Never assume; you know what happens when you do
So, in the sea of poor correspondence, I actually got a reply that sounded interesting earlier this week. He sounded like he knew what TTWD is all about and stated it articulately. He attached a head shot and he looked nice. He was local. He didn’t push to talk on the phone or text. All good signs, so I agreed to meet for coffee.
He wrote yesterday to check in and verify we were still on. Also good. But then later, he included a little poem that really had nothing to do with anything, and it was in questionable taste to say the least. Red flag? Yeah, probably. But everything else had been good so far, so I ignored it and figured if he asked about it, why I hadn’t reacted, I’d tell him.
I arrived at noon; he was already there. He was tall and attractive… but right away, something felt off. I can’t tell you what it was; it was just a vibe I got. This is why I always, always meet people publicly first. Because I have no idea what someone is really like until I see them and talk to them face to face.
We sat down. He said I looked great; I said thank you. Then he asked me how long I’ve been into spanking. I started with the general story of discovering Shadow Lane nearly 27 years ago, finding out I wasn’t alone, that there were lots of others like me, blah blah blah. He smiled and said something softly. I thought I heard him, but no… he couldn’t have said that. I must have heard wrong. So I said, “I’m sorry, what?”
And he repeated, “I know what c***s like you want.”
I felt like a freaking bus had slammed into my gut. I grabbed my purse and got up from the table, started to leave. He seemed genuinely shocked. “Where are you going? What happened?” I said, “You. Do. NOT. Call me that. Ever.” He asked me repeatedly to please sit back down, and I was so flummoxed, I did. I could tell from his rambling and justifying that somehow, he had gotten the idea that I would like that kind of talk. I took a deep breath. “I don’t like degradation. I don’t like humiliation. I don’t like being called names. And I don’t like men who use that word.”
I stayed for a few more minutes, trying to get past it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I felt creeped out and uncomfortable and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t undo that. He brought up that poem he’d written to me the night before. I said, “Why did you send me that?” He said he was just “testing things.” Good grief. Yeah, I get it… some people like that kind of talk. But then I said, “You might want to get some preliminaries out of the way before you assume to go in that direction.” He had the grace to look sheepish.
Then he asked, “Do you think you could ever be comfortable with me?” I said no. He sighed. “Then I won’t keep you.” And we got up and left. I walked out ahead of him, and heard him call out, “Take care, Erica.” I couldn’t wait to jump into my car and peel out of there. I was shaking all the way home, and when I finally got back here. I burst into tears.
Again… I get it. Not everyone feels like I do about this sort of thing. But you start out respectful. You start out polite, and you reveal your needs, wants, preferences. And if you like anything sort of edgy, that’s to be negotiated and clarified — not thrown in your face five minutes within meeting. Never. Assume. Err on the side of caution first. And as you get to know a play partner better, then you can experiment, take some chances, try things. But for sweet fuck’s sake, don’t come right out of the gate with that kind of talk. Just because I like to be spanked doesn’t mean I don’t have a healthy self-esteem. I want to be treated with respect and kindness. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s a weird-ass dichotomy to say that when I’m also saying I want you to slap my butt. But it seems to me that anyone with a modicum of common sense would understand the difference. Why is common sense so goddamned uncommon?
Ugh. You know, before I left, I took a couple of selfies. I liked how I looked with my makeup on, my hair freshly blown out, and wearing a green sweater for St. Paddy’s Day. I felt pretty for about five minutes, before he made me feel like I needed to be steam cleaned. But screw it. He’s not taking that away from me.
So… maybe next time, the guy will be worth this. 😉 For now, I can’t concentrate on work to save my life, so I’m going to do some cleaning. Have a great weekend, y’all. ♥