I Walked into the Room Dripping in Gold

Reading something today about someone being stood up reminded me of something that happened almost a decade ago.

I had recently gone through a turbulent, traumatic breakup, and while I was starting to get over it, it still colored my feelings about sex and relationships. It did not, however, kill my libido. So, given that it was the new millennium, I decided finally to try my hand at looking for casual hookups online.

The results were a mixed bag; mostly drive by messages that amounted to “fuk now?”, one guy who rejected me and then messaged me again because he couldn’t be bothered to keep track of women he had already written to, women looking for threesomes to please their male partners, and one person I met and found there was utterly no chemistry with. Oh, and the one person who sent me an email by guessing that my email would be the same as my AFF username, asking if I was interested in a gangbang. Fortunately, I used a username I have never used before or since, with an email only used for that AFF account.

However. I did find almost what I was looking for. Smart, funny, capable of writing grammatically correct smutty conversation, looking for a casual fuckbuddy. Or, at least, that last bit should have been the idea. We emailed furiously for about two weeks of him putting off meeting for reasonable reasons (accidentally double booking me with going out with friends to see a blockbuster movie in the theater, work, finals) before I let go of hope that the reasonable reasons were real reasons, and that we would in fact meet.

I’ve no idea why he never actually met with me. Perhaps he was looking to cheat on a partner, or was only interested in the fantasy of a woman wanting to meet with him to fuck his brains out. Maybe he was afraid that the only sort of woman who’d be on a hookup site was nuts. I even pondered the idea that he had created a persona based on a friend; he dropped enough information, that as a single woman considering fucking a stranger on first meet, I went to find proof of who he was, or at least claimed to be. I sent the information to a close friend just in case, on the day that we were first supposed to meet.

I remember quite clearly an evening, when after emailing back and forth, I told him I would be at a particular coffee shop doing some work, and he should swing by. It was one of those make it or break it moments where I knew that if he couldn’t manage to make the time he said was possible, it would never happen. Obviously, the only thing that came of that night was my completing my work and finishing off a cup of coffee and a pastry.

Oddly, the incident, while annoying that I wasn’t going to get laid, buoyed me. I found it encouraging that I was confident enough to go after what I wanted, even if I didn’t ultimately get it in that case. I knew that what I wanted was out there, and obtainable.

My one regret is that that email address got deactivated, as I wouldn’t mind seeing if my memories of how hot the messages were matched up to how well they’ve aged.


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