Monday, Mar. 20, 2006
Oops, I Did It Again?
Boy, do I suck at self-control.
Saturday night was supposed to end with me going home, getting ready for work the next day, and falling asleep.
It didn't end that way.
Technically, Saturday night didn't end at all.
Most likely because I like sex. Anyone who has read me over the years know that 1) sex is still new to me, and 2) I have nympho tendencies.
So the Teacher and I went out for a basketball and dessert afterward on Saturday. Good, clean, wholesome family fun. Being that he lives a good 45 minutes away from me (and that I still don't own a vehicle) I opted to meet him at the subway station closest to the arena, and he picked me up and drove us over to the game. I assumed my trip home would be the same deal -- drop me off, and I'd take the train home. Looking back, it's pretty obvious he had other plans.
"So how do I get to your part of town from here?"
"You're taking me home?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." How considerate, I naively thought.
On the way to my house, he says he needs to stop by a 7-Eleven. "Oh, there's one near my place," I say.
"In walking distance?"
Huh? Was he gonna stop at the 7-Eleven and I'd have to walk home from there? This wasn't making sense, but whatever. "Yeah," I answer.
We drive past the 7-Eleven and I decide not to ask why he didn't stop. (Being that he's not my boyfriend, I decided a while ago not to barrage him with questions or comments about what he says or does. Why would I care anyway?)
He pulls in front of my house. As I open the door and "Good night" is forming at my lips, he turns off the car. "I'll be there in a minute," he says.
Huh? Did he just invite himself to my apartment?
"Uh... okay."
Part of the reason I get into these funny little situations is because I'm still too nice. Too nice to say no. To nice to quip, "I didn't invite you in."
The other reason why I get into these situations is because subconsciously, I want to.
"Vicki always puts herself in these situations," Jazz said a while back, "thinking she's gonna write a novel out of it."
The sad part is that she realized it before I did.
Anyway, he comes back to the apartment, curiously void of any plastic bags from 7-Eleven. Again, I say nothing.
And then we watch TV, joke, lay down to "go to sleep" (really, my plan was to go sleep since I had to work Sunday morning), and have sex. And then have sex again a little later.
Not only do I suck at self-control, but I also suck at discerning other people's ploys.
I really thought he was just being nice when he took me home.
Oops.