Five Things We’re Not Doing Since We’re Not Having Sex
Ladies, it’s okay to make a man wait for sex. Go ahead. Women should wait until they’re comfortable with the man they’re dating before they allow him access to the goods. I can respect it. I can be patient. If I like her, she can take as long as she wants to take.
But here’s the thing. No, wait, as a matter of fact, five things, just so we’re clear, because all of us, men and women, have our comfort zones. She has hers. I have mine. So take notes ladies, read through them, and make sure to remember them: Five things I’m not quite comfortable doing with her and won’t be doing with her until she does IT with me.
THERE WILL BE NO MEETING OF THE FRIENDS
This is way more of an intimate act than sex. Letting a woman in on my own personal illuminati? Girl, please. These men are my inner circle, and we talk about the things only men talk about like, whether or not I’m actually getting some from the girl I introduced them to, and because I’m a man of dignity, I must admit that I’m not. And because they are a group of men who will take any opportunity to crack a joke on me, I will now be the laughing stock of the group because I introduced to them a girl who hasn’t even let me hold her panties. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment.
THERE WILL BE NO MOVING OF THE THINGS
During the brief time I lived back home in Seaside, after college, I met a girl one night at this party. We were hitting it off really well, but I knew I was moving within the next month, so I had to work fast. When she mentioned she was moving to a new apartment in the next two weeks, I thought I had an in. Two weeks later, I’m the sucker at her place, helping her move all her stuff. All of it. Even the couch. Just me and her. And the only thing that kept me lifting these heavy boxes is the hope I had that she saw me working all my muscles and would want to jump my bones on this big couch right after I was done taking it up a flight of stairs. The day turned into night, the night turned into late night, and finally she offered up her new place instead of making me drive the hour and a half back home.
Of course I obliged, thinking it was about to go down, but I was given a quick elbow (with love!) when I tried to spoon up next to her. The next morning when I woke up on my side of the bed she said to me, “Did you know in the middle of the night, while you were asleep, you were rubbing my nipples? You reached over and you started rubbing them and I would have stopped you but it actually felt good.”
“Wait, what?” I replied. “You told me before we went to sleep that nothing was going down!”
“I know,” she said. “And I’m not saying anything would have happened, but it did feel good.”
“And I didn’t wake up at all?” I asked.
“Nope,” she said. “You were knocked out…must have been so tired from all that moving you did.”
And that right there is why I’m never helping a woman move her stuff until I know we’re having sex.
THERE WILL BE NO CONSUMING OF THE ALCOHOL
Ask anyone who knows me, when I drink I get red. I hate it. It’s my Asian glow and I’m extremely self-conscious about it. It’s one of the reasons I hate drinking during the day because just a sip and I look like I’ve been hitting the bottle all day. So because drinking in front of people makes me self-conscious and very uncomfortable, I prefer not to drink in front of women I’m getting to know and I would prefer if women did not drink in front of me, even if they have no qualms about drinking by themselves. I mean, if a woman didn’t want to have sex with me, how rude would I be to just get naked in front of her and say, “Okay, that’s cool. I’ll do this by myself.” Pretty rude. Most women would never want me to ask them to join me in doing something that made them feel uncomfortable, right? Right. So, she must extend to me the same respect. Until she is ready to open up to me on an intimate level, I am not showing her an intimate side of me, the red side. Plus, she probably assumes my hormones are out of control anyway, why can’t I assume her drinking is out of control?
THERE WILL BE NO SHARING OF THE DRINKS
Not only will we not be drinking alcoholic beverages together, we will also not be sharing a straw, cup, or bottle of any non-alcoholic beverages. Why? Because one of the reasons why she is not letting me sleep with her is she doesn’t know where my ummm, manhood(?) has been and that’s cool. I understand. But I don’t know where her lips have been either, so why would I share my refreshing bottle of Gatorade with her? I’ll get her her own before that happens. And speaking of lips, here’s the last of my no-no’s until she says yes, yes…
THERE WILL BE NO KISSING OF THE LIPS
In 6th grade, back when kissing meant the world to a boy like me, I Nathan McCall’s memoir, Makes Me Wanna Holler. In the book, he talks about the time growing up with his friends where all they thought about was sex and how smooth a young man had to be. The smoothest of the smooth were the men who could somehow hook up with a girl without even having kissed her first. And I remember reading that thinking there was no way it was possible. Then I got older and discovered while it’s still a very difficult thing to pull off, and highly unlikely (like making a shot from the three-quarters length of the court) it can happen. I have also developed a deeper appreciation for kissing, it’s one of those things associated with people we really like, so if she doesn’t like me enough to sleep with me, why are we kissing? To get a gauge of other things I can do? What is this sixth grade?
The first time we sleep together should immediately follow the first time we kiss. I think we can all agree, kissing is a pretty intimate act. Especially, French kissing — which has magically retained its spot as one of the most deeply passionate forms of PDA since the fourth grade — because it has tongue and all this other stuff, so let’s just wait to do it all. If she doesn’t want to sleep with me, why does she want to kiss me? The way I see it, instead of saving something for later, let’s just save the whole thing for later. Kissing is a formality. Is it fun? Sure. Absolutely. Is it all I want? Never. Ever.