What do you do when you fall of the bike? You get back on, right?
After getting catfished, I realized that nothing good would ever happen on Plenty of Fish so I got rid of that shit. I focused on Tinder and OKCupid (still my favorite) and dropped a few more lines in the water. I got a bite on OKCupid, which surprised me because that app had been the Sahara Desert of Dating for me recently. K and I were both nerdy and of Slytherin House. When I gave her the formal title in one message of “K of CitySheLivesIn” she replied saying, “Well, Dallas of Plano” and that sealed the deal for me. I asked K on a date.
We met at a Wine Bar in Frisco. Maybe Frisco, maybe Plano. I’m not sure because I moved to this side of suburbia at the beginning of COVID-19 so I have no idea where one city ends and another begins. It’s all just one fucking Panera Bread after another. Anyway, I met K at the barstaurant and we laughed for three hours straight. It was effortless and fun. The only issues I could see were that she didn’t want kids, which she crawfished back a little on, and that she had dual citizenship in another country and wanted to move there in a year. However, the samples of Zinfandel that I had been sipping on relaxed me and I told her, “Hey, this is fun. That’s all that matters right now.”
OK, let me back up a bit. Before the date, I had messaged K and told her that I “wasn’t fucking you on the first date.” She was OK with that and understood the subtext that I had been used in the past. As a matter of fact, when I told her I had been catfished recently, she immediately sent me a picture of herself with no makeup and a pimple to prove she was real. Basically, K was kind and I had forgotten what that was like.
The morning of the date, as I was shaving my legs I made the decision to shave… all the things that needed shaving. I told m’girls that I’d changed my mind and that I was gonna put out for this one. One of my more prescient friends understood and told me, “You just lost some power getting catfished and you feel the need to regain it. That’s totally normal.”
So, back to the date. At one point I said something in French and K said, “Ooooo. Don’t do that again or else” and she smiled and covered her face. I told her that I’d changed my mind about what I was willing to do that night and spoke some more French to her. Sometimes it pays to be Cajun. At the end of the date, K asked me if I wanted to go for a walk and I enthusiastically agreed. She paid. Thank god she paid because, apparently, Wine Bars are expensive.
I met K outside of the Wine Bar and she took my hand in hers as we started walking down the street. Suddenly and without warning, K turned to me and kissed me. I smiled as she leaned in to kiss me again. Then she started making out with me in the middle of the sidewalk… under a streetlamp… that was surrounded by glass-fronted restaurants on both sides of the road. When she slid a hand off of my side and up to one of my boobs I pulled my mouth away from her and said we needed somewhere more private. (I still wonder what the people eating and working at the restaurants thought of us. Lesbians making out is pretty high on everyone’s fantasy list, right?) K took me around a corner, pushed me against a wall, and started kissing me again. It is, without a doubt, the hottest thing that has ever happened in my life.
(By the way, if you’re getting uncomfortable as I talk about sex/affection, that says more about your views on sexuality than it says about my sexuality.)
After the public makeout session, K followed me home and we did our thing. I understood why people tell me they love me when I have sex with them… because K’s heart was completely open to me in bed and I felt the difference that makes. In other words, she approached sex like I did. She spent the night that weekend and things got even more intense. I went to her house a few days later and I had the most fiery, passionate sex I’ve ever had in my life. I told one of my friends that the energy between us was like Diet Coke and Mentos.
However, my alarm bells started ringing when I brought her flowers and I could tell she didn’t want them. A couple of days later I asked her when her birthday was (I knew it was coming up soon) and she very directly told me she didn’t want a gift. The next day she told me she felt like I was pressuring her. Later that day she dumped me. She’s now nicknamed Special K.
So, I fell off of the bike again. This time I think I’ll sit on the ground for a while and figure out why I keep falling off instead of getting right back on.
Unfortunately, I now see a pattern. A lot of women see me as a sex toy or a forbidden fruit. As a result, the sex is insane like it was with The Sex Tornado and Special K because they’ve already let go of all of their inhibitions. However, like a toy, these women get tired of me and cast me aside. As a result, I’m going to have to change my approach to dating. Here’s my new rules: No more “straight” women or women who have only slept with women but never dated them. No more women who pursue me passionately and are sexually aggressive. I should probably have a longer list of Women to Avoid but that’s all I’ve come up with for now.
Feel free to comment with non-judgmental qualifiers you think I should add to the list. Apparently, it takes a village to get a transwoman a girlfriend.
Update: Special K read this blog post and offered me her honest perspective. As much as I don’t like to admit it, a lot of what she said is correct. I’m not some transgender princess over here, living a pristine life and being taken advantage of by villainous women. I can be emotionally needy and come across as needing constant validation. I’m the one who invited her back to my house.
I can say with no hesitation that K is a kind, strong woman. This just wasn’t a fit and I got invested way too early. We all live and learn… and she’s given me some lessons I need to think about.