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Room #104 and Neighbor Damon – Part 5

Just because a man buys you drinks does that entitle him to more?
August and September

In a split second, his hand was up my tight, black Dolce and Gabbana dress right there on the Ritz-Carlton couch. He leaned in and whispered in my ear all the things he wanted to do. I must admit I got a tingle in my nether region; I was still pretty charged from Room #104, although our encounter had been three nights earlier. The next thing I knew Neighbor Damon and I were in the pool area of the Ritz. I had a little Jesus déjà vu moment as he went down on me, then he pulled out his “thing.” It was shockingly large; without even thinking I told him “to put that THING away,” and I was out of there. I had gone beyond filling my perceived obligation.

When I got home that night I started to sneeze uncontrollably. His cologne was stuck on my skin, in my hair, and in my clothing. I showered before I went to bed, put my dress in a Ziploc bag like biohazard material to seal off his smell. First thing in the morning, I determinedly drove to the dry cleaner and handed the bag to Jill for complete decontamination.

Someplace inside Neighbor Damon is the sweet guy I saw that the first time we met, but I was never able to pull back enough layers to find it. He did a great job of putting on a macho, womanizing act to keep me from seeing his true core. The Sunday after our date, he called first thing in the morning, interrupting my weekly ritual of doing the bills, practicing yoga and getting ready for the new week.

“Hi Jennifer, it’s Damon. Why don’t you come over and sit on my face?” I wanted to heave.

“No. I don’t think so,” was my shocked reply.

“Well, do you want to go to Manhattan Beach this afternoon? There is a food festival, and it should be really cool.”

“No. I have yoga.”

“How about we meet later for dinner, then?”

“No. I like to take a sauna after yoga class and have a relaxing night alone.” Sunday is my day, and I was not about to change my routine for him.

He called me about five times the next day and sent numerous e-mails; this was abnormal behavior. I let him know that his actions made me uncomfortable and I didn’t want to see him again. That has yet to stop him from contacting me.

To be continued…

Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell – Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Just because a man buys you drinks does that entitle him to more?
August and September

I was still not able to remember his name when we said goodbye, but I didn’t care any more. He was a liar, and not someone I would want in my world. I only saw him one more time — in the pages of a paintball magazine. Four months later, I was at a Barnes and Noble bookstore, looking at dating books for research, and I saw the one and only paintball magazine in the periodicals section. I thumbed through the pages and there was Room #104! Well, I’m pretty sure it was him. The man in the photo wore a helmet with a face guard, but a bit of his red hair was visible, and I’d recognize that body anywhere. At least I knew he didn’t lie about that. Along with the dating books and an Italian Vogue, I bought the paintball magazine – the clerk gave me a quizzical look. I now keep it with my research for the book; it’s my souvenir of the day I became a social scientist.

The day I said goodbye to Room #104, I returned home to find my e-mail inbox and cell phone filled with messages from Neighbor Damon. I was unsure if it was best to call him or ignore him, but he did seem like a nice guy. He just lacked girl-skills and was, obviously, eager. I called him back and agreed to go on a date with him that weekend. Thinking back, I tried to get out of our initial date, but he was very insistent. I gave him brownie points for his willingness to fight to have a date with me.

We went to Mr. Chow, one of my favorite restaurants in Los Angeles. He seemed like a kind man; under his gruff exterior is a man looking for love and companionship – aren’t we all. Although he wore way too much cologne and was a little rough around the edges, we had a few thins in common. We talked about his job at the record label and my own connections within the music industry.

Things were going fine until he asked me to feed him. What? Is he kidding? I thought. He wanted me to feed him pieces of the green shrimp, just like a romantic couple in a movie. It was a very awkward moment, and definitely not romantic. I really just wanted the date to be over, but he’d been so generous, I felt it would be rude to cut things short.

After dinner, he talked me into a nightcap at the Ritz-Carlton. We sat on the big couch in the bar area where I sipped hot tea and he a mixed drink. I was wearing a very tight dress, and I consider panty lines to be a big fashion don’t. Even the Hollywood standard, Cosabella, would be visible. As we are sitting on the couch, he slid his hand across my hip and commented, “You’re not wearing underwear.” I nodded confirmation of his suspicion. If the general public knew just how many women “go commando,” no one would be shocked by my confession.

To be continued…

David Gray – Be Mine

Badonlinedates.com presents Bad Date TV and The Best of Bad Date Ben – Season 2. Filled with sex humor and laugh-out-loud dating humor.

Just because a man buys you drinks does that entitle him to more?
August and September

Suddenly, his hand went up my skirt, and I forgot all about the stain and germ-ridden bedspread. He was a skilled lover. Perhaps it was just because we knew we would never see one another again, or because he’s watched a lot of porn – within minutes, he made some specific requests that indicated the latter – but the sex was raw and uninhibited. After several hours, we fell asleep; it was around 3:00 a.m. when I awoke. Should I stay, or should I go? He was sound asleep as I snuck out of the room. Safely home, I brushed my teeth, scrubbed my face and got into my bed, glad be there alone.

Feeling the effects of the Cuervo 1800 and my night of debauchery, I got up around 9:00 a.m., having missed yoga. There were three calls from Damon on my cell phone. He had called me the night before, first thing in the morning, and sent me a bunch of emails.

It freaked me out that he was being so aggressive, so I ignored him and went to the gym to sweat out Room #104 and the 1800. On my way home, I wracked my brain to remember Room #104’s name. I felt like such a slut; the horns and tail were surely visible. I had offered to take him to the airport the next day, but I couldn’t remember his room number, either. However I did know my way back to his room, so I went back to the hotel to find him.

Usually cool and calm in most situations, my heart was pounding as I rode up in the elevator and knocked on the door. He was in his room and invited me in. It was awkward; we were both uneasy, but we survived. As we were talking, he told me about his girlfriend back home — the girlfriend that he lives with. I asked him if he has these out-of-town flings and one-night stands all the time. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “No, this is the first time I have ever done anything like this.” I can still his face at that moment, and I’m still sure he was lying. Room #104 was not only a professional paintball player; he was a professional “player,” and I fell for his game. But I was up for the adventure whatever its the outcome.

To be continued…

Lynyrd Skynyrd – Simple Man

Let’s Talk About Sext (NSFW VIDEO)

The Doors – Touch Me

It’s happy hour, but your buddy’s hanging out with his new lady. Need someone to help you seal the deal? Look no further than your cell phone for a replacement wingman.