Two Virgins and a Born Again Walk Into a Bar

Tick, Tock Goes the Single Clock

We sprawled up against the mattress watching the ceiling fan circle around the room as the fixtures bumped into one another ticking, going round and round as beads of sweat perspired on our foreheads.

We were in deep thought.

“What are guys doing tonight?” Sabrina, my organizational sister asked nonchalantly intruding on the quite somber. She was sporting a multicolored sundress and a matching purse over her shoulder. It was Wednesday, the middle of the week…the new Saturday according the breed of college students born after 1990.

“We’re looking for boyfriends,” Cynthia, my other org sister blurted out. Her face was as jubilant as if it was the first day of Christmas.

I shook my head, embarrassed while searching for the judging look in Sabrina’s eyes that really would have said it all…how desperate could these bitches be?

“What she meant is I’m doing a social experiment…It’s kind of like, if you were single, where would all the single men be? You know, to get picked up,” I added wiping away the panic off my face.

This is what’s happening now; the dating game has now changed; from the times of high school sweethearts to instant messaging random strangers on the Internet and online dating that has twenty-something’s socially baffled when it comes to matters of the heart.

“Thought you had a boyfriend…what happened to that one guy you were dating?” Sabrina asked.

“I didn’t like him,” I commented back.

“That’s why she’s here,” Cynthia rolled her eyes.

Cynthia and I both withdrew to our respective devices searching for answers to our question: where do all the single men go?

“So where are you guys going,” Sabrina asked still leaned in the doorway with no intentions to retreat.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged my shoulders still scrolling the various hangout websites.

“Bars, Lounges, Pool Halls, I guess I want to know where all the single, attractive men hang out.” I replied.

“…But you can come along if you want,” I added out of courtesy.

She nodded her head with admiration. That’s when I saw it in her face, she wanted in part of the action and she had been waiting on her invitation. The Help Wanted sign was plastered all over our faces….

Three single young things looking for love, cuddling, and someone to share rest of life with…please point in the right direction, prayers welcomed. Call (555) 555-5555.

“Maybe the grocery store…or churches…” Cynthia boosted.

“Couldn’t be my church,” Sabrina kicked an inanimate object on the ground.

Cynthia sucked her teeth and nodded her head.

I guess we weren’t going to church.

Trolling for Boys MenWe were dressed to the nines with cute shoes to match. I put my notepad and pen in my small clutch purse and watch the other ladies put their faces on.

“Condoms? Why do you have those?” Sabrina asked Cynthia as she stuffed them into her purse.

“…In case I have sex,” she remarked.

I shook my head.

“We’re looking for life-long mates, not one night stands,” I remarked.

Virgins.

The drive to our destination was not to far. The place, called Night Owls, was located in the middle of the vacant plaza right between Subway and an Argentinian Deli. The music was pumping through the walls as two scrawny guys stood at the door checking ID’s. We held wholeheartedly to our pre-gamed SOLO cups laced with enough Rum to start a party anywhere on the planet. Tossing the cups behind the guards of the palace, we wobbled into the bar trolling for young men or at least for phone numbers from said young men.

The place was packed. I sat next to a group of Caucasian fellas surrounded by two hot, skinny blondes bored out of their minds as they scrolled their respective social media apps. The lighter blonde took notice of us as we took our seats while the darker and taller blonde ignored our presence. My sisters looked bored; they were peaking around each corner as if Prince Charming hung out in local bars with a handy glass slipper shoe.

Sabrina ordered shots for the three us. The bartender who didn’t even look old enough to drink placed the small plastic containers in front of us and poured the liquor courage. Cynthia passed her cup to me and whispered, “Here you drink mine.” Sabrina and I chugged back our plastic shot cups and waited for the feeling of alcoholic ecstasy to lower our inhibitions.

Music becomes more rhythmic when you’re tipsy off your rocker. Being the small stature that I was, it didn’t take much to get me to believe that I was on America’s Best Dance crew. I must’ve been to the bathroom more times than I can remember sitting down. All I knew that if Prince Charming walked through any door right now, he could have me…or at least hold my seat until I get back after the tenth trip to the bathroom.

Upon my return, two intoxicated dudes strolled into the place. They had their eyes set on the three of us and weren’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. The one guy who spoke first introduced himself as a newbie from Central America named Diego and the other one was a tall Caucasian who went by the name of Aaron. Diego first move was tried on Cynthia before he was quietly dismissed. She barely acknowledged him as if he used what seemed like his best luck.

His next victim was Sabrina. He made promises of commitment and sexy rendezvous, spitting game but never did he offer her a drink at the bar let alone ask her for her last name.

Aaron and I hit it off pretty well. He pulled out his cellphone showing pictures of his seven year daughter explaining that at twenty-nine it was hard being a single father. The mother, who I pictured as a spunky brunette that was always ready for a good time, had skipped town right after the birth of their daughter and she was nowhere to be found.

By the end of the night, he had asked me for my number. I gave it to him so he could feel some sort of achievement while Diego barely got a head nod or a proper farewell from my sisters.

“He was ugly,” Cynthia rolled her eyes when I asked about Diego. She refused to add any more to the conversation when I grilled her about her snobby attitude towards a guy who obviously wanted to take her back to his exotic homeland.

“He was drunk, anything looked good to him,” she ended on that note.

“But you hit it off with that white boy so I guess it wasn’t that bad of a night,” Sabrina stated.

“He has a kid,” I responded.

“It might need a mother,” they both laughed at me. I deleted his number from my call log and we exited the bar with our hymens intact.

He’s Just Sort of Into You

I just want to taste you. This is how my new potential beau, we’ll just call him Mr. Licks began the conversation after a Thursday afternoon of hanging out with his drinking buddies straight out of their garage. Somehow he conceived the notion that licking and probing my happy parts made him more of a desirable mate.

I listened with admiration and thought Excuse me, sir…are you for real? I mean don’t tempt me as I might take you up on that offer but is this the story you want to tell our grandkids?

The first time I saw your grandmother, I just couldn’t wait to meet up and stick my tongue down her…

Honey?

…Down her famous apple pecan pie. She was really good at baking.

So I sexily nodded my head to the sound of his voice through the speakers of my cellular device and added a few ‘oh my gosh’ comments after. It had been eons since my first sexual encounter after my vow of celibacy so wouldn’t you know that the first guy I meet would try to do more than just break the vow, he was about to have it amended.

See the thing about dating in your twenties, is that in the year two-thousand there are a new set of rules…except you wouldn’t know there was a new set of rules unless you put yourself out there.

As a woman I was taught to let the man do the chase. Society tells me to be a sexy vixen while playing hard to obtain. I was trained that the ultimate goal is to snag me a ring by any means necessary. And if I were a man, I’m told to experience everything I can with different types of women because settling down in your twenties is not feasible for a man.

I asked my significant other about the rules of dating and he explain it like this:

Mr. Licks: “Do whatever you want to each other, people learn the rules (of dating) from the start of every new relationship.”
Me: “So what are the levels?”
Mr. Licks: “The levels of dating are first you’re friends…you date and meet as acquaintances, she becomes your friend, then you become boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Me: “So what are we?”
Mr. Licks: “We are dating.”
Me: “Not boyfriend and girlfriend”
Mr. Licks: “Exactly”
Me: “When do we become boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Mr. Licks: “After Talking, everything after talking means you are exclusive”
Me: “So we are not exclusive”
Mr. Licks: “We are. Our personalities dictate what the rules are, you find out the certain person’s do’s and don’ts”
Me: “Side note: I don’t like when you don’t pick up your phone.”
Mr. Licks: “Some rules are meant to be broken”
Me: “What?”
Mr. Licks: “My phone doesn’t ring. I can’t help that.”
Me: “Take it off silent”
Mr. Licks: “But I’m sleeping, I’m not going to take my phone silent. That’s a gray area for me”

Clearly.

This conversation lasted all but two seconds when I realized that this man is emotionally unavailable. I find it bizarre that he would do anything he wanted to my body but when asked about how he truly felt about me than it become an interrogation.

I guess he was kind…sort of…maybe into me,

Maybe I was fooling myself. Maybe it’ll be easier to say I give up on dating until I found someone who truly cared more about me than what he wanted to do to my body. But still…I keep looking…in a bar, or in a church…at the little corner store where I get my groceries, and even at the bookstore where I engulf myself into the perfect novel. Maybe that’s why dating in your 20’s are all about shenanigans …we’re still learning.

Some people spend their whole lives looking for their other halves…and I’m still waiting. But don’t let me tell you how it is…find out for yourself.