That is such a sad world!
I mean, I'm sorry <bites his tongue>. Perhaps its cause I'm in a relatively protected world, or perhaps its a cultural thing, like I said.
I've been on evenings out with girls countless times throughout my 20s. Dates are not necessarily about leading up to sex - first of all, they're about getting to know the other and see if you like him (her). And just as often as not, what that leads up to is friendship, not sex.
So I dunno. The cultural thing here could be, like, in the world I've known (say, Dutch students of, like, my kind - oh, come to think of it, it probly had to do with not having the money to hang out in bars all night, too), its nice to hang out in a bar, but its also perfectly acceptable to, I dunno - invite someone over for dinner or just to hang out at home for the (rest of the) evening. Just cause you like someone - in whichever way. <shrugs>
I mean, thats how I see it.
Like, ebrown, I'm making kinda the opposite point of what you pick up on ("men are animals" etc). I'm saying, if a girl wants to have sex, I mean, we're in the year two-thousand-what now?, she'll let you know. Nothing wrong with just saying I want your sex / I want to make love, either, right?
Meanwhile, I can imagine it's just exasperating to have these men around, who think that you want them in your pants already, just cause you invite them over for a coffee! I mean - channeling some of my female friends here - fer chrissakes, if I want your sex, I'll tell you, or show you, OK?
Heh.
That was more like where I was coming from ... and I think its sad if any girl has to go, oh, I'd better not ask him over / wear too short a skirt / ask him dancing rather than just out for a drink /whichever thing some boor might take the wrong way - just cause you never know what kinda hidden message they're gonna all project onto that, and what kind of trouble you might thus get into over it.
Word. <grins>
Which comedian wrote: When a man and a woman go out on a date only one of them knows for sure if the evening's going to end with sex.....?
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Once upon a time:
I went out three afternoons with this really nice California girl or rather we stayed in my friend Laura's apartment after meeting at the complex's pool. We tried every position possible, twice. [Note: this was late sixties and everyone was a little high or a little nuts or both.] At the end of the third um date, she said "It still early. Let's go to where I live." I was very happy. She drove us to this very nice neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of a medium-sized house. I was very impressed. We walked in the front door and I could see a TV flickering just beyond the back of a big fluffy sofa upon which sat her mom, her dad and her little sister. I think Laugh-in was on or This Was The Week That Was, but we had to wait until the show was over before there were any introductions. Respect, she whispered.
They were very nice people, mom and dad were and their daughter was very careful not to hold my hand while we were in their presence. I was invited to Sunday dinner after Morning Mass. I smiled a lot.
She and I met a few more times at my friend's then one early evening I knocked on the door and she answered that Laura wasn't home.
Long pause....
"Okay." I said. "I'll try back later." but I didn't.
I'm not sure if she married that guy or someone else, but I sure enjoyed the auditions.
Joe
I was in my mid-20s, very happily divorced and new to the singles dating scene. (I was a "good girl" who had married in college.) I remember being shocked to find out how easy it was to pick up guys in bars. Shocked, I tell you! There was this one...
Gorgeous. Absolutely freakin' gorgeous. Tall, muscular, vivid green eyes, wavy black hair and beard with gray streaks. A completely wild character. He was so totally opposite anyone I'd ever been with. He took my breath away for about two weeks.
Then the mist began to clear and I began to see him for what he was...a good looking redneck with an oversized ego and a profound lack of intelligence. (sigh...what a waste...)
I was a wine drinker, an art major, a semi-sophisticate. He was a transplanted country boy. I listened to NPR. He listened to Hank Williams, Jr. So he and his hunting buddies decided to take the "little women" out to the lake camping one weekend. Placing my tongue firmly in cheek, I grinned and went along with it. I could hardly wait to see how the "other half" lived.
He and his bunch of redneck friends decided to show off for us "gals" by shooting their black powder shotguns at a few beer bottles set up on fence posts. Durn shotguns, they were so heavy after a few minutes of shooting that they could barely hold them up, much less hit anything. And it took a loooong time to reload. I was getting very bored after about 15 minutes of watching them miss shots and excuse themselves.
Finally, in my best Blanche du Bois voice, I asked if I might try. Loud guffaws from the rednecks. I insisted I wanted to try, so they decided to humor me. They handed me a shotgun and started to explain to me how to use it, but I didn't listen. I just walked off a little ways, shouldered it, and blasted the hell out of a bottle on the far end of the fence row. Then I walked back and handed them the shotgun without cracking a smile. (It was hard.) My "date" pulled me over behind one of the pickup trucks and asked me where I'd learned to shoot like that. So I told him my dad had two sharpshooter medals from WWII, and he'd taught me.
Well! It seems I had embarrassed my "date" to death. His buddies started razzing him something terrible, so we had to leave quickly after that. I think it was on the drive back to town that we both figured out this wasn't going anywhere.
I asked him to come over for dinner (I'd cook...steaks, even!) a couple of days later, and the louse was two hours late. When he finally showed up, I gave him a bowl of corn flakes. He just stared at the bowl and said, "I deserve that." Then he said, "This isn't gonna work. You're just too good for me." I agreed with him, gave him one last kiss, then showed him the door.
Damn, I missed those green eyes, though. :wink:
LOL! Damn Eva! That was beautiful :-D ;-)
ehBeth wrote:OCCOM BILL wrote: "Do you want to come inside for a little while, just for coffee mind you" with a stern inquisitive look.
When did we go out?
I can never keep track of these things. You must teach a class or something, though, because you have many followers. :wink:
There you go, ehBeth, a way to retire from the fray and get recompense for being yourself...
<agreeing with what nimh has been saying>
I think it's a scene thing -- young poor college students vs. bar scene. One of the first times I was hanging out with E.G. (though not a date, mind you), we went up to my room for some reason, and I was hot, and took off my shirt and was wearing just a bra. Now, that really seems like it would be a message, I realize that, but seriously, in that mileu it meant nothing (at least I kept my bra on in that clothes-optional place) and he didn't take it to mean anything in particular. It was 90 degrees. Big whoop.
Anyway, I've never ever really done the dating scene, just hang out with people who develop into friends, more than friends, or not even friends, and I understand that the dating scene/ bar scene is a different story.
