Meet The Sexpert Who Doesn’t Take His Own Advice.

 

The problem with most sex and relationship experts is that they act like they never make mistakes in their own personal lives.   Of course, you read about it in the papers later on when they get divorced or get caught with a person who isn’t their spouse.  So in the spirit of NOT BEING A HYPOCRITE, I offer you a scene from a recent dust-up.  Did I take my own advice?   Ahem.

Background:  I went home with a guy who was so good-looking he made my teeth ache.  We go to the same XYZ gym class but we actually met at a bar.  At the end of a session that was so hot my neighbors had a cigarette, he left without us exchanging phone numbers (and Mike, a Sexpert!).  He said he’d be at XYZ class on Wednesday night.

He wasn’t there.  I tried looking him up in Facebook and MySpace.  Nada.  Didn’t even know anybody who knew him.  A week goes by and I see him at XYZ class.  Actually, the locker room before the class.  I hand him my phone.  He laughs.  Dials.  After the class, he’s in the showers first.  I pass him as he leaves one of the stalls.  I figure we’ll talk when I get out.  I shower. He’s not there.  Disappeared.  Well, I thought, end of story.   He ain’t into it.

An hour and a half later he texts:

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you came out.  Thought it’d be a little creepy if I waited in the locker room.”

Hmm, I thought.  We’re talking what, 4 minutes in the shower?  He couldn’t have waited in the lobby?  But then why bother texting if he wasn’t interested?  Ohh, the plight of the single—always trying to read the tea leaves.

So, I do what I always advise people to do:  Mirror.  So I waited an hour and a half (the time it took him to text me) before I replied:

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed but I’m really glad you texted.  It’d be great to get to know you.”

Nothing.  Nada.  Next morning, same. Nothing, nada.  So I followed my own advice—give it one more shot to make sure the lack of response wasn’t an accident.  And personalize it.  So I call the next day and leave an upbeat message, kidding him about the industry he’s in, blah, blah, blah.

He calls a day later, leaves a voicemail.  I mirror and wait a day to call him back.  I’m thinking, something ain’t right.  He’s showing all the signs of ambivalence.  The texting starts again.  We make vague plans for drinks early Sunday eve.  He calls that afternoon to say he can’t make it because he’s stressed and has to go to the gym, yada, yada, yada.  And I think, well, it could have been worse.  He could have said he needed to do the laundry.  I was about to accept my fate when he says, “How about tomorrow?”  Perfect, I think, because as I always advise, if you’re truly interested in somebody but the scheduling doesn’t work, don’t cancel–reschedule.  So I said, great, call me.

Next day he texts me at 4:30 pm and wants to know if I want to meet him at 6:00 for a quick drink.  I take my own advice:  Never EVER be that available for somebody unless it’s a booty call.  You send the wrong signal.  You’re saying I’ll drop everything for you at the last moment.  You’re saying you have nothing better to do than to respond to whatever he wants when he wants.  And really, who wants to go out with somebody like that?

So I mirror.  He waited to the last minute to invite, so I waited to the last minute to respond.  A few minutes before 6p I texted:

“Hey.  Didn’t hear from you so I made other plans.”

But that wasn’t all I texted.  I don’t like being ‘ambivalented’ so I decided to end his confusion for him.  Here’s the second half of the text:

“I would reschedule but I get the sense that you’re not very interested.  Why don’t we just leave it where Jesus flung it?  ;>) “

He texted back, “Cool.”

I had a wave of regret.  I was wrong.  Instead of letting it play out, instead of letting it live or die on the vine I sprayed DDT on it.  I confused ego with dignity.  Ego takes a guy who’s not giving you what you want when you want it and kills him off.  Dignity takes the same guy, creates some distance, cultivates interest and draws him in.  And if it doesn’t work, that’s ok.

The challenge for me wasn’t just to learn better ways to handle emotionally-charged situations like this (emotional because I really dug this guy and the cat and mouse game was killing me) but to let it inform how I give advice in my columns.  Mainly, to make sure I never come across as the expert who always gets it right, never gets rejected and doesn’t know what it feels like to have a crushing disappointment.