Sunday night was my much anticipated 3rd date with The Musician. As I shared with you, I went into the date assuming that he was hoping we’d have sex for he first time (he invited me over for a home-cooked dinner, which translates to, “I want to see you naked” in my world). I was hoping for the same thing. He’d sent me several emails while he was away on vacation and was in frequent communication with me between our first two dates. And, of course, I enjoyed his company. He seemed like a potential keeper.
The dinner itself was wonderful. He’s a good cook. But we ran into some warning signs early on. He opened up a bottle of wine for us to have with dinner. I drank about a half a glass (I had to be up early the next morning, and really am a lightweight). Most of the bottle was gone by the time we were finishing our meal.
Um, yeah, go ahead and think what you’re thinking.
I’m going to skip ahead and summarize a bit because really, it’s all just a little too fresh and awful to write about in detail. The Musician seems to be the kind of man who likes some liquid courage when he’s nervous. And I guess I make him nervous. Or maybe all women do? There are predicable side effects to that. And yep, he had some mechanical difficulties. But I got the sense that those problems were not unusual for him. In fact, I got the distinct sense that that is his norm and that maybe the alcohol just made it all more ridiculous.
I don’t know.
Here’s what I do know about that particular topic, before I get creamed: I have dated a couple of guys who had chronic issues in that department (one because of health issues and there wasn’t one thing either of us could do about it and another because he just couldn’t get it up when he was stressed out about work, etc). I didn’t dump either of them. In each of those cases we were able to work around our issues and still find ways to be satisfied. I considered each of those guys good lovers (in their own ways).
The Musician was just kind of an inept, insecure mess. The alcohol made it worse, but then it was his choice to drink that much. I’d love to believe that it could be better with him at another time, a different night. I just don’t think it could be. I don’t think he has an A game. And Sunday night was really awful and humiliating (not because he had trouble getting it up but because I was trying really hard to be a good sport about it and…well let’s just say I gave it my best effort). I don’t want to put myself through that again.
So that’s that. He sent me a next day email yesterday. It took me a whole day to make my mind 100% up and then sent him an email today. I said thanks for the lovely dinner and it’s been wonderful, blah blah blah, but we just don’t fit together.
I feel good about it.
Tags: dealbreaker, impotence, next day email, sex, wine