The Sh*tter Guy

I adopted a motto a while back, and the motto is this: ‘Drink til….” The blank can be filled in with basically anything. Examples for me have been: drink til he’s cute, drink til he’s not annoying, drink til his jokes are funny. I was using this motto and trying to ‘drink til’ the boring party I was at became fun. I was at the party one night with some friends, waiting for them to feel ready to leave since we all drove together, and so far the vodka wasn’t really helping. There was a poker game that a few guys were playing and since I grew up playing poker with my brothers I figured why not join in. I played a few hands and did fairly well except there was one guy who kept beating us all. Turns out he happened to be a professional poker player which I thought was entirely unfair and I told him as much. He seemed amused by me and came up to me after the game. He introduced himself properly and told me his name was James and he apologized for beating me at Poker. He said he’d like to make it up to me and use the money he’d won to take me out to dinner the following evening. James seemed very confident, and he had pretty blue eyes with a decent looking face. He walked with sort of an odd waddle and needed to lose about 20 pounds, but he did seem like a nice guy so I agreed to dinner.

We began seeing each other fairly often after that, and he was a total gentleman, taking me out on great dates. He also wasn’t being too pushy about getting down my pants right away which I appreciated. I wasn’t falling for him by any means, I was more indifferent than anything. I think I only kept going out with him because it was so convenient and nothing was apparently wrong or negative. That is until the night I decided that I’d made him wait long enough for sex. I figured he’d been a total gentleman, and it was time to either sleep with him or break it off. I wasn’t quite ready for the latter yet, plus it had been quite a while since I’d had sex. I also figured since he seemed so into me that he’d definitely be a pleaser in bed as well. Oh how very wrong I was. That night after we got back to his place he poured some wine and we talked a bit before he started kissing me on his couch. Then he asked if I wanted to move this to the bedroom, so I nodded and we went to his bed. I waited for the foreplay to begin but the next thing I knew he was putting on a condom and we were having sex. What went through my mind was, is this guy for real? Has he been with a girl before? You don’t just jump that quickly to the sex and if you do it better be damn good. Just when I was about finished thinking these irritating thoughts, he was about finished having sex. He seemed satisfied and content while I was completely unsatisfied and pissed off. The worst part is as much as I wanted to leave and go home right then, I’d been drinking so I was forced to spend the night. He tried to cuddle with me while I rolled away from him as far as possible and tried to sleep. He had an early flight to catch the next morning, and I awoke with him trying to rub up against my leg like a dog. I ignored these sad attempts at sex and pretended I was still asleep. I even threw in a couple of light snores to make it seem extra believable. When I realized he clearly wasn’t giving up I asked him what time it was and pointed out that he’d better get in the shower before he missed his flight. He agreed, thank God, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I heard the shower running for a while and figured I’d better grab my clothes and get dressed so he didn’t try anything else when he came out. I reached over the end of the bed and was looking for my shirt when I glanced to my left and noticed he had the bathroom door about halfway open. Then I noticed something else, his feet. Oh….my….God. He wasn’t showering this whole time, he was taking a shit! And with the door halfway open, did this man have any shame?! I threw on my clothes as fast as possible and was about to open the door to leave when he called my name. He was standing behind me with a towel on looking confused. I told him I’d just remembered I was meeting a friend for breakfast and I was late, but to have a great trip. He told me he’d talk to me when he got back, and I thought to myself, actually you won’t, but you’ll find that out soon enough. He tried to kiss me goodbye and I awkwardly turned my head and yelled bye while running out the door. He tried calling a few times when he got back from his trip and eventually gave up after I didn’t respond. That was the end of dating for mere convenience for me, and as for waiting around until the problems presented themselves, I had decided it was time to either shit or get off the pot…pun intended.