I served myself on a platter and I still didn't get laid

How I served myself on a platter, didn’t get laid, and became aware of my own toxic behavior

I served myself on a platter. I DM’ed him on social media and said, “Come out and play.” Just plain and simple, I didn’t even think about it twice. I was sitting at a restaurant eating pho with my best friend, sick as a dog, and I was only in town for one more day. Prior to clicking ‘send’, I had been debating on how to ask him to hang out without appearing too desperate. A part of me was feeling spicy thinking about the thrill of the chase, and another part was also feeling very much like an adolescent child knocking at your neighbor’s house asking if they could come out to play. So that’s what I did, I typed out, “Come out and play.”

It wasn’t until after I had sent the message that I felt like an idiot for dangling my cherry right in front of him like that, great… The message had already gone all the way into space and right back and had probably already notified him that he had a new message. “Jay has sent you a direct message.” Oh no, oh no… With steam hitting my face, the only good news here was that my pho had arrived at my table and it was soothing all the right places in my body that had succumbed to my sickness, something I was secretly hoping this guy would do to all those other places too, if you know what I mean. I opened his direct message and it read, “When?” Umm, okay, ladies, if a man responds with a one-word reply do you even bother continuing to talk to this unsocialized creature? Clearly, they lack education, which is a huge red flag, it’s as if they responded with, “k.” I spiraled so fast into different realities that it made me dizzy. Or was I just feeling that way because I was sick, and more than likely dehydrated? Ugh, his response made me cringe, he asked when, so now this meant I was supposed to reply with an answer, one I was not prepared for at all. It started to sink in, did he think I sounded like a floozy? Oh my god, Oh My God, OH MY GOD!!

What started as something purely innocent and genuine, was a live grenade in somebody else’s inbox, and I was intrigued enough to fuck around and find out. Hell, if it was already out there holding space, what kind of person would I be to deny it of its destiny? Boy, am I dramatic or what? Curious is more like it. Let’s cut to the chase, I ended up telling him, “I’ll pick you up at 7 and I’ll take you to my favorite place.” He agreed. Relief. Gah! I was so excited to show him one of my favorite places, but even more elated with how forward I was, and proud of myself for the mere fact that when you want something, all you have to do is reach out and let yourself have it.

I refused to tell his guy, who apparently has 3 names on his birth certificate, where I was taking him, but my god, he wouldn’t stop staring at me when he got in the car. I was starting to get anxious, thinking, “his eyes are going to pop out of his head if he keeps staring at you like that.” “You smell like smoke, were you smoking? Wait, are you a smoker?” Yikes, that’s another red flag. Okay, I’m sensing a pattern…

I ended up finding out he was indeed a smoker, but he was “trying to quit”. Yeah... sure, you work on that, I thought. We arrived at one of my favorite Tiki bars in town, and we ordered a Scorpion Bowl. Oh yes, my friends, we did. Gin, 3 different types of rum, and vodka. We talked about our art and what drove us to create. This, the same guy who began the night with 2 red flags, had made me realize that he was all heart, and the only thing was that we didn’t speak the same mating language if you will. I was very much used to the STOMP! STOMP! “I AM MAN!” type of mating ritual, where the peacock shows his tail full of the brightest colors, but this was different, and definitely very intriguing, my cup of tea. We ordered more drinks and found ourselves joining a Janga party when we opened the secret door of a phone booth. The party of new friends we met that night named us Cali and Tennessee. We were both a little timid and a familiar energy oozed in the air as we shot each other heart eyes throughout the night. This was the last thing I remember about the bar.

I woke up in a pitch-black room. Not a single light in sight and I didn’t see any windows either. I immediately started to panic, I didn’t know where my phone was and I couldn’t see a thing in front of me. I spoke out into the darkness before me and in response, I heard a silent groan that said, “Hey, I’m here.” I found my phone on the mattress I was lying on, turned on the flashlight, and pointed in the direction of his voice. He was lying down on some kind of cushion on the floor in a corner of the room. I was confused. I was tucked in with a blanket and my clothes were still on and my shoes were on the floor. This dude who I had known less than 24 hours said he brought me to his place because there was no way I was driving home in the condition I was in when we left the bar. I was still so perplexed by the fact he hadn’t thrown himself all over me.

Looking back, I realized I was used to dating assholes and people who didn’t respect boundaries, and here was someone who didn’t even try to take advantage of me. What was this? Was this what respect and decency look like manifested in man? Clearly, I didn’t know what it looked like or sounded like. I only understood it was a new concept I’d never been introduced to prior to this exchange.

My parents never had a sex talk with me so the only way I learned about sex was through the things I heard my friends talk about in school, and from every boy who ever dared push my boundaries. Maybe chivalry really isn’t just in the movies, huh? I want to say in retrospect, these behaviors taught me to believe that men only show interest in you when they step right over a boundary, not knowing that every time will play out differently than the last. This is when I began to connect the dots and became aware of experiencing the same type of situations that left traumatic imprints in me, which in turn, have manifested into disregarding my own body, time and time again, treating it like a disposable item. At the time I didn’t understand there was a fine line between disregarding your body and taking control of your body, and allowing desire and pleasure to exist and engulf my world was all I was seeking. The duality in my nature kept confessing silent whimpers yearning for human contact. Disappointingly, he walked me to my car after having tucked me into bed and here I was, going back home to my own clean sheets and the will to multiply tucked right back into my jeans.