So I’ve just taken this girl on an epic date, and we go back to my house. I introduce her to my pet snake in my living room, and after teasing her for being sadistic when she asks me to feed it a mouse, we start making out. I move her to the couch and we make out for a while there, and then I say, “Let’s go back to my bed and make out like teenagers.” So she comes back to my room, and we’re just eating each other’s faces so I know its on. But then, when I start fiddling with the button on her jeans and it takes me a second, she swats my hand away. We keep making out, and I pretend nothing’s happened. I let her straddle me for a while, and then I try again, and this time she whispers “no.” She says it so quietly that I can barely hear it, and I sense that is the point. She doesn’t want to kill the mood, but she doesn’t want to have sex. What does she want to do? Keep making out here until my erection just disappears. Keep rubbing the denim where her pussy should be until she has a half orgasm? So I whisper in her ear the obvious: “I want to fuck you.” Stress the hard C in the word fuck to turn her on. “I can’t.” “What do you mean you can’t?” I say.
“I don’t know. It’s like you’ve hijacked my mind,” she says, and I’m thinking, what the fuck does that mean? “Like, you’ve been so sweet and perfect to me all night, and like, you’re just so fucking cool, and I just don’t understand why. Like, why me?” Now what are you supposed to say to this? Because of the fifty girls I’ve opened this week, and of the twenty that gave me their numbers, and of the five that did not flake, you were the only one where all of the cards fell into place, where the time was right for both of us, where the chemistry was right, for some reason or another. But can I say that? Fuck no. A girl does not want to see herself and your mutual attraction as the manifestation of a statistical likelihood. She sees “meant to be” as something less probabilistic, perhaps.
Anyway, I blasted this girl with several shotgun blasts of compliments and reasons why she was special and why I liked her, and while they were tailored toward her specifically, and they were genuine compliments, somehow it still felt like I was lying to her. Or maybe not lying. I just wasn’t being real with her, and the beautiful ball of energy that we were passing between us all day, and the comfortable, fun, couply vibe we had been cultivating all day just kindof evaporated.
For the longest time, this kind of thing kept happening. Like, not necessarily the same language about hijacking her brain, but the same jist. That all the sudden, right before what a girl perceives as the point of no return for having sex, she has this moment of panic. I always figure it’s a biological response brought about by the increased stakes sex poses for a girl, and the reason I say its biological is that she often does not exactly know why she has this funny feeling. Maybe all the sudden she doesn’t think you are her type, or she suddenly thinks you have manipulated her. So what do you do when this response gets triggered? Well, you can start trying to rationally talk through it and convince her, or you can keep trying to game her; but the former will probably confuse her more than it convinces her, and latter will make her think you can’t be real with her. Many times these tactics work to get you laid, but they invalidate any genuine connection you’ve forged with the girl. Whether or not you fuck her, you’re bridge is burned, and she will think you’re an asshole. It’s for you to decide whether you’re okay with that. There’s also ways were you can have an honest conversation about your mutual expectations, but usually those usually lead you into a position where you a whipped, spooning her with a raging stiffy that she happily ignores and you begrudgingly ignore in misguided hopes of getting it wet after your next date, which will probably suck, you clingy fuck. The best way to manage this last minute resistance is to prevent it. Think about the last time you heard unexpected news, good or bad, that will drastically alter your life: a homeless man just gave you a winning lottery ticket and then disappeared into the crowd; your mother has been hit by a train and died. Its hard to fathom things we have always dreaded or dreamed when they blindside us. There’s no catharsis in the event. Only in coming to terms with it.
Likewise, you only want to be larger than life long enough to get her attention. You want to spend the rest of the time convincing her you’re human.