The one who was so hot and didn't speak much english, one year later

To review: I met the Israeli in Israel a couple years ago. This is what happened. In a nutshell I spent the night at his kibbutz and he couldn't keep it up after putting on a condom. So no love for Kinky.

Kinky and the Israeli keep in touch over broken English emails. Israeli goes to Central America and says he's going to come visit.  I don't know what to expect.

I told him he could visit for two days. I just wasn’t really comfortable with him staying with me for more than that. I just wasn’t. I wasn’t even sure when he would be coming into town. I had a test to study for and, of course, I had to be at work. So a couple days would be all that I really wanted him around for.

He took that to mean “a few” days I guess. Which probably meant a couple weeks to an Isreali kibbutznic.

I ended up picking him up from the airport. I’m not sure why his friends didn’t pick him up. He had been traveling with them through Central America for 5 months. They were probably sick of him.

Nevertheless, My roommate and I picked him up from the airport and we went directly to a show I had already bought tickets for. I bought him an extra ticket. He smelled AWFUL. I feel really bad for the person he was sitting net to on the plane. I know they have showers in South America... wait a minute he was flying in from visiting his cousins in the States... wtf?

I picked him up, he looked good though. His hair had grown out and he was sporting a jew-fro. It was cute.

When we got to the club's bar, I asked flirtatiously, “You’re going to buy us drinks right?” Didn’t I just pick him up from the airport and pay for his ticket to get into the show. He said, of course, and bought them with no arguments. It was a good show, even though he continued to smell bad.

When we got to my house, I requested that he shower.  I also had to decide where he was going to sleep: in my bed or on the couch? Due to our history, I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to go down that route again. I ended up deciding that I wanted him in my bed. And due to his “sexual” problems, I don’t even count what we did as “sex.” It lasted a very, very short amount of time.  I was disappointed. He didn’t say anything.

The second night we stayed at my brother’s house to dog sit. During the day I drove him around town, showing him the sites. He didn’t seem too excited. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. He never said 'thank you', or offered to pay for anything.

That night as we were walking around with a friend, we saw two naked men just walking down the street, adorned with only shoes and cock-rings. It was hysterical. He was so embarrassed. Oh, I love watching people as they are pushed outside their comfort zone.

That night I stayed away from him in bed. I just didn’t want to go through it again. It wasn’t worth it.

Saturday morning I was feeling sweet and got up and made breakfast while he slept. He slept and slept and slept. No problem except his food got cold. When he woke up, he ate it. All he said was “You made this?” That’s it.

I showed him around town more for the rest of the day and outright requested that he pay for lunch. I didn’t have a fulltime job, I was not rolling in the cash. It was his turn to pay.

The next day I had made plans to meet up with some girlfriends of mine, his plans kept changing making me late for my friends.  I was getting really angry. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

 
He still didn’t have much to say, especially “thank you.” And he certainly didn’t seem too excited to be in town. I was so angry at his lack of respect and consideration for me. I felt used. Frustrated, I asked him to pay me back for the ticket to the show we had seen on his first night in town.

“How much was ticket?” He asked in broken English.

“$25”

“Well I bought you a drink, so I’ll give you $15.”

Um, no. Are you fucking serious? You’re going to give me the full $25. I’ve let you stay at my house, I cook for you and drive you around town? If we were having a great time and having amazing sex that would be one thing, maybe it would be worth it. But neither of these things were occurring. Who do you think you are? My lame-ass smelly boyfriend?

Of course I didn’t say this. I just made it clear that I didn’t want him to stay at my house that Sunday night. I asked that his friends come by the house later to pick up his stuff.

That night, after spending a nice day with my girlfriends, I was sitting in the living room talking to my roommates, waiting for him to come by and pick up his stuff. I went into my room and the door leading to the outside (I live in the old garage and have my own entrance) was wide open. His stuff was gone. 

He had entered my home, taken his stuff and left. No 'thank you', nothing.

Are you kidding? How fucked up is that? 

At least I figured he was mad enough, or embarrassed enough that I wouldn’t be hearing from him again.

One of his friends that he had been traveling around Central America with was from the area and stuck around for several months working and saving money.  I saw her and had to ask her what he had said about me.

"He was sad and he knew you were really angry at him."  

Oh well, this didn't really make me feel bad. I told her about the sexual issues.

"Really?" I knew the other guys at the kibbutz tease him about that, but I didn't think it was true!

Okay, now I felt better.

I never heard from him again. Thank god.

The one who had an open marriage

Yes, I was the other woman, or An-other woman. But I didn't want to be a home wrecker.

I met Paul at the airport when an ice storm kept me from making the last leg of my trip. Not knowing how long we would be held up, a group of us decided to band together and figure out alternate ways of getting home.

First four of us tried to get a rental car. But decided that it might not be a good idea because of the ice. So we were directed to the train, which would only take a little bit longer than driving, and would be safer and cheaper.

Paul was a normal looking guy who was coming back from a job interview. He had been in the Navy and was very outright flirty (and a little dirty). It was pretty insane. I was very embarrassed and flattered all at the same time.

He honestly explained to me that he had an open marriage with his wife. They could sleep with whomever they wanted as long as they told the other person and kept the details to a minimum.

Paul had only used this freedom only once before while his wife engaged in extramarital sex quite frequently. He said it didn't bother him. As long as it didn't detract from their relationship, it was fine.

I was intrigued, I had never been involved in anything like that before. Paul had a lot of sexual energy which I thought was hot and he was totally digging me. I believed him (my friends were skeptical) and figured as long as it was all part of the arrangement, I wasn't doing anything I would later regret. And, well, I could use some amazing sex. Couldn't we all? I was okay with the fact that it might only be that: sex.

So we made out on the train a little and Paul was an amazing kisser. I was excited to see what the future might have in store.

We emailed back and forth a few days and he ended up coming over during one day. I'm pretty sure he thought that I was this wild thing that had all of this kinky sex. In reality, I haven't, and am still learning the basics of what I like and what really works for me.

He asked me all these questions and I didn't know how to answer them, and I was kinda embarrassed that I couldn't answer them. Like, "can you have multiple orgasms?" I mean I don't even necessarily even know how to answer "what's your favorite position?" I know it's sad, and hopefully I'll know the answers to these questions. Just blame it on the one who didn't know how to make up for it (who's going to be in town soon and wants to see me, what do we think about that?? Please comment.)

And being with Paul for a couple hours in the middle of the day was not the time or place for me to spill my guts on the emotional and sexual disappointments of my previous sexual relationships. So I just got quite and said we could do whatever he wanted.

It was certainly fun, but what I really didn't like about it was that after he would finish, he would just hop off of me and head to the bathroom to clean up. No cuddling, no kissing.

I'm done and I'm dirty! Need to clean up. Thanks, I'll call you later when I have some time between classes and feeling horny!

Talk about feeling weird. Not cheap, but it was definitely strange.

I was not upset that I would never exclusively have him, it never entered my mind since it was never a possibility.

He came over one other time after that. And I'm not super proud of this, but he told his wife about me and she got jealous and didn't want to have an open marriage anymore. It came out that she had been using the arrangement as a way to make him jealous, which I assume didn't work. But he told her that he liked me and wanted to see it out. For some reason I didn't kick him out of my apartment right then and there. We had sex again, I felt the same way and didn't want to see him anymore after that. It certainly wasn't worth it.

I then started seeing the one who had been celibate for five years and Paul helped me through a momentary freak out that I had over him.

Paul and his wife moved away. He had been offered several jobs, a couple in really cool cities, but she wanted to be closer to her family and ended up in some awful suburban town in the middle of nowhere.

I definitely don't regret the encounter, but I did learn about myself that sex just for the sake of sex was really not fulfilling to me at all.

This is why I've happily made a decision to stay away from situations like that. There's nothing wrong with sex for the sake of sex, but maybe it's just not for me. It also means that I only had sex once in the year after that.

The one who really just needed to get laid

There was this guy named Glenn in one of my grad school bands, that as far as I'm concerned, just dripped sex. There was just so much sexual energy between us, it was ridiculous.

He had gorgeous long dark curly hair, not so different than the one who had great hair, had an awesome body (and wore t-shirts that showed it off), had a sweet disposition and would just smile at me. I'm sure I did the same back.

Man oh man, that year my band was overflowing with hotties; Thursday nights was three hours of eye-candy pleasure. The tattooed Eastern religion student, the flakey yet talented guitarist, the hot laid back lesbian keyboardist/saxophonist, the silly and conceited vocalist, and Glenn, the sexually frustrated percussionist.

There's not much to tell here but I would stare. I would. It was bad.

I learned at one point from a mutual friend that Glenn had recently gotten out of a bad relationship and was probably still very much healing from it. He had made out with a female friend of mine who would become the one and only girl I have ever referred to as my girlfriend, and she said that he was very sexually uptight because of the ex-girlfriend.

Well, we kinda skirted around actually hanging out, and one night we were supposed to have a drink and he just invited me over instead. And I'm like, "okay."

We had some beers, had sex and I went home early in the morning. Simple as that. Sometimes it just happens like that.

It wasn't so great unfortunately, but we both needed it, BADLY. Glenn met the love of his life soon after that. So I figure it was good that the sexual tension between us had been broken. There are times that it just needs to happen. And I didn't have to see him much after that, and when I did, it was fine.

Sometimes it's just been too long since the last time you got naked with someone, right?

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 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 so hot and didn't speak much english

You would usually see this is as every man's fantasy, right? A hot blonde Swedish woman who speaks broken English, like Ulla in The Producers, and is just fine with putting out.

I met Reuven the evening before my birthday while I was in Israel at a hot springs near his kibbutz. Something told me that I wanted to talk to him, maybe the sulfur fumes had gotten to my head. But, he was a young, wet, good-looking Israeli. They make them hot over there I tell you! We start talking and he invites me to meet his two American friends and have a cigarette, which by the way, was a special kibbutz brand that is strong enough to make a non-smoker feel like you've just taken a hit of marijuana. nice.

I was feeling giddy and bold and invited them back to where we were staying for pre-birthday celebrations of beer, vodka and juice and hookas. I didn't think he would show up, but he did! But only for 20 minutes or so before his friend needed to leave for some I-not-feeling-so-good reason. I was sad that I didn't get a picture with this hottie. But I was glad to have "pulled" a nice young man, as the British would say.

Even though I was super hung over the next morning and puked all over the parking lot of a Golan Heights military fort (a totally different story) I had a wonderful birthday and a sweet Valentines day, which is a day after my birthday. Reuven kept sending me text messages in his horribly broken english like "Happy Valletimes Day sweety."

He invites me to come up to visit a week later. My cousins encourage it. I feel weird about getting on a three hour bus ride for a booty call! But I do.

This man is hot, and he knows it, people told him this when he was in the army. But since he lives on a kibbutz near his family, he doesn't get out much. He works in the kibbutz greenhouse with his plant "babies," which I'm sure added to the romantic fantasies of this lazy American city gal.

We watch Friends and The Simpsons and he laughs at all of the stupid jokes that a foreigner would enjoy, like the fart jokes. We make out, go to a local bar 20 minutes down the road, take funny pictures, we sing in the car to Joe Cocker (who they all LOVE over there) and I mostly talk to his American friend. We get back to his little room and make out under the large poster of the half-naked women on the wall.

As you will soon learn, I seem to attract men with sexual problems that the ladies in Sex in the City dump boyfriends for. This hot Israeli can't keep it up after a condom has been placed on his member, but I'm happy to make out all night. The next morning, he goes off to work and I go back to Tel Aviv.

I go back a week later, for more of the same. But this time just the two of us go the bar on the "mighty" Jordan River, where people from all over the world come to get baptized. And we don't have much to talk about since there's this language barrier. We go back to his room nonetheless and try again, the same thing happens.

Whatever, it's fine, no threat of having Jewish babies for me at this juncture.

Reuven sends me emails sometimes. He asked for a picture of me and wants to come visit me in the United States. He wants me to come travel with him in Central America. I'm happy to have him stay when he comes, but we'll see about Honduras and Beliz. Is this part of the fantasy? Are you supposed to get emails months after? But he's sooo hot!

His emails are hysterical and adorable, they go something like this:

hey girl how you doing? i had some problems with my
internet and now i can send you an e-mail.  so what
are you doing in these days? are you working or
something like this?

One of the best parts about all of this whole encounter is that before I left his place the second time, he gave me this silly fake Hawaiian leis he had lying around. I found this so funny on so many levels:

1) The "I got laid" joke is always funny!
2) I didn't get laid.
3) I said "I got laid" out loud and laughed in front of him.
4) He didn't get it when I said it.

classic.