Obviously For Some…Just Not Hard Enough

Two weeks before Valentine’s Day…though I am not really all too excited. I am viewing it as just another day. Well, I guess that’s because I am single. How cliche, you might think, but I swear I’ve got my reasons. Last year I had a boyfriend and was living in a foreign city.

I’m not having much luck in New York so I think that if dating in New York fails that perhaps next year I will try being single while living abroad. Eh, screw it, I have truly found that men are the same around the world; only the scenery changes. Bright sunshine, warm weather, and tan skin just seem to make a bad situation more bearable.

Last year, I had a bit of affection and not much sex…ok, I can’t lie…no sex. I could count on one hand how many times I was laid over a five month period. Strangely enough, this V-day, though I am not expecting flowers, dinner, or seeing a film…though I am looking forward to a crazy evening of lustful bliss. Say what you may, but fuck buddies are in.

I met Adam a few years ago and he was my first and only Internet dating experience. We went out for drinks one evening and decided there was definitely an attraction, though we were totally incompatible for anything other than a sexual relationship. Quite simply we had great sex and have kept it that way for the past few years and what a great way to see the city from so many different boardrooms, rooftops, boiler rooms…You get the picture?

Plus, if I continue calling on Adam when I am not involved exclusively with anyone, I don’t worry about sleeping around. My principles aren’t compromised and I am completely satisfied. What a wonderful world! When involved in a relationship, I am quite a loyal girlfriend. Though when single in this city, it can’t hurt to call in the reserves, when necessary.

I am still reflecting on Adam’s and my latest “date” when I walk into my apartment, which I share with Ruby, who is in the bathtub buried beneath a mountain of bubbles and on her way to the finish line at the bottom of yet another Ben and Jerry’s pint.

The poor girl is considering breaking up with a boy…er…man…whom I have blessed with the moniker–Limpdick. Poor Ruby…I would love to tell her about my latest “date” at The Lincoln Building…the beautiful view from his office on the 52nd floor is enough to get me hot and bothered…and…mmm…I must say…the man is talented …WAIT! FOCUS!

“Ruby”, I say, “ice cream and the hot bubble bath are great…though we both know his soft serve is not your flavor”, as I scoop another mouthful of Chunky Monkey from the pint, “no matter the topping, he will never satisfy you”.-Frankie

Dating is hard enough, but dating in NYC is harder

It is two weeks before Valentine’s Day, quite possibly the most miserable day of all. No, ironically enough I’m not single, but I’m considering being single.

It wasn’t that long ago that I was. Only six months, but I’m down to my last pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, I swear ( I’ve eaten about 20 in the past month and a half). As I sit in a steamy hot bubble bath (the perfect place to eat ice cream during the winter), I’m wondering how this happened to me, why I always meet the wrong men, and if there is something wrong with me.

So this guy…what can I tell you? My roommate, Frankie and I call him limp dick, because its rather true.

Limp Dick and I met over drinks and appetizers at House during a work venue. I work in publishing where everything is quite incestuous, but I had never seen him before. Now we’ve been seriously dating for six months. Six months is kind of a deadline. It’s either stay or go. It’s either going to work out or it isn’t. And even though after six months, he has been the perfect gentleman and does everything right socially, I’m really considering dropping this relationship because sex is that bad.

Seriously, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but it’s definitely his issue. I’m not a nympho or anything, but come on! We are dating; I’ve got blood pumping! He was perfect, except for sex or the lack of thereof. Seriously, the other day I greeted him at the door of the apartment in black high heels and a black silk thong, and the man thought I just got out of the shower and told me he would come back in ten minutes. Really! So he’s 28 and impotent, super Catholic, or in the closet.

Limp dick was never really into sex. When we first started fooling around he wanted to “slow down”. We laughed, we talked, and we became great friends. The first time he froze up. He just hung there like meat in a freezer. I tried a few um things… the usual. Its never failed before, but he might as well have yawned. So I decided to spice it up. I bought porn, I bought sex toys (that I wound up using on myself), underwear. Nothing worked. He wouldn’t go down on me because he didn’t understand the workings of a woman’s “yoo-hoo”. So I got him a book. It was quite mechanical. In; out. In; out.

So I told my roommate, Frankie.

“Dump him,” she said. “Not worth the trouble. Damn, that was a waste of six months,” she added.

“You’re right,” I said. “I’ve had better sex with women. I don’t need this,” I added.

Well, that was two weeks ago and here I am in the bathtub with Chunky Monkey dripping down my chin and into my bubbly bath water.

“Damn, Ruby. It’s steamy in here. Oh, yeah, it’s decision time is it. Six months. So dump him babe,” Frankie said as she walked into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet.

“I know. But what if I never meet anyone,” I said.

We both laughed.

“Oh Chaquita banana, you know that ain’t happening,” Frankie said grabbing the spoon from my ice cream and shoving a spoonful into her mouth.–Ruby