So had a vacay with The Fuck Buddy this weekend. However, The Fuck Buddy has been demoted to “That Friend I Had Sex With Once.” “What happened!?” You’re exclaiming (I can hear you over the interwebs, yes.) Well here, let me tell you…
Spent the weekend with the Fuck Buddy and things were all right and good. We’re still friends so things weren’t awkward or anything. We drank, went out for drinks at some silly club, did Tequila shots, and then, oh yeah, we drank some more. So by the end of the evening, I’m pretty far gone, and I’m expecting to get some. Sweet victory.
Oh wait. Monkey wrench.
So he doesn’t seem to catch on to any physical cues (odd) so I decide maybe I need to be more direct. Like with text messages. (Which have always been direct. Sense any sarcasm? I do.) So I start the evening with the good ol “Fuck Me” text message, which I think may have been misspelled because I was drunk texting, but the point was still received Well. At least the text was received. I didn’t actually get any confirmation or response.
Then I sent the ol “don’t answer that,” like I’m thinking “Oh my God, I didn’t actually send that?” But I know I sent that. He knows I sent that. It was sent. Whoops. I send that thinking that he’ll think I’m embarrassed, but I’m actually not. I just want him to react.
So by the time we return to our lodging, it’s very late, I still haven’t heard anything from the Fuck Buddy about my text messages. He disappears for a moment, and I catch him on the phone… for what probably is an hour or so, talking to a girl he was in a long-distance relationship with. Uh, okay. Whatever. Doesn’t bother me. They aren’t “together” anymore, and facebook says he’s “single,” so F that. But then it starts to occur to me that maybe he doesn’t want to fuck, and he’s still stuck on this girl, so in a final attempt, and my last bit of willingness to embarrass myself in the hopes of sex, I send “honesty is the best policy” thinking he’ll feel guilty and tell me the truth: to fuck, or not to fuck.
He finishes his phone call, sees my text and laughs: “honesty is the best policy?” he asks. Then he snuggles up next to me on the couch.
Talk about mixed messages.
The next day, things are good and fine. We go through the day as “buddies,” the “fuck” prefix started to fade from our situation. That night, we’re partying again, and I’m not as drunk as I was the night before for sure, but he’s gone. We’re talking blackout. Like I won’t be surprised if he calls today and was like “what happened?” But during this delicious moment of drunken hilarity, he made a call to a friend, who had hooked up with some random girl, and it sounded like, offered to hook my buddy up with someone too.
“No,” he says over the phone “I’m committed to somebody right now.”
Or something like that. Paraphrased. Sue me. Trust me, that’s pretty close to what he said and I don’t think I could have possibly misinterpreted it. Woah.
So he wasn’t sleeping with me because he was “with someone.” Who, I have no idea. I’m thinking it’s long distance girl… and I have some reasons as to how I know. It includes reading text messages over someone’s shoulder (whoops) and reading things I could have quite frankly gone without knowing.
Officially, we are at friend level. That One Friend I Had Sex With Once is still a dear pal and I will continue to kick it with him regardless of who he’s having phone sex with long-distance style. He’s a great friend, and was there for me this weekend when I needed to escape my big city life. Thanks, Buddy.