanted to meet someone worth dating, on the inside I was doing some emotional healing. While I enjoyed meeting new people and getting to know some of them, in the back of my head I really wanted to explore the sexual side of me. I never did anything too crazy, but I became more comfortable with my sexuality. However, there was one thing that I had been wanting to try but never had the guts to do: a one-night stand. Now, to be clear here, I am not good at flirting or being overtly sexual unless in a comedic way. I’m just not wired like that (props to you if you are). I get very awkward and nervous when it comes to interacting with the opposite sex. I’m not very “suave” so I wasn’t too sure I’d be able to pull it off. That’s where the dating apps came into play. I didn’t need to be “suave”. I just needed to look good. So I downloaded an app specifically for hook ups called “Wild”. And that, my friends, is where our story begins…

It didn’t take very long to find someone. (But let’s be honest, what do you think would happen if a young woman posts photos of herself doing yoga and writes, “Just looking for some fun. Down To Fuck” in her bio? I’m surprised the internet didn’t crash.) I was only using the app for about a day when he messaged me and we immediately set a date and time to rendezvous. The app said he was only 20 miles away which, to me, is not very far since I commuted that mush to school before. I thought it was perfect. Since we both worked, we weren’t meeting for a few days. This gave us plenty of time for coy texts and teasing photos. As they day got closer and closer I became more nervous. But I pushed it away and told myself that I was just overthinking it. I’m such a worry-wart anyways. Plus, I knew that if I didn’t go through with it I would hate myself and end up starting all over again. And since I’m more lazy than I am nervous, that was a sheer no. Fast forward to the night of our meet up.

I was getting ready to head to his place. I had already sent my friend his photo, description, and address (gotta be safe, ya know?), put on a cute outfit, shaved (EVERYTHING), and even washed my hair. I texted my hook up and asked for his address. When I looked up his address, I did a double take…he was further away than I thought he was. He was almost 40 miles away from me! Now at this point, what would any sane, emotionally stable, logical person do? Definitely not drive a total distance of 80 miles just for a one night stand. So I think we all know what I did… I hopped in my car, put on a podcast, and drove a total distance of 80 miles for a one night stand. And the story doesn’t end there.

Upon arriving at the address, I was greeted by my knight-in-shining-armor and the scent of stale cigarettes. He wanted to make sure he met me out on the street because, apparently, he needed to SNEAK ME UP THE STAIRS. Turns out he was renting a room from his friend’s parents and didn’t key them in on his agenda for the evening. Fantastic. So right before we go inside he tells me to run straight up the stairs and go into the last room all the way down the hall. And I do just that. Only when I turned the light on…something was off. I must have walked through the wrong door, I thought. Because all I saw in that entire room was a TV on the floor, a pile of blankets, and a box of clothes. No bed, no bed frame, not even a mattress. I was about to poke my head out the door when he came in behind me and said, with great pride, “So this is my room! Sorry about not having a bed. Just moved in and I’m getting one tomorrow”. I just stared at him. Then tell me to come over tomorrow dumbass, I thought angrily.

I was just…so unsure of what to do. He, however, decided he should put a movie on to mask the sounds of the sex. So I stood there awkwardly, regretting every moment, while he fiddled with his DVD player for a good fifteen minutes while, every so often, throwing a complement my way to "set the mood". Now, you guys are probably wondering why I didn’t high-tail it and run. To which I answer: I shaved…everything. And I’m also incredibly stubborn. Eventually we got the ball rolling. And you guessed it! We had sex on the floor of his room while Planet of the Apes was blasting in the background. I’ll spare you guys the details but I will say this: To this day, the most awkward, uncomfortable, and unsatisfying sexual experience I have ever had. No hard feelings, but I was just floored by how the events played out. (Haha. Get it? Floored? Well, I thought it was funny…) And what’s the lesson here you ask? If you’re going to invite someone over for sex, make sure, at the very least, you have a mattress.