A few weeks ago I wrote a Direct Game field report that many of you seemed to dig. If you haven’t read it yet, click here.
A more accurate title for this post would have been, My Day 2 F-Close, but I wanted you guys to be able to quickly associate one with the other.
I was driving over to our group-apartment-hang-out-place to do some homework (everyone was out of town so I had the place to myself). As usual I had a ridiculous amount but decided to call Chelsea and her friends to see if they wanted to play some Nintendo and help me procrastinate. They did, but she and Nikki had to shower first. I said sure whatever, that I was going to get something to eat and they should let me know when they were done with their group shower. I’m kind of broke at the moment so I called another girl (Kara) and told her to make me a sandwich. “Okay.” I head on over to eat my sandwich.
Kara is there with her boyfriend and some other chick I don’t know. Shawna’s there, and that’s all that really matters. The second I saw her you can imagine what I did.
Me: “Okay, Shawna. You know the drill.”
I grab her hand and start pulling her towards the bedroom.
Shawna: “What?? No!!!”
But this time she’s playing too. She sits down and I’m dragging her on her ass towards the bedroom door. We get in there and hear everyone laughing in the living room. I’m kind of confused. After all, I was just joking around. She seems calm. Excited, but calm. I remember my sandwich.
Me: “Wait a second. Where the f*ck’s my damn sandwich?”
We go back out to the living room and I see Kara making me a PB and J in the kitchen.
Me: “Woah, Girl. You got way too much J on my PB.”
Kara: “Do you want to make your own damn sandwich?”
Me: “No, I’m just going to take some of the jelly off when you’re done.”
When she hands it to me that’s exactly what I do. I take a bite. It’s decent. Not fantastic, but decent. I b*tch about it anyway. That’s just what I like to do. It’s fun. And funny.
Me: “This sandwich sucks.” *Kara hits me*
Me: “Shawna, make me another sandwich.”
I laugh and tell her I’m just messing with her. We play back and forth.
This other chick (I can’t remember her name. Not that it matters. I change all their names out of respect for them anyway) has a date and Brandon (Kara’s boyfriend) needs to drive her to home or something like that. When he gets back Kara mentions that she left her bra at his place, so they decide to go over there for a bit.
All this is on the surface. Here’s the finer things that need noted:
Shawna’s been drinking. They’ve all had wine, but she’s probably had three glasses since I’ve been there. Everyone else has had one (minus me. I don’t drink, remember?). She’s a shy girl. Shy girls need excuses. She's fine, and I wouldn't do anything with her if she wasn't, but if she needs an excuse for herself that's okay with me.
Kara probably left her bra over at Brandon’s, but they want alone time and she’s not coming back tonight. She’s also looking out for her girl and making sure she doesn’t p*ssy punt (female cock block).
Shawna had asked Kara for quarters because she needed to do laundry. She didn’t have any but I offered because I had a ton of change in my backpack (which was in the car) that I planned on taking to the bank tomorrow. I hadn’t gone out to the car yet for a reason: logistics.
I get up to leave with Brandon and Kara. Why? Because if I stay there everyone feels the weight of the sexual undertone. But I’m not leaving. I’m going to my car to get Shawna quarters. While we’re outside, Kara says to me, “At least try to kiss her, okay?”
I go back inside and she keeps offering to do things for me as thanks.
Me: “Do you always try to reciprocate when guys do things for you? I’m not helping you with your laundry because I want something from you; I’m doing it because it’s the right thing. You don’t owe me anything, so stop.”
Shawna: “You’re a nice guy.”
Me: “Don’t tell anyone ”
Shawna: “Why not?”
Me: “Because they’ll get expectations.”
Shawna: “But you are.”
Me: (I explain the nice guy complex) “Nice guys feel a sense of entitlement because they’re nice. They think, ‘If I’m nice to this girl and she treats me like sh*t, I’m vindicated.’ I DESERVE better. I am ENTITLED to more. But they aren’t. The truth is she doesn’t owe you anything, so quit your b*tching and play some more WOW.”
Shawna: “I’ve never thought of it that way.”
[Note: By now I can tell that I won’t be seeing Chelsea & friends tonight. I text her and say that I’m at a friend’s and will let her know when I’m done… which of course I won’t be.]
For the next half hour I get drilled about PU. How many booty calls do you have? Don’t you think it’s unethical? How many girls have you slept with? Don’t you worry about hurting people? I answer everything honestly and she’s impressed.
Shawna: “I should get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow morning.”
Me: “That’s cool. I actually have some friends I’m meeting up with yet.”
Shawna: “What?! Who are you going to ‘hang out’ with after midnight?!?” [You know what she means]
Shawna: “GirlSSSSSSSSS?????? ?????????”
Me: “Yeah, girls.”
It’s not a false time constraint. It’s a Real Time Constraint. I’m a busy guy. I’ve got sh*t to do. People want me.
She changes the subject. We talk for another 15 minutes before she brings up sleep again. I kiss her.
Within 30 seconds she’s straddling me.
Me: “I thought it was time for you to go to bed.”
I kiss her more then pick her up and carry her to bed. We do stuff. I go for the clothes. She stops me. LMR
Me: “We should slow down.”
We did more stuff, but I couldn’t get it up (read this). I pleased her enough that she didn’t care. Later I did, and the rest I’d like to keep between her and me.
Here’s the synopsis that I want to drive home:
I created everything. The reality I created is the reality she perceived, and in that reality we were sexually comfortable with each other from the start. Anything that could have been a problem didn’t exist, and it’s because it didn’t exist that it wasn’t a problem. Never falter in your frame. It takes superior thought, but you’re a superior man.
And then I got her number.