I’ve been accused in the past of being an outlandish flirt, might even go as far as saying a pick-up artist; in part because the idea of one night stands was "ordinary" to me...and of particular interest, and second (which might really be the reason for that first part), because I’ve managed to hook up with numerous women I either barely knew, or had no intent of getting to know past that moment in time.
That is customary of dominant dominican males; I’ve come to grips with it. Really I have. I understand that certain characteristics of my pseudo-persona I have little control over. For instance, I am able to have an incredible conversation with a complete stranger, and keep their attention for however long I may need to get their not-often present underwear around their ankles. Now, take me out of MY comfort zone of "getting in your pants" and challenge me to have a non-sexual conversation, with someone I am physically attracted to, and I am somewhat in a disadvantage.
Don’t get me wrong, by no means does this make me a socially inept person. I speak with great conviction and can be rather persuasive and conservant when speaking on any given topic. This is true mostly when that certain level of sexual magnetism and allurement is not present with whomever I am exchanging witty banter with.
That being said, I guess I’m not so great at picking up signals from girls who might actually be interested in something other than sex. And by signals, I mean blatant offers… Case in point:
It was an evening of firsts. First time I use my new laptop, first time visiting stickam (a friend linked me previously and encouraged me to sign up) first time using my webcam to speak with complete strangers, first time i met her.
She seemed great on paper: feminine, smart, sincere smile, long legs, beautiful by any standard. But from the moment she said hello, I could tell there was something not quite right about her. While browsing her online profile one night, I wondered how does a beautiful woman like this get to be 23 and single? I soon found out.
She was awkward, self-conscious, uncomfortable in her own skin. Mind you...she was incredibly beautiful, just like her pictures, but everything she said seemed forced, as if she’d just read a manual on how women are supposed to behave. She laughed just a beat too late when something funny happened, and then she laughed too loud, like someone who didn’t get the joke but was eater to prove how funny she thought it was all the same.
We talked for a couple weeks, and the more we talked, the more interested I became. She did however agree with me way too much. A pet peeve of mine, I chose to overlook this small, trivial detail. She ran at the mouth on certain topics (music and recreational drug use), but was suspiciously evasive on others particularly her dating past.
Word... Here I am, incredibly sexually, and non-sexually attracted to a woman I knew vaguely from the internet. By "know," I mean that I knew her name. She knew mine, and we’d exchanged the occasional LOL’s and witty conversational banter. That’s about it.
So we get to know one another a little better, and we share details of one anothers past lives. And at some part of the conversation I juggle with the thought of whether or not to divulge my non-sexual attraction to her. Mind you, the sexual attraction IS blatantly there, however my primary fascination unbeknown to her is due mainly to her charm, and sense of humor.
Now, like I said, not so much with the picking up on (blatant) signals.
So in a confident voice, I tell her, "im feeling emo, i’ll talk to you later." She of course questions the reason behind my sudden change of tone and direction. I respond, by simply not responding. I remain inaudable, my unspoken affection will stay just that... unspoken.
Something tells me this might be my last conversation with her.
Talib said it best..."USED TO HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT BEING TOO COMPLEX" ...word