Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, boyfriends, commitment, dating, kissing, relationships
Success! I finally have a boyfriend. Who would have thought after eight years that I would actually succeed in settling down? Unfortunately, it lasted barely 48 hours, but still! I got to call someone my boyfriend for one night…until I panicked about my single status and sent him packing.
An old friend came into town the other day out of the blue. I had no idea he was visiting until he was already here. Joe is a friend from college, a very sweet man and someone who I attempted to date back in college. If you think I’m crazy now, you should have seen what I was like then. I was a freaking shit show. I’d break your heart the moment I shook your hand. Well, Joe didn’t know this and unfortunately attempted to tame me. I tried to give it a shot but he was way too nice. Plus I had thought he was gay before he asked me out. I need fight in my men. I need spirit and the ability to go drink-for-drink with me; not kind eyes*.
The one time we actually went on a date, it was an accidental three hour night. He asked me to coffee post-class and three hours later I was lying to get out of dinner. Coffee turned into lunch, then into wandering around a book store… it lasted forever. For the rest of our college careers, Joe secretly pined for me… apparently (he told me this later, I’m not being conceited). It just never ended up working out because I was way too bat shit to settle in a relationship.
Now three years later, I’m still afraid of commitment, but I am trying to give it a shot. Baby steps, baby.
Joe was in town the other day. He came on a day that I happened to be a little depressed. At the bar I work at, some customers were making fun of me for being single… which usually doesn’t affect me, but that day it stung a little. Then, out of the blue… Joe texted me saying he was in town and that he always had a crush on me. BINGO. Definitely needed to hear that.
Joe asked me if I wanted to hang out after work, so I agreed. It was late, so we went back to my place with a bottle of wine and a six pack. He had had a few beers before he met me so he felt comfortable telling me how much he liked me in college and all of that shit. Apparently that is all I needed to hear. I was hooked. A few glasses of wine later… I was game for commitment apparently.
We grabbed some beers and walked around my neighborhood. Two seconds into the walk we were kissing. He was a gooood kisser. We walked hand in hand for an hour and then went back to my place. He lifted me up and threw me on the couch, it was passionate making out. We retired to my bedroom and continued the kissing until he asked me if I wanted him to go down on me. I haven’t had any sort of sexual contact in over a year and I said no!!! Look who’s growing up! I refused sex in my drunken state because I want to start a relationship before I engage in sexual activities. (who the fuck is this girl???)
Lying in bed, he talked about wanting to be with me and be my boyfriend. I said yes. He talked about moving to where I live (he lives two states away….) and I actually called him my boyfriend!!! What???!!
(Writing this story now, makes me want to vomit a little bit. You all know I’m not a mushy relationship person… so I’m feeling a bit queazy!)
The next day I drove him back to the hotel, we texted that day and the next day we hung out again after work. I was sort of regretting my hasty decision to be in a relationship so we avoided that conversation and he left with just one kiss goodbye. It was fun having a boyfriend for a day, but I still don’t think I’m ready for any sort of commitment. He is coming to visit me in a couple of weeks though! What is with these men wanting to move across country for me? I seriously must be an amazing kisser!
*Anastasia speak for gay eyes.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, boyfriends, dating, friendship, humor, kissing, relationships, sex, women
I am going to share some things with you from times that I should have called in an early night, but didn’t. This way you can learn from my mistakes and call it a night before these things happen!
1. When you wake up in someone else’s clothes and look over and see a naked hairy man snorting a line of coke off the bedside table – you probably shoulda called it a night.
2. When you wake up on a couch with your best friend’s brother who is three years younger than you, his hand down your shirt and beer bottles and pizza scattered all over the table – you probably shoulda called it a night.
3. If you wake up in the basement of a football player’s house wearing the remains of a fairy costume next to an uncircumcised man and you have to do the walk of shame through their apartment over the other football player you were previously hooking up with only to return to your home where your panties were raided and spread all over the house and blood smeared on the walls from a “wrestling” injury – you probably shoulda called it a night.
4. If you wake up next to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend lying in your bed while your best friend is in the next room – you probably shoulda called it a night.
5. If the van door suddenly jolts open to reveal your friend who is in love with you staring at you in horror because you are naked and your current lover’s parts are still inside you – you probably shoulda called it a night.
6. When you wake up and your current lover is frantically trying to find one of the condoms from your night of fun – only for the condom to reveal itself later stuck in “places” – you probably shoulda called it a night.
7. When you wake up in Coney Island on the subway train, covered in puke and have no idea how to get to Brooklyn – you probably shoulda called it a night.
Yeah when you wind up here and can't figure out how to get to Brooklyn, you must have had a rough night - because this is the last stop in BK
8. If you and your friend end up in a random apartment lying next to practical strangers and they ask you to shower with them the next morning – you and your friend probably shoulda called it a night.
9. When you wake up covered from head to toe in stale beer and you have two stamps from the location where you partied the night before, stamped on your nipples – you shoulda called it a night.
10. When you wake up cuddling with an old friend, a bloody elbow, a fat lip from being punched in the mouth and 18 text messages from a desperate man – you probably shoulda called it a night.
- Alexis Patron
Filed under: this and that | Tags: anastasia, boyfriends, dating, ex, girlfriends, relationships, women
I’m responding to a reader’s comments in a post because that’s exactly what it deserves. And, also, I have to give David a shout out for being one of the most awesome readers and thank him for his kind words that made me feel much better. So thank you, good sir. I hope you are having a lovely day.
To see David’s comment about the last article visit: I blame optimism.
Now, it’s business time. Let’s talk about being friends with an ex. The elusive theory I never thought I’d encounter but now have been thrown into. David asked if, in my opinion, it will be easier or more difficult to revert to friends with the ex since we are of the same sex.
I can only answer this question with my own personal experiences and what I know from watching friends go through similar experiences in the last year. Currently, I am not friends with any male that I slept with, had a relationship with, or fooled around with post high school. I am friends with one guy I fooled around with in high school and lucky for me, he’s one of my best friends on earth. With this one exception, I strictly abide to the policy of “get me off and get out of my life” apparently.
It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with these men, but for various reasons our relationship deteriorated into either unsalvageable or not worth the effort. In the case of ex boyfriend I physically cannot be friends with him yet. I know myself too well and hearing his voice will always make me want more.
The situation with the ex lady friend is a little different. This was my first same-sex relationship and at the end has left me in a wake of nothing but more confusion and more alcohol. For example: who will I date or sleep with next? Will it be a man or a woman? I don’t know. I loathe bisexuality. I loathe it like I loathe the Yankees. This is probably the most hypocritical statement I have made all week, too. I loathe it because, in my experience, people announce their bisexuality with fireworks. It’s such an attention-seeking move. It represents living in a society in which people are defined drastically by their sexuality. And that’s such bullshit because people are defined by so much more than sexuality. Sexuality makes up a tiny percentage of who you are.
But this is a hypocritical statement because for now I am bisexual. See? Even just typing that makes my skin crawl. There are things I love about both sexes. I love beards. I love broad shoulders. I love deep voices that come with light touches. On the other hand, I love curves. I love soft skin. I love light voices and even lighter touches. I love turning people’s heads when they see me holding a girl’s hand. And I would not be interested in a woman with a beard, broad shoulders and a deep voice; just as I’m not interested in a man with curves and a falsetto.
Part of the reason why I’m having trouble getting over this (even though we’re still only on the second week) is that she never pushed me to answer the question of if I am gay or straight, and now I’m pushing myself to answer it.
Anyways, sorry, got a bit off topic there.
I have a pretty tight-knit group of friends who are lesbians and, conveniently, all friends with their exes. To answer David’s initial questions: I think it is easier for women who are in same sex relationships to remain friends with other women they were romantically involved with.
Because, generally, women are more emotional. We are more willing to go an extra mile for a friend or lover. We value close relationships with friends and even closer relationships with lovers. Now, this is not to say that men are not emotional and don’t care about their significant others but it’s just a different level with women.
This friends-with-the-ex theory is such a delicate balance. It takes time, a shit ton of effort and a bucket full of tears. And it can be a very, very fine line. This is partially what destroyed my relationship with the ex lady friend: she’s not over her ex. And look at that, they are friends!
That’s not always how it works. That could just be a unique situation. Honestly, I think my ex will be able to be friends with her ex, too, and in turn I’ll be able to be friends with her. One day. Hopefully.
- Anastasia Beam
Filed under: douche baggery | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, boyfriends, commitment, dating, friendship, green bay packers, kissing, new york city, rangers, relationships
I do not scare easily. Spiders gross me out, but I can handle them if need be. Love heights- flying is like home to me. But throw that “commitment” word around and I bolt faster than a shot fired from a gun. There will be an Alexis-sized hole through the nearest wall.
My horoscope characteristics: a nagging need to feel free (which can lead to trouble), fears responsibility, impatient, a risk taker and gambler at heart, argumentative and has a lack of commitment. Soooo very true.
So when someone tells me they want to enter a committed relationship, I freak out. Especially if I don’t see it coming. Now you know why I haven’t had a boyfriend in the last eight years. There were some events that triggered this fear, but that’s a much longer story best saved for a therapist.
Well, when I went to visit Anastasia, not only did I have a wonderful time with her, but I also was put into a “scary” situation. A man told me he was “head over heels crazy about me.” Fuck that makes me shudder even now.
I knew a lot of people from this bar I used to work at in NYC, one of which I had gone on a date with about two years ago. Billy is a super nice person and I enjoyed his friendship a lot. But dating? Yeah, not so good of a time. He just wasn’t for me. I was in my “nice guys finish last phase,” where I only dated horrible men. So, Billy, he would never have worked out. I ended up avoiding him until I moved.
Since being away from Billy, we were able to establish a pretty sweet friendship. We have a playful football rivalry (Packers v. Giants) so we tend to talk a lot during football season. Finally I decided to go back for a visit (to visit Anastasia) and I ended up mentioning this to Billy. He got excited and told me he’d take me to a Rangers hockey game while I was there. This excited me because I wanted to see the old gang.
In the weeks leading up to my visit, Billy and I had begun talking a lot. Even to the point that I may have developed a slight crush on the guy. It was a I-like-you-only-because-you-live-far-away kind of crush. But who knows. Maybe, since I’m now 25, I am mature enough for a relationship? So I was excited to see him and therefore told him so.
Things turned sour fast. Our flirtation turned into “I’ll do anything to be with you,” in zero-60. It was bad. It didn’t help that I got hammered at the game and ended up making out with him. My bad. In my defense I didn’t know it’d lead to the following text conversation that happened the day after the game.
Billy: There’s something I wanna tell you when I get home tonight
Me: Um OK that makes me nervous
Billy: Haha don’t be. It’s nothing bad. Just something I’ve wanted to say for awhile.
Me: I hate waiting
Billy: I promise it’ll be worth the wait.
Me: Just give me a hint
Billy: It has to do w/how I feel about you but I’m a little nervous to say it
Me: That’s what I thought
Billy: I’m just gonna say it now… I’m head over heels crazy about you
Billy: You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the honor of meeting
Billy: Honestly, I want to do whatever it takes to be w/you even if it means packing up and moving out to where you are
Billy: I mean it. I want you in my life no matter what it takes
Billy: I love being near you. I miss you so much and I wish I had you in my arms right now
Ah, ah, ah… cue hyperventilating. Yikes. What the fuck happened. I know I’m a damn fine kisser, but holy shit, I did not see that one coming. I had to squash this shit quick.
The texting continued for the rest of the weekend that I was visiting Anastasia. He said more things like “I want to protect you,” and other creepy shit like that. I had to agree to meet with him on Sunday in order to “discuss” what we were going to do.
Sunday rolls around and I really didn’t want to go, but I felt it necessary. I go to meet him to watch a football game somewhere downtown. When he sees me, he immediately goes in for the kiss. I turn my cheek. He tries again. I turn my cheek again. HE FUCKING TRIES AGAIN. Yes, he really did for a third time. That last time I finally just pulled away. That shit wasn’t happening. Then he goes for the hand holding. There is nothing that scares me more than public displays of affection… but I felt bad. This man was going to cry if I didn’t do something.
We end up walking around for almost an hour trying to find a bar. It was rainy and gross. Did not help the situation. We finally found a bar. We sat down and took off our coats. He was wearing the EXACT same outfit as me. Son of a bitch. I AM THE PACKER FAN, NOT HIM. But to impress me he decided he would wear a Packer shirt. Fuck, I had decided to wear mine as well, in remorse of the fact that the Packers were out of the playoffs. Never thought he’d wear a GB shirt as well, especially since he’s a Giants fan. We looked like morons.
As soon as we sat down he said: I just want you to know that I’m serious, I’d do anything to be with you, even if that meant moving.
My response? - Oh… uh that’s not necessary.
In the next two hours I proceeded to tell him that I didn’t want to date him, didn’t want him to move, that I’m a tad bit crazy, that I sort of married my yoga teacher in Bali… and so much more. Nothing scared him. My goodness, all you have to say to me is the “C” word and I’m scared out of my mind. Shit son. He’s like Earnest on steroids. Where do I find these men? It didn’t end well; I think he thinks we are getting married next month… I didn’t want to crush his soul so I tried to be nice. I’ll have to go for a more drastic tactic next time. Anastasia saved me half way through the “date.” Our code text was “I hate Brett Favre.” Which was appropriate because I was watching the Vikings game. She called and said I had to meet her sooner rather than later so we could go to a dinner party. I made Billy leave the bar shortly after.
He walked me to my train, kissed me, and I ran for my life, slightly fearing he may have gotten on my train in a different car. Yikes.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: this and that | Tags: 2009, alcohol, alexis, boyfriends, dating, las vegas, men, new year, relationships, sex
I just wanted to take the time to be a little nostalgic as this year comes to a close and I look back over the last twelve months. Ha! Who am I kidding, 2009 sucked. I am very much looking forward to 2010. I would like to bring you all through the journey of my last twelve months.
January: Dating a drug addict, awesome. Earnest starts to like me. Anastasia and I decide to start this blog!!
February: Sleep with my marine friend who acts like a 12-yr-old girl. Decide to join the Navy as an officer.
March: Applying to the Navy. Things with Earnest really heat up.
April: Finish applying to the Navy, the process takes a long time. Still trying to get rid of Earnest.
May: Decide against the commitment of the Navy. Decide to go celibate for six months. Hit up Vegas with my roommates from college for a smashing good time.
June: Best friend gets married – make horrible decisions. Few dates with hot New Zealander.
July: Anastasia and I are too busy being crazy during the summer months to write anything.
August: I go to Wisconsin to visit old friends – oh wait, I haven’t written about that yet – yeah that was a good time, look forward to that story soon!
September: Disaster with New Zealander strikes.
October: Still celibate and not by choice.
November: Travel to Bali on a yoga retreat! It was my birthday present to myself. Oh and along the way I seemed to have sort of married my yoga teacher? Strange.
December: Christmas in Wisconsin and Minnesota, attended a killer Green Bay Packer game, and ended this year quite nicely.
All in all this year was not as bad as 2008, but I have a feeling that 2010 is going to be phenomenal. Especially since I get to visit Anastasia in two weeks! Oh the ruckus we will cause.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, boyfriends, commitment, dating, kissing, men, relationships, sex
My passion.
I have an obsession with unavailable men, as Anastasia so lovingly pointed out yesterday in conversation.
Let’s do a play-by-play:
Alexis: Hey, I’m coming to visit you soon.
Anastasia: Awesome.
Alexis: So have you decided if you’re actually in a relationship with that girl?
Anastasia: Fuck if I tell you. You come and visit and if I’m in a relationship with her, you’ll make out with her and ruin my life.
God, It’s so true. Apparently I have a thing for unattainable goals (and by goals, I mean humans). It’s not on purpose. I just happen to fall for people in relationships. Something tells me it has to do with commitment and my utter fear of the word. Therefore, if I subconsciously seek unavailable men, commitment will never be an issue. Healthy, very healthy.
I’m not a bitch. It’s not something I seek to do; I just crush on spoken-for men. I never act on these crushes…well, except for on my birthday a few weeks ago.
I’ve been crushing on this dancer friend of mine, par for the course since I’m sure his girlfriend is lovely. I would have never done anything under any other circumstances.
The situation: my birthday, drunk, his arm around me. Logically, after a few shorts of tequila, I attempted to kiss him? The tequila pretty much erased my memory of the evening. The world may never know if this actually happened, but I have a strongly undeniable feeling that it did. I definitely shoulda called it a night before the shots started.
I’m not proud of my action but it made me think of the past and my history of crushes in relationships. The list is much longer than I expected. I don’t want to break up the relationships of these men but knowing their relationship makes it unrealistic for them to reciprocate feelings, therefore I wouldn’t have to worry about commitment. My innocent crushes remain innocent and avoid complication.
Complication only sparks when I make dumb ass mistakes.
Ah commitment. A seemingly easy task for most people. However, I cannot seem to take that leap. I won’t even commit to a date a week in advance. Too much may happen between Monday and Friday, I may like someone else, something better may come along… You just never know. Hence why most men don’t stick around for too long. They find the “hard-to-get” game that they think I’m playing, fun and quirky in the beginning. Until they realize I’m just never “available.”
I blame my commitment issues on my father. Isn’t that what most daughters do? My dad had quite a few girlfriends when I was growing up. I learned fast and young to never get attached. They always left. When he finally met one that stuck around for awhile, I was so taken aback by the possibility of someone staying around that I tried everything I could to drive her away. Including hiding under the bed when I first met her to crying and slamming my bedroom door when I found out they got engaged.
As I grow up I realize my petty fear of commitment is completely ridiculous and is something I need to get over fast if I ever hope to get married. In attempts to get over this fear, I still have not managed to rid myself of the desire of unavailable men or completely inappropriate men. Those who I do tend to date are ones that I would never have any sort of a future with… a.k.a a drug addict, someone who lives in Texas, a traveling yacht employee… etc.
To catch up on my latest failed dating adventures:
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: alcohol | Tags: alcohol, anastasia, boyfriends, ex-boyfriend, wedding
The last five months have been interesting. The good and bad, highs and lows, sober and…well, okay rarely sober. I did it all. But I haven’t been a good friend to those who don’t live within a mile radius of my apartment. So, to them, and to you all-because we’re all friends now- I apologize.
Ask Alexis, I rarely picked up the phone when she called. When I called her back our conversations usually began with her asking “How many boxes of wine tonight?”
What? How many boxes of wine tonight? I’m not exaggerating, it was an appropriate question.
I cut back on sleeping entirely. My solid eight-hours-of-sleep winter quickly transformed into an eight-hours-of-sleep every three days, if I was lucky. My lungs hate me because I’m now officially a smoker, a fact I make no apologies for. My liver has always hated me, but it’s still kickin’.
But why did I disappear? Well, let’s talk about the ex-boyfriend ship. So, it’s like this: I’m standing at the dock talking to the captain. He tells me if I get on the ship, it could take me to an amazing place. I’m talking tropically warm with no humidity and everything I’d ever need would be right there (because that’s what it felt like when I was wrapped up in ex-boyfriend’s arms). So, I ask of the captain what the deal is with the “could” and “might” and otherwise ambiguous phrases he’s using. But he can’t tell me until I the ship leaves port. It all sounds great until I remember my tendency for seasickness (like the time ex-boyfriend “almost” cheated on me, or when he would get angry when I offered help in any given situation, or how rehearsal was always top priority even if I was visiting him from out of the country: all felt exactly like being seasick).
“Don’t get on board,” I tell myself. There are plenty of modes of transportation to get to the warmth at your disposal.
But what if. It’s the what ifs that always get me. What if this is my one moment for greatness with another human being? What if I’m giving up if I don’t seize the moment and get on the ship. What’s a little seasickness if ultimately I get to that place I dreamed of for so long?
So, at a friend’s wedding this summer, I got on board the ex-boyfriend ship. And let me tell you that ship had sailed but I forced my way on and it sank to the bottom of the fucking ocean. No, it didn’t just sink, it combusted and burned all the way down.
What a metaphor! If only I recognized this earlier. But even armored with this knowledge, when your best friend cries to you, when he weeps in your arms, when the man you would have married tells you he loves you and wants to be part of your life- well, how do you combat that?
The last story I posted is how I hoped the wedding would go down. I wanted everything to be perfect and to avoid all awkward situations with ex-boyfriend. The more I told my friends that ex-boyfriend was a figure of the past who I had moved on from, the more I realized I was only trying to convince myself. But when my planned date couldn’t make it to the wedding, I started to worry. I knew, instantly, things would not go as planned.
Ready for the story?
-Anastasia Beam
Filed under: douche baggery | Tags: alexis, boyfriends, dating, girlfriend, relationships, sex, sex-ting, tequila, women
I never wanted to become the “other woman.”
It all began very innocently.
Two drunk friends upping the stakes of a regular game of fooseball. If he won, I’d kiss him, if I won… well I don’t think I got anything out of it. Doesn’t matter anyways, I lost and had to kiss him. Innocent turned into PG 13 when one kiss turned into full make-out outside in the freezing Wisconsin winter air.
Ah, but how innocent kissing turned into fucking. At his parent’s house by the way. While his mom was home. It was magical. Especially since she came and watched TV with us later…
The post-sex awkwardness did not exist. I don’t live there, so we remained friends and parted ways. It was one of those post-sex-high-five then peace out situations, very unattached and unemotional. That is my favorite situation. Of course, now every time I go back to visit I have a fuck buddy.
The second time I had a vacation romp with my old friend was during a family wedding that I swung by his work and had a little fun. His work? A funeral home. Enough said.
We didn’t really keep in touch in between our wild sexual encounters, until one day when he out of the blue emailed me. Thus beginning our email/texting long distance sex game.
We were both young, single and bored. Why not send naked pictures and talk dirty?
I had never done the cyber sex thing so I was nervous. The first picture I sent was of my butt. Very PG 13. I kept it this way out of fear that he’d show our mutual friends or he’d send them to my father. All of which would be a bad situation. We continued on the PG 13 track for months, just emailing pictures, nothing too exciting. Plus he would always mention how much “fun” we had during my visits. To be honest, the sex wasn’t great, but I enjoy the concept of having vacation sex.
After a few months of our email affair, the emails ended. I heard through the grapevine he got a girlfriend. I was bored of the cyber sex anyways, so it was good for me. Plus my fear of them ending up on facebook kept me from wanting more.
One night however, after I had stumbled home from the bar at 5am NYC time, I got a text.
“How are you? I miss our fun.”
Huh, maybe he broke up with the chica.
In fact, no he hadn’t. He still wanted to do pictures. Turns out, after two months of dating the girl, he wanted more of my action. Something I wouldn’t have wanted to offer if I was sober. Three shots of tequila and two gin martinis said different. Alcohol = horny. And I was alone.
The filter I had the previous months flew out the window as did my morals. PG 13 turned to R. He could ask me to take a picture of anything and I did it. Of course he reciprocated. Once I sobered up, I freaked out about the girlfriend thing. He said he deleted the pictures and she’d never know. What a classy fella.
In my drunken/depression months of early 2008, this continued often. Sex-ting had become the only relationship that I had. I never wanted to be the other woman and I never actually slept with him again, but I still felt like we were cheating.
Now, more than a year later it hasn’t stopped. And he is now engaged. I’ve gotten him to stop for months by saying I didn’t want to do it anymore, but he is addicted I think. He will ask me if I want a picture, I will say no and he will send one anyways. I have so many penis pictures on my phone, it’s disturbing. I delete them when I remember. He doesn’t even send them at appropriate times, like 3am on a Saturday. Now they come when I’m having dinner with my parents, or eating breakfast on a Tuesday. It’s very strange. He has put me in the category of the “other” woman and I don’t know how to get out of it. And he’s ENGAGED!
He talks about wanting to fuck me when I come visit, I just don’t know how someone can be engaged, yet completely dishonest.
I don’t reciprocate anymore with the pictures or sex conversations, but when I get drunk… well lets just hope I don’t get that drunk again.
I really don’t find looking at penis pictures to be any sort of a turn on, so I am unsure as to why he keeps sending them!
- Alexis Patron
Filed under: this and that | Tags: alexis, boyfriends, dating, men, relationships, sex, sex-ting, women
I admit that I have wondered what it would be like to be the “other woman,” but never have done it, nor do I think I would. Well, I did “accidentally” make-out with my boss who had a girlfriend, but that was just a drunken time. I’ve never dated a married man. I just don’t think I could do that. The problem is, however, I’m pretty damn close to having an affair with a taken man. And I don’t know how I ended up there.
I read the following article yesterday and decided I should write about my “sex-ting” relationship I’ve been in for the last two years. Read this article and look forward to my story about how an innocent boob shot sent to a single man, turned into years of sex-ting with a now engaged man. Oh how does it happen…
- Alexis Patron
CNN – and the lessons they teach…
Thinking about being the ‘other woman?’
Like the David Letterman Debacle wasn’t bad enough, now we have the story of Steve Phillips, the ESPN analyst, who had an affair with a 22-year-old coworker.
Unfortunately for the 46-year-old sports dude and married father of four, his latest dalliance (and apparently there’ve been others before her) turned bunny boiler when he broke it off with her.
Brooke Hundley, the jilted junior, allegedly went ballistic; repeatedly emailing and calling Phillips’ long-suffering wife, tricking their 16-year-old son into an online flirtation, and then finally showing up at the family home, scaring the crap out of everyone.
Lucky for Hundley, the Phillips’s declined to press charges, but her reputation, both professionally and personally, is shot. (His too. He’s since been fired from ESPN and has entered a treatment facility.) Obviously, being some cad’s side action is always a sucker’s game, but if you’re going to do it, do it right.
Choose carefully
It’s bad enough that you’re “dating” a married guy, but when you start sleeping with someone who’s in a position of authority over you, you’re screwing yourself twice. Every good grade will be chalked up to your romance with the professor and every promotion, credited to time served on your back. Don’t kid yourself that nobody in your class or office knows, because people aren’t blind and you’re not that slick.
Don’t go home with him
Maybe he’s too cheap to pay for a hotel room, could be he secretly wants to get caught . . . then again, maybe he’s just a sociopath, but I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve heard about a marriage dude bringing his girlfriend back to the house he shares with his wife and kids — usually when everyone’s out of town, but not always. Letterman even took his mistress on vacation with his family! Whatever his motivation, resist. You’re already hurting this woman by having sex with her husband; at least have the decency to stay out of the bed they share.
Accept that you’re No. 2
Married guys will tell you a lot of things in their quest to bed you. That they haven’t slept with their [insert bitchy descriptor here] wives for [insert insanely long period of time here] and that they’re only staying together for the [kids/finances/etc.].
You need to know going in that you will always come second. (Or third. Or fourth.) Sure, you might get expensive gifts, but you’ll also be spending nearly every holiday by your lonesome, you’ll never meet his friends, and plans will be canceled on a moment’s notice if something more important (i.e., anything) comes up.
You’re not his first . . .
When an acquaintance of mine started an affair with a married coworker, she was furious when I suggested this might not be the first time he’d strayed during his very long marriage. She screamed that I was a cynic and that their love was a special flower they alone shared. (On the conference room floor.) Okay, she didn’t use the term “special flower,” but that was the gist.
A week later I got an embarrassed call back reporting that, contrary to what he’d told her, he’d been straying since his wedding day. A cheat and a liar — who would’ve guessed?!
…And probably won’t be his last
Most guys don’t leave their wives for the women they’re seeing on the side. Yes, I know — your grand passion is “different.” Snort. But what if he actually does splinter the family into bits and make a (semi) honest woman out of you? According to the Web site, “Beyond Affairs,” only 3 percent of men marry their affair partner and out of those, only 3 percent of those marriages last. And why would they? You’re committing to a relationship that was built on lies and deceit.
On second thought, maybe you want to rethink this whole “other woman” thing.
