I had been dating The Bassist for the better part of the spring and summer. I met him through one of his band mates at one of their shows. We hit it off right away. Our first date was just a couple of days after we had met. In fact, just five minutes into our first date he asked me if I would go on a second date with him the very next night!
Luckily we had a great time that first night, and I was excited to see him the next day. He had great tickets to a baseball game.

We spent the rest of the summer exploring New York City together. Each date we would meet in Grand Central and pick a new and different neighborhood to go have dinner in. One night we were down in the West Village at a hole in the wall Italian restaurant and the next we were on the Upper East Side at a fancy, fine dining restaurant.

One night I was driving to his apartment because we were supposed to go to a concert. I was about 10 minutes away from him when I got into a car accident. This guy had pulled out of his street and pulled right into me. The entire passenger side of my car was damaged. I called the police, called my mom, then I called The Bassist. The Bassist offered to come to where I was to wait with me for the cops and to make sure nothing happened to me. He got in a cab and came right there. It took nearly two hours for the cops to arrive.

While we were waiting for the cops we were both sitting on the hood of my car. That’s when he dropped the bomb.
He told me that he didn’t want to continue dating me and that he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend. He had recently begun talking to her again and wanted to see if things would work out.

He couldn’t have waited? I was in the midst of a minor-panic attack, my car was totaled and he had to choose then to break up with me? He was so laid back and casual, you would have thought he was telling me that he wasn’t in the mood for Chinese food that night.

Several years later he told me that he didn’t think he was that much of a jerk to me because we hadn’t slept together. If we had slept together it would have been much worse.
Jerk.

I don’t actually remember meeting the politician. As far as I’m concerned my first introduction to his was his phone call to me.

At the time I was a political aide for local politician and as such I attended campaign events most nights. I met a lot of people.

But back to the phone call. I was in the car driving from one campaign event to another when my cell phone rang (not very unusual) so I picked it up and there was a man on the other end (re)introducing himself. His name was familiar (he hailed from a political family) but I really didn’t remember meeting him. He proceeded to explain that he had lied to party headquarters to get my phone number and very much wanted to take me out for a drink. Even though I didn’t remember who he was or what he looked like I agreed to the date. It was inevitable that we would run into each other again on the campaign trail, so this would save me embarrassment later.

We met at an upscale local bar and started to trade stories. We knew a lot of the same people and had a lot to talk about. In that first date he told me he was 29 years old. I was just 21, but had always dated men much older than I was. I didn’t think anything of it.

We continued dating through the rest of the summer and even went away together. Things eventually just fizzled out.
Several years later he was elected to public office. When I read his official bio it stated his age, and either my math was way off or he had misled me about his age.

It turns out that he had shaved 5 years off of his life. Five years! I guess women aren’t the only ones trying to stay young!

I had been dating The Bassist for the better part of the spring and summer. I met him through one of his band mates at one of their shows. We hit it off right away. Our first date was just a couple of days after we had met. In fact, just five minutes into our first date he asked me if I would go on a second date with him the very next night!
Luckily we had a great time that first night, and I was excited to see him the next day. He had great tickets to a baseball game.

We spent the rest of the summer exploring New York City together. Each date we would meet in Grand Central and pick a new and different neighborhood to go have dinner in. One night we were down in the West Village at a hole in the wall Italian restaurant and the next we were on the Upper East Side at a fancy, fine dining restaurant.

One night I was driving to his apartment because we were supposed to go to a concert. I was about 10 minutes away from him when I got into a car accident. This guy had pulled out of his street and pulled right into me. The entire passenger side of my car was damaged. I called the police, called my mom, and then I called The Bassist. The Bassist offered to come to where I was to wait with me for the cops and to make sure nothing happened to me. He got in a cab and came right there. It took nearly two hours for the cops to arrive.

While we were waiting for the cops we were both sitting on the hood of my car.

That’s when he dropped the bomb.

He told me that he didn’t want to continue dating me and that he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend. He had recently begun talking to her again and wanted to see if things would work out.

He couldn’t have waited? I was in the midst of a minor-panic attack, my car was totaled and he had to choose then to break up with me? He was so laid back and casual, you would have thought he was telling me that he wasn’t in the mood for Chinese food that night.

Several years later he told me that he didn’t think he was that much of a jerk to me because we hadn’t slept together. If we had slept together it would have been much worse.
Jerk.

The fireman and I had dated on and off all through out my early twenties. He was my in between guy, and I was his in between girl. You know what I’m talking about: whenever one of was in between relationships we would call the other and spend a couple of weeks going out, flirting and fucking. Then once we were ready to move on, we did. It was never discussed, but it seemed to be an unspoken understanding.

So one night, after visiting several bars together, we had decided it was best to leave the car where it was and walk back to his apartment. While we were waling back we would periodically take a make out break. Where ever we were, right on the sidewalk, we’d kiss and grope a bit then keep walking. We were a few blocks away from his place when he had an idea. He suggested that we sneak into his firehouse and fuck in the back of a fire truck. At 3am, after boat loads of drinks it sounded like a great idea. So we walked over to the firehouse and he let us into the back door and led me into the bay where the trucks are parked. I was terrified. In my imagination the alarm was going to go off at any minute and we would be surrounded by all his colleagues.

Even was he was pulling down my pants and bending me over the equipment in the back of the truck I assumed the worst. But it seemed to be a quiet night that night. No alarms, no one up walking around late at night, just the two of us in the back of this massive fire truck.

It was probably one of the most thrilling and sexy nights of my life. I was bent over, holing onto a hose, with the fireman behind me grabbing my tits.

After we were finished we continued our walk back to his place where were both passed out.
I have to say, it’s pretty exciting when you get to check a major fantasy off of the list!

I had been house-sitting at a very posh home for some friends of mine one summer; I went out to run some errands and while I was doing so I drive past a police cruiser with two officers inside. As I drove past they both turned their heads around to check me out. One even waived. In my rearview mirror I could see them pulling into a Dunkin Donuts, so I decided to do what any rational girl would do: pull a U-turn and follow them. I pulled into the lot after them and when I went inside they were both in line, when they turned around and saw me they both got a bit flustered. I acted cool, pretended not to notice. After they got their coffees they didn’t leave right away, but in stead there stayed and waited for me to order my iced coffee and then jumped in a paid. I tried to refuse, but they insisted. They said it was only right to buy a cup of coffee for a beautiful woman. We ended up chatting a bit and I called them on their move in the car. They seemed like pros.

They wanted to make plans with me for when they were off their shift, so I mentioned that I was house-sitting and perhaps a cocktail on the porch would be nice. So we agreed that they would come by after work with some wine.

I went back to the house, showered, changed, and cleaned up a bit. Well, about an hour later I happened to catch a glimpse out the front window and saw that the cruiser was parked outside. I guess they couldn’t wait. They rang the doorbell and came inside for a little while. Before long they had to get back to work, but assured me that they would in fact be back later.

At about seven o’clock, the door bell rang again. It was the cops, this time in their street clothes. It was pretty clear that they had both gone home, showered and changed before they came to meet me. They had with them a magnum of Yellow Tail merlot and a PBA t-shirt for me.
At one point, I’m not sure if they flipped coins or had an agreement, but one guy stepped outside to make a phone call. I was sitting on top of the kitchen island talking to the other cop when he leaned in and kissed me. We ended up making out on top of the kitchen island for a while, then we moved to the living room. I’m not quite sure where the other guy was that whole time, but I didn’t mind that he was gone.

After we had finished groping and petting we got back to talking and the next thing I knew all three of us were sitting together again.
When they left I finished the bottle of wine and went to bed, content with my decision to pull a U-turn and make those cops meet me.

I was out at a club in Manhattan one night with a group of guys some of whom I’d known for ages others I had just met. One of the guys was a promoter for the club so we had our own table with bottle services (that I didn’t have to pay for). I was out on the dance floor with one of the guys when the music cut out and someone started to make an announcement. They said “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight. Please turn towards the stage for a special performance. I would like to introduce Miss Brittany Spears!!!!!”
Sure enough, there was Brittany just a few feet away from us, dancing and lip syncing to her latest singles. We all stood and watched, and as this happened, I felt “The Hand’s” hand slid down my pants. This guy had a lot of balls. Here we were in the middle of a high night club and he was going to try to cop a feel. I was feeling a bit loose from the open bar, so we stood there and made out while Brittany performed for us. I’m not sure who saw us, but at that point I just didn’t care, I was having fun, and got to tell a great story about the surprise performance. Well, both surprise performances I guess!

Have you ever kissed two men in the same day?
I have.
Have you ever kissed two men who share the same first and last name (no not father and son) in the same day?
Ever kissed two men with the same first and last name in the course of your life?
I have.
I’m not bragging, it probably wasn’t my finest 24 hours, but it happened.
In one 24 hour period I made out with two guys with the exact same name. And we’re not talking John Smith here, this wasn’t a common name.
I’m not quite sure how it came to pass, but I sure did. And I’ll admit that at the time I did feel a certain sense of pride.

What’s the strangest way you’ve ever been hit on?
For me, this one has to rank in the top 5.
It was a salad. Yep. A salad.

I used to take the commuter train to and from work each day and when you ride the train long enough you get to know the conductors.

One afternoon, I had my lunch packed with me which included a store bought salad. The Conductor grabbed the bag, opened it, peeked in, and gave me a little bit of a hard time for buying a salad. He said it would me more economical and healthier for me to make one myself. He also said that he would bring a homemade one for me the next day.
He wasn’t kidding.

The very next day when I got on the train he had a big plastic bag with a plastic container for me, filled with a salad. I didn’t take a good look at it until I got to work. This wasn’t an ordinary salad, he had clearly worked hard on it! It likely could have fed four: mixed greens with grilled chicken, tomatoes, peppers, onions (packed in a separate baggie), gorgonzola cheese and a side container of dressing.

Here’s the kicker though. I wrote a note to me on the lid and included his phone number. Not only that. But he wrote it in permanent marker!

When I didn’t want to go out on a date with him, he asked for the container back!

I met the liar through friends. His lie wasn’t a big lie, maybe it was a stretch of the truth. When he told me his name he altered it a bit, to make himself sound a bit more exotic (Think of a guy named Martin, who introduces himself as Martine). It wasn’t until we had been dating for a month or so that it came out that he had lied. All of a sudden in that one moment, he lost his mystique.
I guess I had too, because shortly there after he said these exact words to me
“I just don’t think that we should keep sleeping together. I would love to stay friends and keep hanging out. But no more sex”.
Now, here’s the thing about that. If anyone had to work as hard as I had to work while we were fucking, they’d laugh in his face. He wasn’t all that good in bed, but I rocked his world over and over and over again. If anyone should be asking for a break, it should have been me!
I’m sure you’ve figured out that not only did we stop sleeping together we also stopped speaking to and seeing one another!

The Electrician took me on one of the strangest dates I have even been on. We had been out on a few dates together, and frankly I wasn’t all that in to him, but he was persistent, and I felt bad. Anyway, on this particular date we were supposed to go out to dinner. So I got dressed in tight jeans, a cute little top, and pink heels. He picked me up and when I got in the car he said that we needed to make one stop before we got to the restaurant. I assumed he needed gas or had to stop at the bank. So when we pulled in front of a house instead I thought it was a bit odd.
The Electrician stopped to pick up his friend to come out on our date with us. This wasn’t even where it got weird.

All through dinner I felt like a third wheel on their date. They talked about growing up together, compared notes about girls they had slept with, and joked around. I sat there watching them. They wouldn’t let me get a word in edge-wise.
Still not the weirdest part of the date.

After dinner we all piled into the car. I thought they were going to drop me off at home. Actually, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had said that they wanted to both have sex with me and invited me to have a three-some.
But instead they wanted to scope out good places to hunt deer, and I was going with them. So the next thing I knew, I was sitting in the back set in the middle of the woods while they used flash lights to look for deer. I should have been scared, alone in the woods with two men I didn’t really know all that well, but it was just too funny. We did just make one stop, but three. And then they dropped me off at home.