7 rules: A Cautionary Tale

     There are rules to this you know. Rules made by asshole ex's and the angriest girls. Rules that are born in between wet red faces and damp pillows. Never again we say. Never Again.

     I hate the term "booty call". It cheapen it. This is how I look at it, there are people in this world who lay in bed, stare up at their ceilings, and make the decision: I'm not spending tonight alone. People who take control of their hormones, or loneliness, or just feel like fucking someone.
*Note: I'm not referring to a one night stand. I'm talking about a series of one night stands. Nights of spontaneous sex that keep reoccurring with one other person. No strings attached.

     It doesn't matter the reason why we do it. Some of us just have too much personality, too much love, you have to find someone to rub it off on to...into...and some carry too much trauma and are looking for a legitimate distraction. What's more distracting than sticking your dick into something?

     Rule One: Get something out of it. Don't venture into something you're not coming out a little bit more profited by. I'm serious, don't do it for the other person. They're not doing it for you. You'll lose and with stakes like these you'd be an idiot to gamble.

"You want to maybe come over tonight. I know it's late."

                                 "Of course" I say

"Just a heads up, I might just want to go to bed, I'm down to fuck, but I might just want to sleep"

                                    "That works" I say

     Rule Two: Keep a distance, The closer you get to the trainwreck,the uglier it gets. The messier it becomes. Sit tight in your recliner and just watch vicariously on your TV set. You can admire, but you won't feel it. You'll stay in awe, you won't go into shock, don't attach yourself to something disastrous. 

Standing there, watching him soak in beats and bass, watching him translate it through limbs, shoulders, hips and smile, I know I'm fucked.

I'm such a sucker for boys who can dance.

     Rule Three: Both of you have to be on the same page. It's not a relationship, it can be void of trust and communication. But at some point, you're going to have to say "I'm here, where are you?"

December:

"I don't want you thinking this is like a thing. I don't want to date you" he says

"Oh please honey, that's not who I am. I'm already someone's girlfriend. It's a mutual thing. I'm using you. I'm only choosing you because you're putting out. I don't care why you're choosing me, I just want you tonight" I say

July:

She asks: "Do you still feel that way?"

I answer: "I kind of have to. But no, I haven't for awhile."

     Rule Five: Don't do this with someone you're not willing to drop in a heart beat. Don't pick friends. In the end, when it ends, you're left without the inexpensive sex AND the shoulder to cry on. It's never worth it.

Sitting on the couch, watching TV with him, and I realize I feel on edge. I couldn't sit still, couldn't be comfortable. Then it hits me. I'm waiting for him to make a move. I've driven all the way over here, I reapplied my make up, my ass is hanging out of these shorts and damnit he's just sitting there, totally respecting me.

That's when it becomes clear, I'm that douche guy I'm always complaining about. The dude who can't just watch a movie with me. Cock bag. I'm supposed to be your friend. Just chill, enjoy my company or get the fuck out. I'm such a hypocrite. 

And then...dun dun dun, the big reveal: I'm not seeing him as a piece, he's becoming my friend.

     Rule Six: Don't attempt this if you don't have the stomach for it.

Sitting here, his head's on my lap and I'm running my fingers through his blonde hair. I know I'm breaking rule number seven. Right here, I know, I'm messing all this up.