Sunday, August 14, 2005

How Do I Reject Thee, Let me Count the Ways

I really hate to be put on the spot. Especially by random strangers who make unqualified assumptions about me and subsequently try to desperately slobber all over my leg. So for the record: Just because I flirt outrageously, grind my hips against inanimate objects and maintain a sex blog doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with anything that moves. Or anyone that leaves a despondent comment on this blog, for that matter.

Recently however, I made the mistake of being caught in an awkward situation where I had to reject someone - let's call him Calvin - who just persisted (and persisted...and persisted!) in trying to get me to cuff him, spank him and perform some weird anal probe ritual.

Usually at the establishments I frequent (you know which ones, I should demand a fee for all the free publicity), this behaviour would not have been tolerated even 5 minutes without my bouncer friends lending a hand, courtesy of a shove out the door.

However with Calvin, the situation was slightly different. Clever me had agreed to let him pick me up in his big black SUV, so there was no easy escape route.

Calvin and I barely knew each other. And I had quite innocently suggested we go for coffee to get better acquainted. Alas, he must have gotten a different impression. Because within minutes of me climbing into the front seat, he was eagerly pulling out his S/M cuffs (suspiciously greasy), a riding crop (reasonably used), nipple clamps (ouch) and a very crumpled-up ball of black stockings (his!) from his black gym bag of tricks. Obviously, this guy was a maven at making subtle introductions.

I should have realised that I had made a mistake by then. I thought: Hi Calvin, nice to meet you too. Here's a Scooby snack for being so presumptous. Fuck off. But instead, being the polite, open-minded, well-brought up gal that I am, I oohed and aahed, doing my best to look interested and quelling the urge to scrub myself with sanitiser.

To be fair, we did end up going for coffee and a quick chat, which started out fairly innocuous. However, when the conversation swung to whether I found fecal matter erotic (which I really REALLY do not, and I would much rather we talk about the weather), I realised there was nowhere to go but steadily downhill. I finished my drink and got back into Calvin's car, slightly relieved at the prospect of going home.

But as you would have already predicted, it was not to be.

"So where do you want to go? Straight to my place? Or we can go to some beach to get pissed drunk, first?"Calvin was not the sort of guy to leave things to chance.

"Err...I'm going to be really honest with you ok? I think we get along great and I had a nice time chatting over coffee, but I'm just not attracted to you. Sorry." I decided the brutal truth was the best approach to take with him. Besides as a rule, I don't subscribe to all that coy, faux-virginal Asian female I-don't-do-it-on-the-first-date stuff.

"But...What...? But...come on. We're both open-minded people, we have great chats, looking for a bit of fun, enjoy sex. What's the matter?" Splutter splutter.

"Look, I get along great with lots of people. It doesn't mean I want to sleep with every one of them," I said. "This really isn't a difficult concept."

"But there aren't that many people who are equally open-minded, can have great chats...." Yadda yadda yadda. He must have repeated that whole refrain about 10 times. It was getting tedious. And exasperating. But because I was stuck in his car, I had to paste a wide, Ronald McDonald smile on my face and look like I was giving ear to his childish protestations.

At some point, I suggested politely that he drop me off home. But he - equally politely - ignored my request and drove us to Sentosa, where we parked at the Tanjong Beach lot and started negotiating like an old married couple. The quintessential Husband who wants kinky sex, and Wife with the headache. It was really ridiculous. Couldn't this guy understand that there was no way I would suddenly be smitten by him, no matter how hard and long we talked about it? By forcing me to analyse and deconstruct my non-attraction, he was making me sound like a bad jewelry-box tune.

"Its not like I want to have a relationship. It's just about getting off," he said. I could tell he was grasping at straws.

"Look, if my life aim was to just get off, then I'd rather masturbate. If I'm with someone, even if it's just a gratuitous shag, I still need to be with someone I'm really into," I said, a certain degree of resignation creeping into my voice. Seesh, its guys like Calvin that make women lie about going on holiday and never coming back.

"Well, Disappointment is a word that's coming to mind now. I mean, you don't even have to do anything. Just chain me up and treat me badly. How hard is that? And maybe lie there while I lick your pussy," he was almost pleading with me. "Or watch me wank off....You don't want to even want to watch me wank off??"

Hello, I thought. I'm 26, I went to college? You'd think I'd be smart or at least, mature enough not to fall for the whole Pity Sex argument by now, so why bother trying.

And then, seeing that 'eloquence' was getting him nowhere, He leaned over and tried to kiss me. Before I could stop him, his fleshy hand slipped underneath my dress like an eel and he sqeezed and twisted my nipple, watching it intently to see if it would harden. He looked up at me, seeking reassurance that I was being turned on by this.

I concealed my distate. That was pretty much the last straw. Still, I had to be practical. It was a long walk from Sentosa to the main road and not a journey I was looking forward to making by myself. In 3-inch heels. So I looked at him stonily and firmly repeated that I wanted to be dropped home. There was no trace of smile in my voice this time. And I followed up with a relatively threatening and sullen silence. At last, he could tell his time was up. Thank God (and I'm not even religious).

So some key learnings, which I've put in an easy reading format because I'm tired of even blogging about this episode already:

Bullet Point #1 Over-persistence really doesn't work well with me, Desperation is even worse. Look, if I girl says she's not interested, she'll have much much more respect for you if you are just man enough to accept it. She might even try to be friends and show you her fanny (or is that only me?).

Bullet Point #2 Patience is not a virtue that I possess in abundance. And in future, if you ever corner me in a small, enclosed space with your bag full of implements and a head full of presumptions, I promise you, there will be a small brick in my handbag you will quickly become fast friends with.

Appendix 1.1 I prefer to deal with lawsuits and restraining orders rather than waste my time, breath, brain cells and soon-to-be professional negotiating skills with men who need help looking up No in the dictionary. So there.

Refer to first principles Even Dogs Have Dignity and Life Is Too Short if you have any questions.