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The spreadsheet - part VI





Name
occupation
personality
hair
kinky?
Other notes
Ophelia
?
Boring
Brown
?
Had nothing to say

One beer - Zero conversation.

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Name
occupation
personality
hair
kinky?
Other notes
Ashley
Social Media
chatty, weird, super interesting
Brown
interested
English!!!

A girl with an interesting looking sex oriented profile checked me out. I started writing her a message, but just before I pressed ‘send’ a message popped up from her. This simultaneous messaging got us off to a good start and we exchanged banter including how she once had sex in a church, and I told her a cautionary tale about my recent solo misadventures with duct-tape. Banter transferred to texting, but scheduling an actual meetup was challenging as Ashley always seemed to be off doing something fun sounding.

The times we did meet were impulsive last minute affairs where I was in her neighbourhood and she happened to be free. The first time we met was for cocktails at the Wayland; they were good cocktails and Ashley was fun to talk to. I’m not sure how much of it was that I hadn’t met any new English people for too long, but I liked Ashley’s sense of humour, her openness, and her general enthusiasm for life. Her own lack of inhibitions made me feel safe in describing my various dating trials and tribulations. She was similarly forthcoming and I discovered that she had a penchant for sex parties… this was a particularly interesting conversation topic and I learned many things. For example I found out that Oxford students had their own group sex society, though it must have been a well guarded secret to escape the ravenous Oxford gossip mill. Ashley also told me that during her student years she had sometimes frequented orgies hosted in luxurious London mansions and English country houses. ‘Eyes wide shut’ scenarios drifted through my mind; group sex was not something I had ever sought out myself, but I couldn’t deny that she had me intrigued.

When not talking about sex I also learned that Ashley was a fan of weird nature stuff; on her phone she showed me pictures of the various frightful insects and myriapods that she had found inhabiting her crumbling east village apartment.

After a couple of drinks Ashley decided it was time to call it a night. As we were leaving I tentatively proposed; “I mean you’d be welcome to come back to mine if you wanted to?”
“Oh no, not today, I was supposed to have a threesome yesterday, but I’m just all over the place at the moment, sorry.” She replied.
“Sure, no worries! Lets hang out again soon.” I said meekly.

Eventually I caught up with Ashley again, we got fro-yo and chatted in Tompkins square park while the fireflies were coming out. These flashing dots of green above the dark grass almost seem like some ethereal spirits, trying to transmit morse code from beyond the grave. She somehow ended up buying my fro-yo for me as the result of an awkward checkout interaction where I offered to pay, but then she insisted I had bought drinks last time, and so I relented and she paid for both, but then I wasn’t sure if she had just meant to buy her own... “Arg I’m so stupid!” I said out loud to myself randomly the next day, while pointlessly obsessing over this error. Perhaps I had been in New York too long and forgotten how English people are meant to do multiple rounds of insisting to pay for things?... You know how you get those retrospective feelings of stupidity that randomly bubble up and make you want to spontaneously punch yourself in the face? Well for some reason this not-paying-for-fro-yo incident haunted me like that for weeks, even though it probably had zero influence on Ashley’s desire to sex me.

While Ashley was confident and friendly in the way she talked, there was something slightly awkward about her body language that gave off a ‘don’t touch me’ vibe. So I didn’t touch her. The fireflies had more nerve than me though and one flew straight into her face. Having finished the remains of our melted dairy products we fled the suddenly hostile park life. A. said she had some more people to meet that evening, and so I walked to the L stop and we parted ways.

I badgered her by text for a while; based on the last two meetings it seemed to be a matter of rolling the message die and hoping she was free that evening. Eventually though Ashley got bored of telling me she was busy; “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I’m just not interested...” was her reply to my final, and somewhat seedy, proposition:

After a bit of pressing she revealed the main thing that turned her off about me, (aside from texting her too much), was my teeth as she thought they could use straightening. Instead of being hurtful this dental insult was a weird relief; I was happy that it was just a minor physical defect that put her off me, as with string of dating failures I’d been experiencing in June and July I was beginning to worry there was something noxiously unappealing about my personality!

After been effectively closured, I thanked Ashley for her honesty and deleted her row from the spreadsheet.

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