"I have a friend who wants to hook up with you," my friend Ania said. I was only in L.A. for the weekend, so clearly this was meant to be a one-night stand.
I looked at her questionably. Her taste in men left something to be desired. Her boyfriend, while funny, was an out of work actor who had a predilection for talking about "hot chicks," was often a little too friendly with me and almost never showed her any affection.
"Is he even cute?" I asked wearily.
"What difference does it make? You like to hook up. And I've read some of your stories."
I was shocked. Is that what she thought of me? Did she think I was... easy? Sure I had had my fair share of one-night stands and friends with benefits, but that didn't mean I slept with just anyone! I consider myself a bit of a snob when it comes to sex; I'm less alcoholic and more wine connoisseur. It's quality over quantity.
"Just meet him."
The friend was not cute. He was the kind of smarmy loser who goes to clubs just to watch girls shake it on the dance floor. Even worse, he made no secret of the fact that he just wanted to get in my pants. There was little attempt on his part to woo me or chat me up or impress me with witty repartee, much less buy me a drink.
Yes, I am very open about sex. I like having sex and a lot of it. But since when does that make me easy? After all, I still have standards; my partners have to be attractive and charming. It was as if Ania thought I was a cat in heat—my libido so out of control, it just needed a release (never mind things like attraction). Read more...
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