Immediately after the best trick-or-treating session ever, I attended a friend’s Halloween house party. There was a good cross-section of friends and strangers (a ninja, a sexy bumblebee, a priest, a steampunk rocker, a cowboy with a flesh-wound, Will Smith from Independence Day, DD as a dirty cop, Nene wearing a mask that can be found in Justin Bieber’s music video What Do You Mean – don’t ask me how I know that…)

My eye was drawn to the tallest guy in the room. Good posture, filled out a suit nicely, all things that are important when being superficial and judging someone purely on their looks. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one impressed… most of the ladies in the room were around him. That rankled – I refuse to compete for a guy’s attention. So, after chatting with him briefly, I drifted away to have a great convo with the wounded cowboy and the steampunk rocker. While I occasionally interacted with the Designated Hottie, long enough for him to hear the Vegas stories straight from DD herself and be intrigued by her “vanilla with chocolate sprinkles” comment, I was a social butterfly, and talked everyone present. A hot guy does not make me lose my manners. #mymommaraisedmewell

As the night progressed, Designated Hottie drifted more frequently into my orbit. Many drinks later, Designated Hottie suggested we step outside, to cool down, as it was quite warm in the house. Smirking, I followed him out, and we went on a walk that inevitably resulted in a torrid make-out session. I hadn’t kissed a guy in 17 months – that is how bad my dating life has been. I was worried for about 10 seconds that I had forgotten how it works, but then I relaxed and had a lot of fun. He definitely knew what he was doing.

After a protracted spit-swapping session, Designated Hottie asked me to go home with him. I said no. More making out. He asked again. I said no. He asked why? The first thing that came to mind was chagrin that I hadn’t taken more time during my morning shower to properly “groom” myself. But seriously now, with my history – why bother? Obviously, I wasn’t about to tell Designated Hottie that. So, instead I told him the second truest reason why I wouldn’t go home with him: I don’t sleep around.

Designated Hottie tried every possible gambit in the book:

• He really liked me, he didn’t necessarily want to sleep with me, we could just spend time together. After all, he couldn’t force me to sleep with him. I laughed, thinking he was being funny, pointing out my relief that he was aware of that, because otherwise it would be rape. He got irritated with me for saying the R-word;
• Why was I breaking the flow? He was a big believer in flow;
• Why couldn’t I give him a real, GOOD reason why I wouldn’t spend the night with him? He couldn’t accept such a flimsy reason as the one I was giving him;
• Why was I so scared to take a risk and trust? If I always lived life so cautiously, I would miss out on great things!

That last one is a frequent topic of discussion with my therapist. I decided, why not? I could take a risk! Maybe I should let loose and see where the night took me? I accepted Dedicated Hottie’s offer.

Just prior to re-entering my friend’s house, I suddenly got very angry. Here I was, about to let some dude play on my insecurities about my Vanilla lifestyle and convince me to do something that was against my values. This same dude seemed unaware that recognizing that rape wasn’t an option is not, in itself, something commendable, just as he was unaware that RANKING MY REASONS FOR NOT WANTING TO SLEEP WITH HIM IS NOT OK. NOT OK, DUDE. 

So I told him: I was done, and that was that. We re-entered the house party, and I ignored him.

I had trouble having fun. I was shaken by what had just happened. I kept my distance from him, stayed long enough to convince everyone I was a happy party animal, and left.

He’d noted my mood, and asked to speak to me before I left – I expected an apology. Instead, he tried convincing me one last time to spend the night with him, asking WHY I would walk away from something that was bound to be good and special. Exasperated, I told him that I firmly believed in a universe where a guy might find me special enough to wait for, even if he didn’t understand my reasons for not sleeping with him right away. Anything else didn’t interest me. Humbled, he understood. He told me he would text me the next day, and that he wanted to see me again. We kissed goodnight. I went home. Alone. 

He added me on Facebook the next morning. He liked a picture I was tagged in. He texted me while I was out with friends; I told him I would text him later on. He didn’t respond to any of my subsequent texts. I noticed he’d added all of the girls present at the party.

Curious, I asked DD if Designated Hottie had returned to the party after I’d left. He had. He’d also cornered DD outside and kissed her, and then harrassed her to go home with him. When she refused, he asked her what her reason was. She told him she was too drunk, and he told her that wasn’t a good enough reason. DUDE, YOU NEED TO REVISIT THE CONCEPT OF CONSENT. STAT.

Also, can somebody explain to me his thought process? He’d just spent 5 hours partying with me & DD. He’d seen and heard just how good friends we were. What was he thinking? Did he not expect us to talk to each other about our night?! I feel that was poor planning on his part.

Men.

I just don’t understand them.

#vanillaftwmotherfucker