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The sushi I ate last night was subpar. The same thing can be said for the sake. On a cold rainy night in Chicago, I walked into the restaurant and I knew how my night was going to end up before I sat down. She had beat me to the table, and when she stood up to give me a hug I saw an outfit that, at least to me said, “If you don’t say anything too stupid tonight I’ll go home with you.” She had a high waisted black skirt on, a low cut white top with no bra, and a short black heel which really complimented her leggings well. In the dimly lit restaurant, you could hardly tell that I had been in a gory fight with a sidewalk just a few hours beforehand and for all intents and purposes, I was doing quite well.
The story about my tragic fall brought with it a lot of laughter and an ebb and flow of conversation that is rare for a first date. I didn’t ask her any questions about the “boyfriend” I had met on Friday night and she didn’t mention him. Together, we polished off two bottles of some bottom of the barrel sake, a couple sleeves of sushi, and a small order of sashimi because I fucking love sashimi. I wasn’t anywhere close to being drunk but I certainly wasn’t sober when, as we were walking out of the restaurant, I made my move.
I kissed her square on the mouth and she reciprocated. There was no hesitation or indication in any way that this girl was in a monogamous relationship with someone else. I got invited back to her apartment near the sushi restaurant and I didn’t have to explain why I won’t have a real mattress in my room until after Easter weekend. I’ll save you the gritty details of my encounter, but I will tell you that on a scale of 1 to dragon in the sack, she landed somewhere in the meaty part of the bell curve. I was back on my air mattress by 10:30 with a shit eating grin on my face and a belly full of mediocre sushi.
I got asked out on a date. I know it’s terribly disappointing to read about me actually succeeding, but that’s exactly what happened and I’m not going to sit here and pretend to be apologetic about it. It wasn’t a dinner between two friends and it certainly wasn’t a chance for her to have a “devil’s threeway.” Either this girl broke up with her boyfriend at some point between last Saturday and Wednesday night, or I just willingly participated in an act of adultery.
Most people I know have hooked up with someone who was in a relationship with someone else at the time of insertion and it’s never really been an issue. For one thing, if you’re the person hooking up with a guy or girl who has the significant other it’s really not your problem. That girl or guy who cheated has other issues to sort out, and they were a participant just as much as you were.
What do people expect me to do when I have a chance to have sex? Say no because she has a boyfriend that she obviously doesn’t like all that much? I’m an okay human being at best. I have empathy. I can be vulnerable and caring and all of that other bullshit but at the end of the day I’m not the one who has to sleep with a guilty conscience for cheating. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Call me a sleaze, a scumbag, or an asshole all you want but this isn’t on me. It’s on her. And I know I just said it, but I really think it bears repeating right now: I am not the one who cheated.
If it wasn’t with me it was going to be with someone else. Would I do it again? Probably not, to be honest. The sex was pretty meh, although the fact that she insisted on paying for half of the meal was really refreshing and a huge turn-on. If there’s anything this little fling has taught me, it’s that girls are awful people just like guys. Perhaps I’ll give her a call this weekend when I’m three sheets to the wind and not thinking clearly, but as of right now I’d rather remain a single man, unshackled by the expectations that come with the label of “boyfriend.” At least I can go to sleep at night knowing that no one is cheating on me. .
Respond
jduda@grandex.co
Totally ‘unhinged Duda’ has gone completely off the rails. Has about as much self-esteem as low energy Jeb(!) did on debate stage. Careful, or lyin’ Brittany’s boyfriend might come for that other cheek or treat him very, very rough like they did to protesters in the good old days. Very BAD!
Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep on your air mattress at night.
perfect response.
and dude, get a real mattress. come on.
Next article… I’m Engaging in the Chase: The Trials and Tribulations of Being a Side Dude
*Side Duda
Nice work, Sa’Quesha.
You may be a scummy human, but I do admire your persistence. If you put half the effort toward getting your shit together as you do toward getting laid, you’d be in a much better state.
I think at this point the wheels have come off and there’s no turning back. Our kids will be reading Engaging in the Chase about 53 year old Duda trying to pick up a 20 something chick at a Chicago nightclub
Nah there’s a ton of time for reform if he ever decides he wants it. He’s only 25 and it’s not like he’s a meth addict.
I dunno, I’ve seen some Intervention episodes where Meth addiction can be overcome…
Pussy is undefeated…
not yet he’s not.
I mean it seems like he has a job and pays his bills so that’s something. PS – Duda you stole that “bellcurve” line from Dillon you mook
Hate to go against the seemingly status quo of chastising Duda, but maybe does she just call Bouncer Man her boyfriend only because he lets her in the side door of clubs and not because she brings him home to family Christmas?
The real question is: did you wear a condom? Ha, just kidding, of course you didn’t.
I gotta wonder what his bloodwork is like. Hope JD gets tested at least regularly.
Duda – the hero we don’t deserve, the one we definitely don’t need, but the one we have.
The good news is you’re both scumbags so you’re probably meant to be. Congrats on finding the one, John. 2 million people in this city and you can’t find a decent person to sleep with somehow.
garbage people attract garbage people. Though i hope JD can be rehabilitated.
As fucked up as this really is, it’s completely relatable to a 20 something guy.
Also, big fan of isolationism. if it isn’t my business, it isn’t my problem.
Allegedly cheating on her boyfriend is her problem, not ours, because the guy isn’t a friend or even an acquaintance.
Wait a minute… Isn’t Barrett Dudley’s GF named Brittany??