Last week I asked a woman to go home with me.

This was huge for me.

I don't think If I've ever done that. If I did, the booze-soaked brain cells that were on duty that night have long forgotten the incident. My well-documented "fear of being an overly-macho predatory male" has made it almost impossible for me to bring up the topic of "going back to my pad." Which is not a bad thing. That's probably why I've had very few regrettable sexual experiences. Two actually. They were both one-night stands and in both cases SHE invited me back to her place.

So last night I was feeling "on." I'd had a dip in confidence the previous week. But my complexion was doing a bit better. At least enough to tip the confidence/insecurity scale in my favor.

And at one point in the evening I was connecting and feeling an attraction energy to a charming grad student I'd been talking to. Then I just blurted it out.

"where are you staying tonight?"
"I have a key to my friend's place."
"You should stay with me tonight."

Something along those lines. Saying it was not as bad as I anticipated. Surprisingly, I felt very little awkwardness. I think that's because I was being sincere. It wasn't a line, it was an actual suggestion that I was hoping would make everyone a little bit happier.

Then she treated me to the most exquisite form of rejection. She looked as if I just threw gum in her brain gears. Her face froze while her head had a debate with herself.

Her mouth would start to say something as her immediate desires fought with her own "rules" about strange men. Even though she knew she shouldn't collapse into my erotic fury, she was tempted.

And knowing that, at least on some level, she wanted to be with me, was incredibly comforting. Because even stronger than my desire to be with her is my desire to not offend her.

The fact that she had to deliberate so hard on the decision meant (to my skewed perception) that it was a legitimate question. I wasn't being rude or predatory by asking. I wasn't being lecherous or chauvinist or any of those yucky things that usually happen when a guy starts "putting on the moves."

Or maybe she was just being quiet because she was frightened of me and was afraid the wrong answer would make me go into a lunatic rampage.

I'm gonna choose to believe she wanted to go home with me but couldn't.

Nov 7, nineteen98