Just Jump

Mr. Tuesday calling late wasn’t anything surprising.  Most of our conversations happen after 10pm anyways.  It was really nice knowing there was someone who actually wanted to talk and get to know me.  We were becoming friends, which I liked very much.  Like I said, he was way too charming and funny NOT to want to keep.

We made standard polite chitchat then in his typically charming fashion he cracked one of his terribly cheesy jokes and I cringed and laughed at the same time.  We started talking about our first date and how we were both very remorseful about it ending a little too prematurely.  I told him that he was a great kisser and that I could have done SO MUCH more.  He agreed.  We both sighed at the same time then silence…

In my mind I was recalling that night and imagining all the things that would have happened had I stayed longer.  I pressed my thighs together and felt myself getting tight down there.  I pipe up and say with hopeful questioning…

ME:

I’m okay with the whole friends with benefits thing if that’s what you want. 

HIM:

Yeah, yeah…we could do that.  That’s fine…friends…that mouth of yours….mmm…

Mr. Tuesday’s voice got a little low and husky now.

We sexually teased each other back and forth again about what we liked.  Hot and bothered doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling now.  My lower lip was raw from biting and my panties completely soaked.

HIM:

You should come to my place.

He jokingly said.

ME:

Uhhh…I think you should come to mine.  I’ve already been to your place.

HIM:

My place is better.

ME:

WHY?  What is it about a dude’s place that makes it better?

HIM:

It’s just better.  Guys just like being in their space.  Ha…you gonna come over?

I was giggling now.

ME:

NO!  It’s really late but fucker, you made me totally horny, you bastard.

HIM:

Awww…come on….come over…

It was now almost one in the morning.  I knew that it was very late.  I knew that he was completely teasing me about coming over.  I knew that I wanted to see him again to feel his lips against mine - amongst other things on my body. The cogs in my head suddenly spun in a completely different direction and clicked into a place very uncharacteristic of me.  I have no clue what made me so bold to say I what I said next…

ME:

Okay.  I’ll come over.

HIM:

Wait…WHAT?

ME:

I said yeah.  I’ll come over.  I need your address.

HIM:

Are you being serious?

ME:

Yes.  Don’t you want me to come over?

HIM:

Fuck.  Of course!

ME:

Okay.  I’m going to get ready.  See you soon.

I hung up before I could change my mind.  Then I realized that he never gave me his address, so I text him.  He immediately calls me back instead.

ME:

Hey…I need your address fucker.

HIM:

I’m not sure this is a good idea.

ME:

Why?  Is it because it’s so late?

HIM:

No.  I just don’t want to make it weird between us.  The friendship is important to me.

My shoulders slump in disappointment.

ME:

Okay…if that’s what you want.  I don’t want to make it weird between us either but I’m totally okay with friends with benefits…you know that….but that’s fine…it’s all good.

Damn.  Sigh.

HIM:

It’s not that I don’t want you…it’s just…(long pause)…it’s just that I don’t believe it would be respectful because I think the world of you.

Always a gentleman that fucker.

ME:

I’m 100% okay with the friends with benefits thing, but if it will make our friendship weird then don’t worry about it.  It’s all good…I understand.

HIM:

Umm…I think…hmmm…you know what…FUCK IT.  Just come over.  Even if nothing happens we can just cuddle in bed.

HOLY SHIT. 

ME:

Okay…but it’s alright if you don’t want me to come over. It’s totally fine.  I don’t want it to be weird between us.

HIM:

No…no…just come over.  It’s fine.

ME:

Okay text me your address and I should be at your place in about half an hour.

HIM:

Okay.  See ya soon.

HOLY FUCK!  I’m really gonna do this.  I’m going to his place in the middle of the night.  This is fucking CRAZY!  MENTAL!

Okay.  Breathe.  Deep breaths.  You just jumped off a cliff and are waiting to fly or crash.  Which one is it going to be girl?

WAIT!  FUUUUUCCCKKKK!

When one hasn’t engaged in any intimate physical activity in over 2 years there really isn’t a point in doing any kind of maintenance down the vagina way.  Now, with the possibility of that looming in less than an hour, one is in a desperate scramble to correct that severe oversight.

I quickly make my way to my ensuite and pray to God that I have razors.  Please, please…PLEASE!!!  I check the cupboard under the sink and collapse with tears of joy in my eyes when I see that there are still three brand new razors left.

I have never in my life spread my legs open and mowed the lawn so fast down there.  It was almost like watching a time-lapse video in ultra high speed.  I went through all THREE razors! It was THAT bad.  I pretty much shaved an Ewok off my crotch once I looked at the floor of my tub.

I put on a pair of cute panties, fitted dark jeans and a floral print deep V-neck cap sleeve top with NO bra-so classy I know-and a yellow cardigan.   Spritzed some perfume onto my cleavage, piled my hair into a bun and waited for the cab to arrive.

What I was doing to so incredibly uncharacteristic of me I was trying to reason with myself on the ride over.  I completely ignored all warning signs that what I was doing was a mistake.  That I wasn’t ready for anything close to this nature.  That bad shit is gonna come from it.  He’s practically a complete stranger.  I kicked those thoughts under the proverbial rug.  Just fucking live!   Enjoy the moment of spontaneity.  Just fuck it and hopefully him as well.  HA!

I text Mr. Tuesday to let him know I was on my way.

ME:

I am en route…if you feel weird about me coming over tell me now…I’m a big girl…

HIM:

It’s fine…

Phew. 

HIM:

Close?

ME:

I’m approaching your street…

HIM:

Okay…I’ll warn the neighbourhood

ME:

Hahahahaha!!!

HIM:

Snipers…Where are you?!

ME:

Fuck you!!!

HIM:

Ha!

Count on Mr. Tuesday for being consistently charming.  His comical texts put me somewhat at ease.  It wasn’t until I stepped out of the cab and walked into his building I began to have a SERIOUS anxiety attack.  

As I rode the elevator up to his floor I began to feel extremely light headed and began to dry heave.  Fuck me.  Not now!!!  I hobbled out and leaned my forehead against the cool metal doorframe of the elevator.  I closed my eyes and fought back the need to vomit.  I took four big breaths...in and out...then took four more, wiped the sweat off my brows and upper lip, gulped down the bile, straightened my back and tried to look as composed as I could.  I turned the corner and made my way down the hallway.

Mr. Tuesday opened the door to his place when I was about halfway down the hall.  I felt my chest tighten just a little bit when I saw him.  He looked adorable all barefoot in his grey plaid pajama bottoms and fitted grey T-shirt, eyes bright with an impish smirk on his face. 

HOLY FUCK.   This is really happening.

I giggled out a “Hey…” As he stepped aside and let me in...

Enter the Dragon

*Please note that I have used pseudonyms for all the sites mentioned here.

This online dating world scares the crap out of me. 

All the available sites to choose from feels so daunting.  I was going to go with that Fishing site but it looked too skuzzy.  Kindling, looked even more skuzzier.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m totally DTF but not in the spontaneous fashion as the young folk do it or the mega desperate.  However to be honest I’m leaning towards the latter considering that I haven’t been laid in years. 

I blame that constant yearn to my late night porn watching and Christian Grey.   He really did put a voodoo on my literary choices as of late.  I’m gonna have to go on a British reading bender once my sexual needs have been satisfied.

Back to this online dating thing…I tried for eComaptability but those bastards said I didn’t qualify because I am separated NOT divorced OR single, so I just signed up again using a different email address.   Hey!  It’s not as if I’m the only one who’s done this.  I also signed up with Similar.   Both legitimate sites I deduced based on the high production quality of their commercials on major TV networks.  It felt less desperate-housewife and more single-ready-to-mingle and with the possibility of sex after the appropriate timely courting.

I went through the motions of filling in my description based on the pre-selected options available.  Asian, curvy/a few extra pounds, 5’ 3”, non smoker, occasional drinker, spiritual but not religious, black hair, brown eyes, has kids, no pets and self-employed/baker/photographer.  I felt like I was applying for a beauty pageant.  A pageant for the lonely-hearts club where the winner gets the possibility of A) soul-mate for life, B) Friend-zone frenzy, C) heebie-jeebies or finally D) Oral orgy and more.  I’m looking for option D, however I have a feeling that option C will be more of my reality. 

After you enter all your basic stats you need to have a tag line; a statement to grab someone’s attention.  I can cut some serious wit and humor on my Facebook page because everyone I know on there knows me and well.  Not in the biblical sense but enough to know that I’m a complete open book and that I pretty much have no filter and that my love of British male model David Gandy is borderline fanatical, but we’ll save that for another time. 

I think that I’m confident conversing à la social media, but all that changes when you first meet me.  The real me is nothing like the social media me.  I’m incredibly shy, especially when in new environments/scenarios and VERY self-conscious. 

My physical disability is always the elephant in the room. 

How do I get someone to like me when I don’t even like myself? Especially now?  

Sash, a friend whom I’ve known for the last 15 years and is THE veteran when it comes to online dating, stepped in and helped me write my profile.   She kissed her fair share of frogs before finding her prince - surprise, surprise - via an online dating site.  Sash suggested that I disclose my disability right away.  I totally agreed with her.  She said it would weed out the pussies that didn’t have the balls to date a woman with my credentials. 

Hahahaha!  Credentials.  Girlfriends are ALWAYS good for an ego boost.  God I love this woman!  She told me that I have to keep the profile light and funny and just kiss the surface of what turns me on.  Below is my actual profile:

Photographer, baker and champion 3-legged racer.

I am a very able disabled person. Lost my right leg above the knee to cancer 7 years ago. If you can get over the first two statements then I already think you are awesome. :) 

I'm a former professional photographer who did commercial work and weddings. Post cancer I dabbled in a bit of baking which eventually became my main passion. There's something so gratifying about having someone taste what I've made that makes them roll their eyes and go weak in the knees with satisfaction. I'm a hardcore foodie. I've been known to wait in line for 3 hours in below zero temps just for a hot dog. (FYI--It was in Chicago...Hot Doug's for a foie gras hot dog with duck fat fries. So killer!) Cookbooks are my vice. My collection of them is vast and varied and I can throw a mean dinner party. I consider myself shy when meeting new people but I promise I'm anything but that once you get to know me. I'm looking for someone who doesn't mind changing things up last minute. I like going to museums, galleries and cultural landmarks but more so for their architecture then their art. I don't mind long drives to nowhere because that means there is conversation and music. I will admit that I like crappy pop tunes but big band and jazz have a soft spot in my heart. I'm a closet geek. So that superhero movie you're dying to see or that over complicated board game you need an extra player for, I'm so down for that. Staying in or going out as long as we're laughing it's perfect. 

They also ask what book you last read…

My reading profile is diverse but I shamefully admit I'm currently reading one of "those" books that have spawned post Fifty Shades of Grey. I know I'll have to read Aesop's Fables or the bio of Hillary Clinton to redeem myself.

So that’s it.   Me in 600+ words.  Words that are meant to ensnare men.  To enrapture them enough to make contact. 

Now this means shit if you don’t provide at least ONE photo of yourself.  One hot-ass photo at that.  Fuck. Do I even have a half decent photo of myself that doesn’t make me look like I don’t speak English, have a double chin, show my muffin top or that is actually HOT?  Hmmmm…I search my Facebook page for photos of just me with the most likes and kindly comments from my amazeball friends. 

I find one pic where I think I look cute.  My make-up and hair is on point and I’m smiling.  It’s from a night I was heading out to a girlfriend’s 40^th birthday party.  I think dudes like girls who smile, especially in their pics.   I make that my profile photo.  I also chose a full-body pic.  To not disclose what I look like, as a cripple would be kinda shitty, no? 

I find the pic where I have the smallest muffin top but is still fairly recent.  You see my crutches and I’m wearing a cowl neck green jersey ¾ sleeve top with a beautiful red, hand knitted infinity scarf made by TARO. I have tight jeans on.  The right side where my stump is, (yes, that is an actual medical term for the leftover bit of my leg) I have knotted up the denim so that I don’t trip. I have never bothered to cut any of my jeans or pants, as I have a crazy-ass dream that I’ll eventually get the leg I need and walk again. But we’ll save that bit for another time.

I look kinda meh, but it’s the best and most recent pic of me standing.  I’m going to run with those two photos first and see if they are man-catchy enough.

I let Sash review everything and it’s a thumbs up for her.  Let the Hunger Games begin…

Behind the Title

When I tell people that I have little to no experience dating even when I was a young padawan they are shocked.  No boyfriends in high school or college?  I answer with a resounding ‘NOPE’.  I was the token funny fat friend.  You know the one people wanna have around to laugh with or at? I was that ice breaker when a potential hook-up was unfolding before my eyes between two mutual friends.  I had to be happy for everyone else but what about me?  I probably seriously loved 3 dudes my whole life.  Two of the three didn’t pan out but it was more one sided and secret on my part.  Nothing like pining away for somebody you know you can’t have but are good friends with.  Fuck.  Brutal.

I ended up marrying the third guy.  I kind of changed my approach and made it known not only to his friends but also to him that I was totally into him.  I was a total pussy when it came to being assertive with the opposite sex prior to that. This guy, this guy for some reason was a game changer for me.  We were friends first so there was none of this awkward first date jitters.  Our relationship just organically progressed with some strategic nudging on my part.  He was the very first dude I slept with and consequently the ONLY one as well.  I kissed one other person before him and it was one of his best friends against the back wall of a club totally shitfaced.  I also only went down on one other dude aside from my now ex-husband.  All this went down when I was in my early 20’s.  I got married when I was 23 and that was it.  I was locked down.  I had a very good marriage for the first 10 years.  We had two beautiful children and another one on the way.  We were at a decent status quo then I got cancer.

I’ll give you the Coles Notes version because I want to keep things light and every time I have to retell what I went through I small piece of me gets really sad.  I was diagnosed with Melanoma.  I had just given birth to my youngest son.  It stemmed from a small, what I thought was a Planter’s Wart, little bump on the bottom of my right big toe.  By the time I saw the orthopaedic oncologist my condition was Stage IV and they had no choice but to amputate just above the knee.  Going through what I went through completely changed me.  My ex would say I turned into a bitch.  Well, that’s HIS interpretation.  No one, and I mean no one will ever be able to relate to what I went through and what I’m STILL going through unless you become a physically disabled person as an adult.  To make a long story short my marriage struggled since my diagnosis and amputation.  I finally called the time of death on the marriage and made the appropriate arrangements.  I’ve been officially separated for over a year and a half now. 

So…what brings me to the suffering of online dating?  My voracious appetite of smutty books led me to this depravity.  Reading about romance and sex made me crave it ten-fold.  I need sex or at least some kissing and heavy petting.  I haven’t gotten laid in 2 years so I’m basically shrivelling up and dying.  Well my vagina is.  One can only kegel for so long and it’s just not fun anymore.  I’m also tired of being alone.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my time by myself but it’s nice to have someone to be alone with.  Does that make sense?  What I really want is to sow my wild oats.  Never really got to do that when I was younger and able bodied.   Now that I’m old and crippled this will be quite the challenge.  I’m a bit afraid because my experience with men is practically nothing.  I’m basically Anastasia Steele but the chubby disabled version with a hellava lot dirtier mind and mouth.  I want to be more then ‘sorta been kissed’ after all.  I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.