Oh, for the love of pity shit, shut it.
Just for once, do something that you want to do.
There would be consequences.
Like what? Being an empowered woman who takes charge of her own sexuality for once? Letting go for a change? Not trying to control and manage everything? When’s the last time you actually felt good? Did something truly just for yourself?
“Fine,” I blurt after the longest internal battle. I’m not sure if that was my conscience because wouldn’t my conscience be counselling me against doing something this crazy? It must be my sneaky inner lady cave voice. My vaggy conscience?
“Fine?” John (that’s terrible, I really should have asked for his name, but there’s no turning back now) raises a brow. At least, I imagine he does again. His mask hides all of that, but his forehead has the cutest crease in it near his hairline where all that lush, silky, swept back dark hair is combed into a style that’s entirely fashionable.
“Fine. Yeah. Okay. One night. We’re adults. No names. No personal details. And your place, not mine. No strings. And, if you’re a murderer or a creeper, I swear I’m going to castrate you when we get there. I keep a can of pepper spray in this clutch, and a twelve-inch knife. I know that looks like it couldn’t fit in here, but it’s really compact. Like, it folds up. So. Just saying. You’re warned. And if you’re into kinky stuff or hidden cameras or being weird, then that’s a hard pass.” Wait, what? Ohhhh Myyyyyy Gooooooood, did I just say that? What’s wrong with me?
“Are you actually suggesting that we…” He points between us and now there’s a double crease on his forehead above his black mask. His lips are slightly parted, and I think that indicates surprise. Not disgust.
Please don’t let it be disgust. I can already feel the humiliation coming on like a swirling tornado about to fuck shit up, and honestly, I’ve had about as much of my personal life, my emotions, and my heart messed with lately as I’d care to experience. Ever. For the rest of my life.
“I think you suggested it. I don’t need a drink. I don’t need to dance. We should save us all the pretense of enjoying each other’s company all evening when what we really want is to leave. My date, who was supposed to be my Granny, ditched me to go on a business trip, so I guess that means that I have no one to tell me not to make bad decisions. So?”
My god, is that really me talking like that?
It’s my voice, but it sounds like it’s coming from someone else. I’m not flirting. I’m not being coy or using a syrupy voice or body language that would indicate that I’d like to take a perfect stranger home, or rather, go home with them. It’s the voice and tone I’d use at work, or when carrying on a conversation about anything at all, anywhere else.
“I’ve had a very bad year,” I feel the need to explain, because I know I’m turning scarlet here, and he can probably see it leaching out from around the corners of my mask. “Dating has been- well- I’ve had enough of that. Flirting. Pretenses. Drinks. A lovely evening. Fancy dinners. Even not so fancy dinners. Actually, any and all dates. I’m done with it. So, I’ve put in my appearance here. I’m going to bid on a few things in the silent auction because it’s no doubt for a good cause, then I’m going to get in a cab. If you want to join me, you can do that. If not, I’ll go home alone and sleep in my own bed, and that will be that. I don’t care either way.”
Liar. Oh my god, are you hearing yourself? Where is that coming from? The frustration is obvious, and the dates, we’ll give you a pass on that, but wow! Drop the cab thing like it’s hot, lady, way to gooooo! High five!
Okay, that’s definitely my va-jay talking to me, and if that’s actually happening, I might have a serious problem.
“Are you sure? I’ve never- uh- I’ve never done that before.”
Now it’s my turn to be shocked. “A one-night stand? But you- you were joking about it!”
“I can also joke about juggling eighteen coconuts. It doesn’t mean I have or that I can.”
Shit. Wow. “Oh. Okay. I- I’m sorry. That was presumptuous and rude. Maybe you’re the one guy out of the entire universe who isn’t an asshole. Although, having a one-night stand doesn’t make someone an asshole. I think it makes them smart. Professional. Everyone has urges and some people don’t want to date.” Oh my god, really? That’s very unsexy. “Or maybe you’re trying to back out now because you’ve had your fun and I’m not your flavor, even though you can’t really tell with a mask on. If you just wanted to buy me a drink and make small talk, I’m sorry that I can’t be obliged to waste your time. Or if you were just messing around, playing games, being a jerk, I guess I’m dodging a bullet. I’ll just…” I point over to the silent auction tables at the far end of the sprawling ballroom. “I’ll just go over there and bid on some things I don’t need and leave. It was nice talking to you. Uh- John. If you want to forget that this ever happened, even though you haven’t seen my face and don’t know my name, I’d be very much obliged.”