I’m no stranger to my dick getting me into trouble, but rarely do I really regret it. I met Felicity (not her real name, but I call her so because she resembled Keri Russell from that show) at a B/Arcade in Brooklyn. If you’re not familiar with the B/Arcade scene, it’s old arcade games and a full service bar. What could be better than video games and drinking?
I noticed Felicity over by the air hockey table. She was playing her friend in a pretty fierce and vicious battle. I’d never heard of life or death air hockey before. When she finally got the winning shot she raised her arms in the air, screamed “Yes!”, then pointed at him declaring “You are my BITCH!” My instant thought was, This Chick Is Awesome. Too bad she’s with someone.
But then I heard her friend cry, ” I can’t be your bitch, my girlfriend is going to be so mad at me.”
“That’s okay, I can loan you out on weekends and bank holidays.”
Bam! So I walked up demanding to play the winner.
“I don’t know. Can you handle emasculating humiliation?” she said with a smirk.
There’s something about physical activity when you’re seducing. Maybe it’s that it gives her mind something physical to focus on rather than judging you and your advances. Maybe getting the body involved speaks more than the mouth. And maybe it’s just that the two of you are having more fun than you would be if it where up to the back and forth talking at a bar top. Whatever it is, it’s a Godsend.
Yes she beat the crap out of me. I think the final score was 14-1. But over the course of humiliation I learned that she was into all sorts of obscure crap that I’m into. We’re both actors. The Pillowman by Martin McDonagh is our favorite play. We’re both left handed. And our drink is a Patron Sour.
We sat at a table talking we learned even more commonalities. As my leg brushed her thigh, her leg didn’t move. The initial physical escalation had begun. Then she chimed, “I’m kinda disappointed. There’s no Street Fighter. No Mortal Kombat. He’ll I at least expected there to be a DDR machine.”
At this comment, my jaw hit the floor. I mean wow, right?
“You couldn’t beat me at any of them.” I declared.
“You wanna prove it?”
“You wanna prove it?”
And at that we were off to my place. But no Mortal Kombat or DDR was played. Pretty much right when we got back I went in for the kiss. But here the thing…it was the blandest most unexciting kiss I’ve ever had. Did I stop? No. We proceeded to my bedroom and things continued to escalate. Every step of the way was mundane and uninteresting. No spark whatsoever. I could tell she was enjoying it as little as I was. Even my Mack-patented moves did nothing for her. But at that point, what do you do? Say, “Hey this isn’t really working for me?” I mean I guess I could have. But how awkward would that have been?
Eventually we just ended up cuddling for a bit until she said, “If I stay like this I’m going to fall asleep.” As she left I wanted to say, “Hey I know this didn’t really work out but I really do like you as a friend. I’d still like to hang out.” But if it’s a sensitive situation. If I come off as she didn’t do it for me, then I’m an asshole. So I said nothing.
After she left I got the obligatory “Had a good time” text. But that was it. I tried to keep up communication. A joke about us being left handed. Invited her to see the new Martin McDonagh movie Seven Psychopaths. But I never heard from her again. I had more in common with her than any of my guy friends. Sucks.
–Big Mack Attack…I guess.