I Was An Emotional Prostitute Part 17

Another fellow asked me out and then didn’t show up on time. I waited five minutes and when he didn’t show I left. I went home and called him. He said he’d been there. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and went to his apartment to pick him up. I was totally unimpressed by the way he dressed. It was a warm summer day so I’d worn a nice lightweight denim dress. He was wearing a t-shirt with some kind of bird or animal on it and plaid shorts. The clothing made me think of a man lounging at home with some friends or doing his housework, not going on a first date with an attractive lady.

We went to see “Pocahontas”, which I chose at his request. When she and the English man met, he leaned over and quietly said, “Ugh! Boy meets girl. Now we make baby.”

After the movie, his main topic of conversation was sex despite my attempts to make it clear I didn’t wish to discuss my sexual preferences. I was glad when the date was over.

The last customer at my job that I went out with turned out to be something. I’m not sure what. He claimed to be Christian and married, but was away from his wife because of his job and wanted to be friends. I didn’t have a problem with that. However, his behavior said otherwise. He kissed me a lot and told me how he coped with his sexual urges. Then asked me how I coped with mine. I told him it was none of his business. He protested that he’d told me how he dealt with his. I thought, “But I didn’t ask for that information nor would I have.”

The thing that really tore it for me though was an overnight camping trip. We slept fully clothed in the back of his van. Periodically I would wake up to roll over and his legs would be on mine. I couldn’t believe it. The next morning I told him I wanted to go home that day. He took me home and on the way I noticed that his van’s exhaust fumes had a tendency to come up into the interior where I would end up breathing them and to make matters worse, I was very pregnant. He called me a day or so after he took me home and I told him in no uncertain terms that I never wanted to see him again. I only wish I could have slammed the phone in his ear, but that’s not possible with a cordless phone.

I met a few men online. Most of which, I didn’t meet in person for one reason or another. One of them got upset with me one night because I didn’t respond to his e-mails right away. After reading how upset he was, I e-mailed him back and reminded him that I had a life. I was a single mom and a full-time college student who didn’t have time to sit in front of a computer waiting for his e-mails. I got one more e-mail from him saying that he was going out of town for a few days. I never heard from him again.

A few men sent me their pictures, though I didn’t ask. One got upset with me when my repeated attempts to e-mail him one of me didn’t work. The others just kind of faded away.

Another one asked me in a phone conversation if I was a good kisser. I told him I’d never had any complaints. The question turned me off and gave me serious doubts about meeting in person. In fact the night we were to meet, I tried to call him and call off the meeting. Unfortunately he’d already left, so I stood him up.

            Another man I met online and then went out with was the worst kisser I ever met. He somehow managed to bump teeth with me several times. But what really got me was his tendency to put his hand on my breast despite my repeatedly moving it away. When I brought it up over the phone, a few days after our date, he said he hadn’t understood that my moving his hand away meant, “Leave my breast alone.”

I really hit the roof at that. How could he not understand?!

            I met the last man I was supposed to go out with at church because my mother knew him. He would make dates with me and then call me up to tell me he couldn’t make it. Given his living situation, I understood. He was living in something of a half-way house and there were rules he had to follow. The last time he asked me out, however, I asked him if he was absolutely sure he could make it this time. He assured me he could. The day and time he was to call me and let me know the exact time came and went, there was no phone call. He finally called me a week and a half later. When I questioned him about what happened, he said he’d gotten busy. I replied, “Too busy to call me?”

He got rather defensive and that was the last time we spoke. I learned later from my mother that he’d tried to pass it off as a misunderstanding. Considering I’d done what I could to be sure of details, there was no misunderstanding. Mother also told me that she’d warned him not to make me mad. I guess some people just have to learn the hard way.