If we do our research on just what a soggy biscuit actually is, we find an entry on the Urban Dictionary (no affiliation to the Urban Dater, naturally) that explains, in horrifying detail, a male masturbating game; some dudes are spanking it and one unfortunate guy has to eat something… I think I just lost my future lunch. However, that's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is sharing in dating.
You see, I have a buddy of mine, Larry, who I've known for a long time. We have similar tastes in women. He's dated girls that were attractive to me, they were tall, lithe and had awesome personalities. Yet I never made a play at them as I thought it would be disrespectful to do so even after they were couples no more.
Then, one crazy summer, I noticed a trend and I wasn't sure that I was alarmed by it. The truth was, i wasn't quite sure what to make of it. I noticed that Larry had been talking to the ghosts of my romantic past. He wasn't dating any of them, per se, and nothing funny was going on. Actually, could really care less if anything actually WAS going on. To be more clear, saying I cared less, indicates that I cared at all, which I clearly didn't. Not one iota! I committed this morsel of intel to memory, I had a feeling I could use this later.
Let us fast forward a couple of months. I was dating this gal Rebecca. She was getting intense pretty quick and I couldn't really handle her, shall we say, zeal. We had been together and had some unspectacular sex… Actually, let me go off on a tangent here.
Sex. Sex is awesome and great and rainbows and shiny gorgeousness falling from the sky. It is. However, sex for the sake of sex kinda sucks. Sure people f*ck like rabbits when horomones take hold… But there's more to it than that. Let me explain. When I was younger and out every night of the week. I ate at fast food joints and the defacto chain offerings, Friday's, Denny's et al. For the time, that was fine. Then I began to grow into myself, I realized that I was eating and spending hard earned money on shitty food. At some point the quality of where I ate and the company I kept, as well as the places I chose to spend my time became more important to me. Sex. Sex has become the same for me. Not every sexual experience is mind blowing or body numbing, but shouldn't it be, when conditions permit? Quality in sex is important to me and it became more important because sex wasn't a good or service that I was in short supply of, therefore I could dictate (no pun intended) when I was going to get laid and discern the quality of said encounter ahead of time. Quality bests quantity every day ending in ‘y' kids.
Back to your regularly scheduled blog post! So after a few sessions of uninspiring coitus I knew something had to give. I wasn't crazy about telling a gal I was done, at that point in my life. Enter Larry. I began to plan get together and nights out drinking with Larry, Rebecca and assorted friends. I set it up so that Larry would swoop in on the gal. In doing so, I hope that would either push Rebecca away or into the reaching arms of Larry. Now, I realize this is a passive aggressive pussy move on my part. I get it. It's amazing what some guys will go through to AVOID having sex, nearly as amazing to see what they will do to have sex. It worked better than I expected. Rebecca went straight for Larry and was all over him that night and I didn't care, as I chatted it up with everyone else. I saw Rebecca a few more times until she unceremoniously stopped calling or returning Larry's calls altogether.
This played out a couple more times over the Summer with Ashley, a super immature water polo player, with a rack to die for and Penelope, a heroically endowed lady in her own right. When it became clear that interest had waned or, in the case of Ashley, I had just become fed up with irritating game-play (which, of course, i was guilty of, too), I would bring in Larry, who seemed to have a way of throwing himself at these women and absorbing their attention, pretty much leaving me in the clear. The funny was that in doing so, these women had tried to make me jealous by going after Larry. That's not to say that Larry didn't have his own merits, he has a ton of them and his far more charming than I am.
In a way it was a game of Soggy Biscuits, fortunately, not in the literal sense. The bait and switch method worked for a time until one of my friends called me out on “Tom Dickery” ways. I didn't need such a reminder, I knew I was a jerk. I almost considered this a post for my “Confessions of a Jerk” series….
Is there a lesson to be learned here? I hope so. Not that I'm trying to teach anyone in this post, I hope, more than anything, it serves as a tutorial on what not to do with a woman's heart.
Until next time, don't be a cock face!