Deal-breakers. All of us have them. What’re yours?
Not that long ago I was going about my day when I got a direct message on Twitter. It was from a reader. He loved my blog, he told me. He thought I was hot. He wanted me to be his daddy and fuck his hot little ass.
Well, it’s tough for me to hold up against blandishments like that. I couldn’t tell much about the guy from his Twitter profile other than he did indeed appear to have a hot ass (it featured prominently as his user photo), so I asked him to tell me more about himself.
He responded with some photos and information. He was young—in his early twenties. Of mixed race. Muscular and attractive. His dick was large, his ass round and larger. And he happened to be taking a train from Manhattan home back to somewhere else in New England he happened to call home, and would be passing through my area around dinnertime.
I actually had that afternoon and evening free, and was able to host. I offered the kid my phone number and asked him what time his train was coming through my area. Well look, he replied. I can’t commit right now. It depends on whether these muscle guys get back to me or not.
Which made me ask him, Huh?
I was going to hook up these muscle guys if they get back to me. But if they don’t I am totally free to chill with you, he wrote back.
I took a moment to make sure I understood the situation. So I’m really just second choice behind some muscle couple? I wrote.
No, no, he wrote back, trying to soothe me. They’re not a couple. Just two hot muscle guys. Not together. I’ve been after one of them for a long time, but I told the other if the first didn’t get back to me I’d fuck with him. If I don’t hear back from either of them it can be you, daddy. Followed by little smiley faces.
I was so taken aback I could’ve spit nails. The little motherfucker was telling me outright that I wasn’t his first or second choice of hookups, but a distant third, behind some random guys with muscles.
Now, for some guys, this state of affairs might be fine. Some guys are more laid back than I. Some chaps don’t have as huge an ego to wound. I, however, was offended. After I made sure that I’d assessed the situation correctly, I wrote back to the kid plainly and politely. I’m going to say no to meeting, I told him. I’m not interested in being your third choice. Good luck to you.
Unfortunately, the kid tried to badger me for the rest of the day. He said he’d tell the other two guys no and meet up with me. He said he’d wanted me first all along, but had been afraid to ask. Then he turned right around and said I’d better meet him because after all, I wasn’t going to get any better offers than him. No thank you, I wrote, then blocked him on Twitter.
Also unfortunate was the fact I’d already given him my phone number. Immediately after that the text messages started to come. Pleas. Photos. Please stop contacting me, I texted him, and blocked the number on my phone.
Then somehow he started to send me messages on one of the geolocation apps on my phone. I blocked him there, too.
It was a lot of weirdness in a very short period of time, and it just made me kind of glad that I discovered how annoying and stalkery the kid really was before I’d actually met him. He’s unfortunately not unique, however. There are certainly a lot of men out there who need to realize the impression they’re giving when they’re trying to lure someone between the sheets.
The deal-breaker here, of course, was the presumption that I’d be okay with the bronze medallion in this guy’s sexual olympics. I wasn’t. Frankly, nobody should be happy to be anyone’s third place. Before I’m accused of hypocrisy, let me state that yes, absolutely, I have confessed on these very pages before to double-booking and even triple-booking a time slot I know I’ll have open and available for some sexual gymnastics, so that if my first choice of playmate doesn’t show, at least I’ll have a couple of other options from which to choose. Sure I do. Almost every time.
But you know what I don’t do? I don’t tell the guys. I don’t inform someone that I might be available Wednesday night and if so, would he like to get together, and oh, by the way, he’s the backup to my backup. Telling the guy is fucking rude. I’d basically be saying I’d be happy to give him the amazing gift of myself but that he doesn’t mean as much to me in return. When I’m fucking someone, my goal is make sure they know they’re my gold trophy. Not just something I’m dumping a load into because better options weren’t available.
So I’m interested. What are your deal-breakers? What can a guy say or do, after he’s interested you in meeting, to make you break off the deal? Is it issues of common courtesy, as mine? Or is it more specific, like finding out a guy’s a smoker, or married, or hasn’t visited the dentist in ten years? What behaviors or attributes will make you do a complete one-eighty in your attitude and send a prospect packing? Sound off in the comments below.
And for the record, I certainly did have better offers than that kid, that night. I usually do.