When I was younger it was very easy for me to be fooled with a kind word and a smile. All a guy had to do was compliment me a few times, tell me how much he liked me and I was a smitten kitten. In all honesty, that hasn't changed much...but I've gotten a little bit quicker at sifting through the horse shit.
In my mid-20s I had just gotten out of a long relationship and was dating someone off an on. We were oil and water but he kept coming back. Once it was over for good I was feeling lonely and met a friend of a friend out at a bar one night. He was cute enough and he was, what seemed to be, very in touch with his emotional side. He even had a "cool" nickname. For all intents and purposes, let's call him "Zag".
Zag was going to school for psychology at the time, which says a lot, right? Unless you're going for your masters and above, you're just getting the degree to try and figure out why YOU'RE so fucked in the head. Another bonus is that you can seem completely smart to anyone who hasn't taken entry-level psych by reciting all sorts of Jung and Freud 101 bull shit.
Now, Zag and I dated for a few months and I thought everything was going very well. We went on dates, we talked on the phone a lot because it was back when you still had to pay $0.10 per text and we had lots of mediocre sex. Good times! (that's my sarcastic font).
I'm not now nor have I ever been a fan of wearing socks to bed to sleep, let alone to have sex. My apologies to no one because everyone looks funny in their business socks. Not even Ryan Reynolds or Joseph Gordon Levitt can pull that look off, although I'll welcome the chance to see them try. On this particular day, Zag must have been feeling somewhat lazy and chilly because he was wearing his mom's pink socks. She was and probably still is a woman with a very petite frame. He on the other hand was a little over six foot. It was that thing where the heels do that thing where they creep down on the arch of the foot where they get all bunched up and then the top of the sock is angled completely down in the back so that it meets the actual top of the heel. Not only were they too small and too pink but they were also too fuzzy. They were the aromatherapy type of socks that you buy your grandmom as a birthday gift because (inner dialogue alert) "What the shit am I supposed to get Gam Gam? I guess I'll just buy her some of these $4.99 socks on the end cap next to the toothpaste. I got her a candle for Christmas."
I digress. Let me repaint the picture. Tall naked guy, furry pink socks...let's move on to the mediocre sex that's somehow endurable because I like him and I believe he likes me. We go at it for, I don't know, ten minutes? Lots of foreplay with this guy (sarcasm, again). As soon as we're--I'm sorry--as soon as he's done, he looks at me while he's still inside me and says "I don't think this is working out". I can honestly say I was both speechless and dumbfounded. How could this asshole not tell me that eleven minutes ago? What had changed so fucking much from the last time we talked and hung out? I could still feel his limp dick deflating. It was one of those moments where your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach and you become flush with hurt and humiliation. My peripheral vision started to close in as the reality of the situation sunk in and he finally fell out--one of the lowest points in my dating life.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably more like three seconds, I was able to collect my thoughts. I began to scavenge for my clothes and dignity on the floor. When I looked up, I noticed he was still naked with those mother fucking socks on. My anger began to take over and I immediately clawed for the tiny bazooka-joe colored eyesores. When I had them off his feet, I jumped on top of him, shoved them right in his shitty little mouth and then told him to fuck off and die while bounding down the stairs with a feeling of empowerment...is what happened in my head as I was driving away.
The truth of the matter is that I gathered up my clothes while begging him to explain why he did what he just did and cried for three days straight.
