Tell the Truth - I See Through Your Bullshit

To quote "House", everybody lies. Simply put, lying is a truism of our society. That much is obvious. We all lie, every day, to someone, about something. That's not a mystery, not confusing, not even shocking. What is a bit confusing, though, is why people claim not to want something, when actually that something is what they are after. Take women, for example. You know what I love to hear from a woman I just met? Answer: "We're not going to have sex tonight", or "I can't sleep with you tonight", or something along those lines. Never once has that phrase been accurate. There have been plenty of times I have met women, and not ended up sleeping with them that night - or ever - but I can't think of a single time that a woman I just met told me, unsolicited, that she wasn't going to sleep with me, and then I didn't actually get to fuck her that same night. Actually, upon reflection there was ONE time this happened, but we still ended up doing everything except sex, and there were also a couple of other things going on with the girl. But that trainwreck rates a story all of her own, and in any event, she still ended up doing things she claimed not to want. I mean, why not just be honest, or shut the fuck up? Either be up front about wanting to get laid, or don't say anything at all, and let events unfold naturally. Why play games? It's not as if your friends are there to see you, judge you, and think that you're a whore. It's just the two of us. It's not as if most guys are going to judge you - you met them in a bar, you're both getting drunk - do you NOT know how this story ends? Even if you're a honest-to-God-fucking-VIRGIN, you have no excuse.

This was my theory before, and to an extent, still is. What I've learned, though, is that sometimes there's another hidden meaning behind that phrase...

Summer 2008

For a brief month or two in early Summer of 2008, I was quasi-dating - by which I mean fucking with no intention of actually dating - a girl I'd met at a bar. For the first several weeks I knew her, we had no actual dates, unless meeting at a bar to get drunk, followed by going back to her place, counts as a date. But really - she met me at a bar, while we were both drunk, and took me home that same night. Then, she gave me her number the next morning, picked up the phone when I called her, then agreed to meet me at the same bar at which we initially met. Just exactly what did she think was going to happen? Flowers-and-fucking-miniature-golf?

Anyway, after a few weeks of this, she started to bug me about going out on an actual date. Oddly enough, she seemed to actually like me, and I have no idea why. Well, actually I do, and it goes back to the earlier point about women saying they want one thing and actually wanting another, but I digress. In any case, I decided what the hell, if the only practical cost of 5 weeks of sex is one date, I guess I can oblige her. We decided to meet after work downtown at Alamo Drafthouse for a movie, followed by a wine bar. Yeah, yeah, very romantic, very date-ish, blah blah blah - SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I made it downtown a little early - around 4pm or so, intending to hit an early happy hour at Paradise on 6th St. The place is a bit pricey compared to some of the other spots downtown, but the douchebag quotient is usually pretty low, too, which is worth a couple of extra bucks. About an hour later, this girl fucked up. She called me with some excuse to cancel. To this day, I have no idea if she was playing games with me, or if something actually legitimate came up, but I don't care. As some of you know, with my recent date cancellation experience with a girl I met at the pool, I have a policy regarding whores canceling dates. You see, when the sole reason for the date is their incessant whining, it's one strike and they're out. While I might talk to her again, and will certainly, should the opportunity arise, sleep with her again, I'm absolutely, positively, not setting up another date. I didn't want to go on one anyway, and if she cancels, then either she's trying to jerk me around, or the date isn't that important to her. The problem for her is, I make a shitty puppet, and it's not that important to me anyway. So, when she called to cancel, I was done.

Well, done with her. I wasn't done with my night. Dammit, I went all the way downtown, which for the past couple of years I've been kinda burned out on, but now that I was there, I was going to have a good time. I started drinking a little more aggressively, hitting a few more bars. I called couple of friends, who wanted me to meet them later that night at a bar. By this time, it was around 8pm, and I had a couple hours to kill before my friends came out, so I bar-hopped around until I ended up at BD Riley's, an Irish pub near 6th and Brazos. As it turned out, Wednesday night was trivia night at this bar, and there was a cash prize of $100 for the winner. Apparently, this was something of a major crowd draw for the place, because there must have been about 20 teams of people in there, with anywhere between 2-8 people per team. The bar was absolutely fucking packed.

I decided to play, since I do love trivia and am generally pretty good at it. I shit you not, if you don't believe me on this, we can pull out Trivial Pursuit cards and play for shots. After about 20 minutes on my own, a woman walked in by herself, and sat down at the bar right next to me - it was the only open seat. She seemed highly attractive, which in my drunken state meant that she could have ranged from digusting wildebeast to actually fuckable. Thankfully, the latter seemed to be the case, because throughout the night, guys kept checking her out. Obviously, I invited her to join my trivia "team". She claimed to love trivia and was excited about playing, so we started hitting it off between trivia questions. After doing a couple of shots, I established that she was in town by herself, from New York, for a convention, and she had never been to Austin before. After the game ended - which we didn't, unfortunately, win - it was simple to get her to agree to barhop around with me.

She was a little older - in her early 30s, roughly, so the average 6th St bar was not really her scene. Instead, I walked her through the Driskill Hotel and Stephen F Austin Hotel, having a drink at each. Both places have pretty outstanding bars, and I highly recommend checking them out, as long as you don't mind $8 drinks. I didn't mind that night, since she felt that because I was taking her around, she should pay. By the time we left SFA Hotel, she was giving me "I want to fuck you" eyes, hanging all over me, etc. At this point I suggested taking a pedi-cab ride down to the Warehouse District on 4th St. For those of you not from Austin, pedi-cabs are basically little carts that seat three people or so, powered by a bicycle invariably driven by one of the Emo/pot head/pseudo-intellectual/all of the above idiots who inhabit this town. It was on this ride that she leaned over, started kissing me, and then pulled back, uttering the famous line: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't do that, I just can't sleep with you tonight." With a knowing nod, I let her know that it wasn't a big deal, and besides, who said anything about sleeping together? "Let's just have a good time and a couple of drinks, and enjoy the night," I said. Then I steered the conversation away - briefly - from sexually tilted topics. I'm tellin' ya, it works every time. If she didn't want to fuck my brains out, not only would she not be getting drunk with a stranger she just met, but she wouldn't have started making out with, and, for FUCK'S SAKE, she wouldn't have actually brought up the FUCKING TOPIC.

We made it to 4th St around 12-12:30, and decided to finish off the night at Fado's - another Irish pub. Within about 15 minutes, she was sticking her tongue down my throat again. This went on for a little while, until she stopped, and looked around - a bit frantically, it seemed.

Me: "What?"
NewYorkWhore: "We can't do this."
Me: "What are you talking about?"
NYW: "There are people I work with over at that table - they can't catch me doing this."

She had talked around the topic of a significant other all night - I never really asked, but she kept letting little hints slip, and this was the clincher. It was obvious she had, at least, a boyfriend back in New York. But, whores being whores, I knew this wasn't going to get in the way for long.

Me: "Well, do you want to go somewhere else?"
NYW: "Want to walk me to my hotel?"
Me: "Sounds like a plan."

We left Fado's, and started walking to her hotel. As it turned out, she was staying at the Omni, which is a pretty nice hotel in downtown Austin. I definitely recommend checking it out. We got to her hotel, and she told me she had a bottle of wine in her room, and asked if I wanted to come up.

Can't sleep with me, my ass! It never fucking fails, I thought.

She was staying on one of the upper floors of the hotel, which necessitated a trip in the completely glassed in elevator, overlooking the lobby. Of course, I had her pressed up against the glass the whole way up, doing everything but fucking her. Seriously - it was a glassed in elevator, overlooking the lobby of a hotel I wasn't staying at. What the fuck would you have done?

We got up to her room, and she actually had a bottle of wine. I knew where this was headed, so when she was in the bathroom, I called down to the lobby for a 6am wakeup call. I had to be at work by 8am for a meeting, and since I already knew I was going to be showing up drunk, then for damn sure I'd at least show up on time.

However, when she came out of the bathroom, and we started hooking up on the bed, we hit a snag. You see, apparently when she said she couldn't sleep with me that night, she wasn't lying. She actually couldn't, because it was THAT TIME OF THE MONTH. I mean, this was seriously going to be the first time - well, second, but STILL - in my LIFE that a woman who told me she wasn't going to sleep with me in the course of normal conversation, where she didn't actually sleep with me. The blowjob she gave me helped me get over it, of course, and afterwards, I rolled over to go to sleep.

About 15 minutes later, she had other ideas. She nudged me back awake.

NYW: "Hey, wake up. I want you to fuck me."
Me: "Wh-huh? I thought you were on the rag?"
NYW: "Well...yeah....but I still want you to fuck me. Do you think it's OK?"
Me: "I guess that's really up to you."
NYW: "Yeah, we're definitely going to fuck. Hold on, let me get a condom."

Now, the absurdity of this didn't hit me until later. We fucked, went to sleep, woke up when my wake up call went off, fucked again, and then I went to work. It was only later, when I thought about it, that I realized the following:

1)I fucked a woman on her period. That's not highly remarkable, just not something I do every day.
2)Much more importantly, this fucking whore had a boyfriend at the very least, yet came to Austin for a convention, knowing she was on her period, picked up a guy on 6th St, and BROUGHT CONDOMS FUCKING WITH HER FROM NEW YORK! I mean, it's not as if she just got drunk and made a mistake. No, this one came to town with a fucking plan, and come hell or high water - or, apparently, her menstrual period - she was going to get laid. I mean, there are two ways of looking at this. First of all, what kind of a whore does that? Apparently, the kind I manage to run into. Secondly, what kind of a douchebag was she dating/married to? And this got me thinking a bit - what if my original date canceled on me because she got a better offer? It's certainly possible. I've been that "other guy" before, too, so I know it happens. From a certain perspective, I was that other guy on this particular night. I mean, why should the women I am "dating" be any different than the women I run into? This line of thinking only further reinforced my existing policy of the One Strike Rule.

In the end, all of this bothered me for about 5 seconds. Now, I just think it's funny, and a pretty good case in point for what I'm talking about. Women - and men - lie all the damn time. She was lying to her significant other (hiding the fact she was fucking around), lying to herself (by being with a guy she obviously couldn't stand), and lying to me (implying she had no intention of sleeping with me). It also validates the point, guys, that if a woman actually tells you she doesn't plan on fucking you, then unless you royally fuck things up, you are getting laid that night, because no matter the situation, she is damn sure going to find a way.

Oh, and needless to say, I never met my friends that night. When I told them why, they understood.

But seriously, I'd like to get some feedback on this. Am I unreasonable for thinking that all of the lying is ridiculous? If you read this, do me a favor. Take a hard look in the mirror. If you're female, ask yourself if you play games (canceling dates in favor of a better offer, canceling in order to get the guy to like you more, telling guys you want to sleep with that you won't sleep with them, etc.), and if you're male, ask yourself if you lie to women to get them to sleep with you. This little piece was focused on the absurdity of what women do, but guys are just as bad. I try not to be, and generally I'm pretty honest about what I'm after (although certainly there have been exceptions). My question to you is, why aren't YOU?