The one who had been celibate for five years

Alex was a little weird, he was, I'll admit that. He was a DJ on the late night shift. And because he was often the only one in the station, he basically got paid to talk to himself for 5 hours each evening, 5 days a week. The one time my friends met him at a party, they thought he talked loud and was a little obnoxious. But that's because he wasn't used to talking to REAL people. And I liked him, and that's all that matters, right?

This station was one of the five in the country not owned by Rupert Murdoch, but he could still only play the same mediocre pre-approved tunes over, and over, and over again. And because of this new-fangled technology, he could pre-record all of his spots and simply man the computer the rest of the night and make sure it didn't explode.

I met Alex online and we emailed back and forth for several weeks before we met each other. He was crazy witty, very funny, flirtatious and had an endless amount of interesting information in his head. I later found out that he had film and political science degrees, to me the perfect combination of serious issues and pop culture topics. It was never boring hanging out with him. And I liked telling people that I was dating a radio DJ. To me Alex was a fricken' local celebrity! He even had stalker stories! And I made sure that I didn't become one of these stalkers.

Sometime early on in the dating, he told me that he had gotten published on a website for funny hook-up stories, you know, kind of like what I'm doing now... Actually this was more of a "how not to hook up" website; date stories that ended horribly, also like what I'm doing here.

Alex's story was something about going out with a co-worker on new year's, getting ridiculously trashed, trying to hook up, but because of the shear amount of alcohol he had ingested, the little man was down for the count. He also throws into this story that it had been almost five years since the last time he had sex, FIVE YEARS.

I was sort of confused, was this his way of telling me that he was out of practice? Or had he not realized that information was in there. Whatever is was, I realized that there might be something horribly wrong with this man. My friends even warned me: "GET AWAY WHILE YOU CAN! This is not normal for a 30 year old man!"

The other problem with this dating situation is that I only got to see Alex about once every week or two. We had completely opposite schedules, I worked during the day, he worked at night and it worked out that I would go out of town one weekend, he would go out of town another weekend, he got sick...whatever, I never got to see him.

I'm a patient person. I could wait. No problem.

So when things finally got to the point where sex was a possibility, the poor boy must have been so nervous that he had, well *problems,* not much unlike The one who was so hot and didn't speak much English .

I'm a patient person. I can wait till he was comfortable.

I could tell after a little while that he was kinda pulling away a little bit too. His emails became less frequent (at first we emailed once a day) and I would be the one to bug him to make plans. But of course when we did hang out things seemed all good. And, once again, I was getting ready to leave town for good, so I just wanted this to last until I left.

I also wanted to be sure to have a hook up-buddy if I back in town if I needed one. So I wanted to end things on good terms. I even had him promise me some nookie when I did come back to visit. But it never works out for me like that. Other people get hook-up buddies in other cities, but not me!

We really only had sex once. ONLY ONCE!! And by then the little man had no problems, in fact the "little" man was not so "little." It was darn right huge! But for me sex is never really amazing the first time. You have have to get used to each other, you know? So I was looking forward to more.

But more never came.

I left town. I heard from him a couple times. He didn't email me back once. Then I called him and he never called back.

So that was it.

My luck. Just my luck.

Oh, the potential. It was so sad.

I could listen to his show online right now if I wanted, but that would be like stalking him. I'm no stalker! And anyway, my new computer doesn't have the right plug in...

The one who had no neck, poor thing

And yes, I say "poor thing," you can hide a small penis, a drug addiction, low self-esteem or a hairy back (most of the time), but you can't hide a no-neck. You just can't. It's just always not there.

Justin was a really sweet guy, and good friend in Australia when I lived there. But not only did I simply not find him attractive, he, like the one who didn't know how to get over it (a.k.a. the one with the tiny penis) had developed a hardness about him. At age 20 he had given in to a life of bitterness and pessimism toward the world. But he I think meant well and was trying to deal with what life had handed to him in the only way he knew how. And I don't think he got a whole lot of attention from the opposite sex. Even for those who could see through the surface, there was another layer that was hard to get through. Justin wasn't ready to let them in.

Australians are drinkers. And like the best of them, Justin was a drinker. And when he drank, he would come on pretty strong. He would try to kiss me, hug me, and confess his feeling in a number of ways. He once confessed his feelings for me to someone sitting on the couch next him as if I wasn't also sitting in the room within earshot. And I'm sorry, yes, Justin had no neck, but this drunkeness was not attractive. It just wasn't.

I hung out with him and his friends quite a bit and I began to develop little crushes on his friends. Justin would get angry in his drunken states when his friends would flirt with me. He would tell them off and give them attitude, it was embarrassing.

I started taking guitar lessons with his teacher and that increased his feelings for me. I probably should have stopped hanging out with him all together, or at least had a talk with him about it, but I didn't. But, like a few of the guys that have had feelings for me, it was only when he was drinking that I had to be worried about what he would say or do to affect my comfort level. When he was sober, it all was fine.

As I'm writing this I feel like such a hypocrite since I tend to be at my boldest when I'm drinking and I'm certainly not alone in this. I feel like many of us get into trouble when we drink and our inhibitions are down. But what I don't do is repeatedly put someone in an awkward position when I'm drinking. I think this is pretty inconsiderate and disrespectful.

That being said, he was an interesting person and a pretty good friend when he wasn't drinking. We would talk politics and Monty Python. And he did, of course, have a cute Aussie accent, and we know how I feel about accents. He even offered to give me a ride to the airport when I flew back to the States, which was pretty long drive. I remember dreading the good-bye hug, but the moment passed and it was all over.

I keep tabs on him on one of those socialization networking websites and I really hope that the poor kid is getting more comfortable in his own skin.

I say, if you've got a no-neck, work it! Make it one of your finer qualities!

The one who we used to chase

No kidding.

We literally used to chase Richard around the play yard. I was in kindergarden.

He had one of those adorable bowl cuts of totally straight blonde hair. Us girls would chase him and corner him, I remember once in the little playhouse, and plant kisses on him.

If I remember correctly, he was a pretty good sport about it.

I wonder what that did to him in the long run...he could be a total player, or completely traumatized. Who knows?

I still feel like I'm chasing boys around the school yard sometimes, although I've recently gotten really tired of it. I wonder why I had the guts back then to plant a wet one on a prey after trapping it. I was probably more ballsy at four than I am over twenty years later.

The one who didn't like cigarettes

David didn't like girls that smoked cigerettes. Even though I was smoking a beedee (a Mexican cigerette) or a clove, or something like that, I wish I had known that this was a huge turn off for him. I would have saved my one-smoke-of- the-month moment for another time. I'm not a smoker, but I like to partake from time to time.

David was a gorgeous Irish guy who was on the same Australian student exchange program. He lived in Boston with his mom while he was going to Harvard. We studied at the same university in Sydney for a semester and had a lecture together called "Australia and America in the '60s." He was in my smaller discussion class once a week and I would try my hardest not to stare. But he looked at me once from across the room and smiled, I melted. I was smitten.

I love the Irish accent. The Irish can't pronounce the "th" sound, so they say things like "tree tirty" and "tousand." I have a thing for the Irish and it seems they like me.

Possibly on my first real date ever, we went to see a silly British comedy at this cute theater near the unversity where they sell a combo of a ticket and "meal" from the concession stand (which he paid for): a drink, a candy bar and some popcorn. After that, we found this awesome cafe near my house that had a Louie Armstong mural, Beatles postcards all over the walls and boardgames to play! We played battleship, and I had myself a merry time chatting up a storm and, I guess, at some point smoking something. But I don't even remember what is was. And, I guess, I didn't ask him if it was alright if I smoked something. So rude!! I'm never rude! well, almost never...

He excused himself when we were done, since he had a scheduled phone conversation with his mom (which was probably a lie). So I let him go and went down to my favorite spot on the rocks over the beach to watch a lightning storm. I remember wanting to call David so I could invite him down there with me. But I didn't have my phone on me, which is good since I didn't know that he had already made his decision about whether he wanted to go on a second date or not.

I saw him after that and he hardly gave me the time of day, it was pretty painful. I didn't get it. We had a blast on our date, or at least I did.

I later found out from a drunk roommate, who was also in our class, that he had told her he didn't like me. Well, by then it was obvious.

It wasn't until four years later when I randomly ran into him on the east coast Chinatown Bus that the reason why he didn't want a second date was because I had smoked something that night. It was weird because as we were talking about it I kinda remembered smoking something, but still doesn't seem to make sense. Why would I be smoking Mexican cigerettes in Australia? Is my memory getting different parts of my life mixed up? Was David making up the whole cigerettes thing? Why would he do that four years later?

I certainly don't smoke many cigerettes anymore. And I know that there are people who find people that smoke them absolutely disgusting. I just never knew I would be one of them.

The one who managed a magician

It's like in the movie American Pie when Jason Biggs' character wakes up alone after losing his virginity to Alyson Hannigan; he's all excited that someone's used him for sex. That's sort of how I felt when I woke up alone after hooking up with Phil, the magician manager.

Phil was a friend of a friend of a friend, and we all went out drinking one night during the summer after I graduated college. Usually on nights like these I'm feeling good for a little while but then get bored of the people I don't know and hate the bars we're at and all the stupid drunk people in them.

But in this case I was feeling sassy! Well, sassy or just really drunk. I think we went to a couple crappy bars near campus and then ended up at a house party. I was drinking Mike's Hard Lemonades, I used to love that stuff.

I decided that I really liked Phil, he had a gorgeous body, he was interesting (manages a magician!! when do you meet someone like that?? I know, I find strange things sexy) and I wanted him to come home with me. And my inhibitions were down enough to let him know I wanted him to come home with me, which meant I had had a few too many. I don't normally just invite boys home with me. I don't, really, I don't.

For some reason we didn't want to tell our friends know he was coming over, so we concocted a lie: instead of driving the hour home, he was going to crash in his car for a little while, sober up, and then drive back. I have no idea why we couldn't just tell our friends that he was going to sleep at my house. But that's what happened. It all made sense at the time.

This was the year I lived with 11 people in a co-operative living community. I invited Phil in and we hung out in the kitchen for a little while probably to have a late night snack. I explained the living situation to him and that there were several other people in the house, so try not to wake them up!

We had some fun, he was pretty good in the sack. There was no sex however, which makes me seem a little less trampy in this story. I remember him getting up a some point and putting on clothes as it was getting light outside, but in my half-waking stuper I figured that he was just going to the bathroom, and fell back asleep.

I woke up hours later by myself, and had my Jason Biggs a.k.a. Jim Levenstein moment. And I was a bit proud of myself and didn't feel too bad about it. Anyways, I had already graduated and was moving away in a month or (I feel that this might be a pattern for me?), so who cares that I was never going to see him again!

I went down the street to a friends house for a birthday brunch and returned back to the house in the early afternoon. I was chatting with a couple housemates in the kitchen when one picked up something off the kitchen counter and asks, "What's this?"

Phil left his card on the kitchen counter I shared with ELEVEN other people!!! He knew this. I did happen to have my own room, he slept in it!! Why didn't he just leave the card in my room? I didn't find the card until the next afternoon, so it was possible that a housemate might have gone and moved it and I never would have seen it.

What I think is so funny is that this means that on his way out the door at 6am in the morning, Phil stopped by the kitchen to do whatever and leave his card. Was it an afterthought? Was he too lazy to go back upstairs or afraid that if he came back in he would wake me up?

I saved the card because I thought it was so damn hysterical. On it, the card has his magician friends' name in huge letters and Phil's name in tiny print underneath, which is why it took me a second to figure out the card was his. And not only that, but the contact information on the card is the business' information! So if I had emailed or called him (which I didn't), what would I have said? "Hi Phil, this is Kinky, the girl you hooked up with and then bailed on! wanna hang out?" No. I don't think that's an email or phone call I wanted to make.

I eventually checked out this magician guy's website. He does that super cheesy shit with confetti, a silly looking 80s tux and bad synthesized dramatic music.

I wonder where Phil is now? I sometimes think about if he really did want me to call him. Does he feel bad because he thinks I used him and never called him? Maybe he had his own American Pie moment.

The one who made me a Beatles mix tape

This is the boy who is responsible for my initial love of The Beatles.

In 8th grade I was friends with this group of nerdy indie rock boys. I realise in retrospect that I should have dated at least half of them at some point since they were cute, sweet, smart, funny and dorky, totally my type! But at the time I was too shy to do anything about it. And so were they. And anyway, I had a crush on the boy with the beautiful singing voice that made my heart skip a beat whenever he talked to me or looked in my general direction. So I was too distracted to see these boys as potentials. Even when it was totally obvious.

Matt loved The Beatles, LOVED them. I told him that I didn't know where to start with them since there were so many albums. So he made me a Beatles mix tape that I listened to up until last year when I got a car that sadly didn't have a tape player. It's a great tape. I miss it. It's sitting in a box in storage somewhere.

I hooked him up with a friend of mine, which I stupidly managed to do several times in high school. I realised in college when I was hanging out with the same group of boys over a holiday that I always kinda liked him. I also noticed that he had really bad breath, so maybe it wasn't a bad move afterall.

The one who didn't know how to make up for it

The longest relationship I've ever had was four months long. I'm not super proud of this fact, especially considering it really should have lasted less than one month. I met Adam at a Purim party and he liked me immediately because I joked that it was really scary being in a room full of desperately single Jews. I met some really bizarre people that night.

Adam asked me what I was going to do the next day, and when I said I didn't know, he surprised me with "well you're hanging out with me!"

It only took a week or so before he asked me if he could call me his girlfriend.

Our relationship only should have lasted another two weeks after that. But I was leaving town in four months for grad school and figured, "Why the hell not?"

Well here's why not, and to put it bluntly, because there's no other way to put it, the man had a unfortunately tiny penis.

Really tiny.

Like once I asked if it was still in. Really. All he said was "Well THAT'S not a good thing to hear." Um, oops.

And even more unfortunately, he didn't know how to "make up" for it. Which I put up with, because I was leaving, and hey, I've got electronics to make up for that.

But unfortunately He had developed a bitterness toward life because of his size I think. He was pretty moody. And even though his mom has recently died of lung cancer, he smoked. Not enough to make it an issue for me, but he did smoke regularly. He also LOVED pool and poker; two games I couldn't fully get behind. He had a cool job in the video editing world and complained about it constantly. I think he still works there, and I dated him almost five years ago.

Not that he was all bad, he liked cooking, he was an EXCELLENT kisser (this should never go unappreciated, because there are some god-awful kissers out there, I've kissed many of them), he liked going to shows and movies, he didn't mind sitting around doing nothing when the time called for it and had good taste in music (and we know how I feel about that).

My rationale was that I was leaving in four months, I wasn't getting too involved, he was usually good company except when it was "that time of the month for men," and I didn't have that many friends in the area (and he was better than nothing). I still stand by that descision. A couple of my friends got really mad at me for this, and my family thought he was weird, but as you know I like them weird...

When I did confront him with the "making-up-for-it" issue he claimed that he just didn't "like" doing it and defensively asked "would this be something that you would break up with me over?"

I said "no, I wouldn't, but other women might. And I'm telling you for you're own good and for the future, you're going to have to learn to like it!" He didn't like that answer. At my brother's suggestion, I didn't go near the "your penis is small" conversation. I thought that was wise. Wherever would I get with that comment?

When we finally did part ways, he gave me a mix CD called "Love Songs" with all these old indie rock emo-esque tunes like "Bohemian Like You" by the Dandy Warhols and "El Scorcho" by Weezer. I didn't quite know what to do, was Adam in love with me? I wasn't going to ask. I just let it go.

I was kind of a bitch to him after that. He would call every now and then checking up on me in grad school, sometimes mentioning that he wanted to come visit. I once made the mistake of telling him that I would be back in his area but ended up freaking out and cancelling on him at the last minute over email. I haven't spoken to him since.

The one who was my boyfriend when I was 4

I think our families met at family camp. My brother and Jared's dad met on the playground and it was love at first sight. Our mothers have a very sisterly relationship where one makes the other crazy but always forgives. Our mothers also figured that since they each had a child the same age, those children should hang out.

And hang out we did.

We watched lots of movies together, I still think of Jared whenever I see Back to the Future, it's just something built into my brain. Jared IS Marty McFly.

I remember showering with Jared when I was 4. I looked down and thought, "what's that?" I'm sure he thought the same thing too.

We went to high school together and even though we ran in completely different circles, we still hung out at family functions. Our mothers bought an ad in our senior yearbook with the two of us in the bathtub together. It was great! Not mortifying at all Mom, thanks a lot!

We had sleepovers. I think we would kiss good night, but I couldn't be sure.

I do remember that Jared snored a bit though, and I'm a light sleeper, even back then. And I could never sleep well in strange places. I know that at least once I called my Dad and had him come pick me up in the middle of the night. I was pretty embarrassed by that. I would never do that again: leave a guys house before he woke up, but it would happen to me twenty years later (The one who managed a musician)! Maybe it was karma...

And I know I have pictures somewhere with Jared modeling some of my clothes, maybe it was in junior high? I'm to saving these just in case I have blackmailing needs in the future.

I still see Jared and his "little" brother at my parents house for holidays. They have become perfect specimen of men: tall (like 6'4"), tan (they love to surf), muscular (they work out like crazy), and damn good looking. Not only that, but they are super smart too, Jared is a doctor, a GOOD doctor that's already published and went to Senegal to volunteer at an orphanage for a summer! (he got typhoid, but that's another story), and the younger brother wants to get a business degree. They're a Jewish mother's dream right?

Every time I seem them it kinda blows me away, and sadly, they are more like my brothers or cousins than just two good looking guys. So I could never look at them that way. They're way too damn tall for me anyway.