Have you ever had sex with a man you were not attracted to ... at all? I have. As a matter of fact, I had sex with said man at a mall.
It was about three weeks into my mall exile, and less than two months after the casting couch. Maybe by the time Semi-Homeless came into my life, I was so beat down that I thought I couldn't do any better. Maybe I was so needy that any form of love was enough. Maybe after being surrounded by Hollywood predators, I needed someone I could push around.
Whatever the reason, Semi-Homeless ranks as my weirdest, most embarrassing, most what-the-hell-was-I-thinking relationship ever. And that's saying a lot.
I was sitting in the Crenshaw Mall food court studying my tarot cards when he came up to me. Semi-Homeless claimed to be 35, but he looked much older. He had a prominent caveman forehead and a pot belly.
So what was the draw?
You have to understand that the only thing I prayed and wished for more fervently than being a successful actress was being a wife. And the one quality that I prized in a potential husband above all else was the capacity to understand my moods and to not be fazed by them.
Semi-Homeless gave me an impromptu psychic reading, proclaiming that I was a "roller-coaster ride" and an "adventure;" that I had a jazzy singing voice; that I looked and acted just like my father; on and on and on until he said the magic phrase, that he and I were soul mates.
Then he immediately did two things right: he bought me a slice of pizza, and he massaged my back. Right before he slipped his hands underneath my shirt and inside my panties, right there in public!
He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere else, and somewhere else turned out to be a stairwell. Where he proceeded to lick parts of me that weren't supposed to be exposed on the back stairs of the Crenshaw Mall. He pulled out a condom, and I said no. I felt like the cheapest of cheap hos, and I barely just managed to pull my clothes on before a security guard came on the scene.
"I need to leave," I said.
He asked if I could drop him off at a vacuum shop a few blocks away.
Another really big turnoff. Semi-Homeless didn't have a car.
I drove him to some random house in the hood so he could pick up a key to this vacuum shop, then to the shop itself. When he asked me to "come inside for a minute" that should have been my cue to leave, but I followed him inside to a little back room, where he tried to finish what we'd started at the Crenshaw Mall.
Sexually, he did nothing for me. I didn't like the way he smelled, and his breath stank. I let him eat of the forbidden fruit, and I gave him nothing in return. I simply said, "I don't want to do this" and got dressed, while he all but burst into tears and confessed his love for me. He wanted to marry me. He was going to take care of me. He was going to come into some money, and he'd be able to help me. He tried again to hump me, and my exact words were, "Get off me!"
He was undeterred. He said with absolute certainty, "You are my soul mate, and one day we're going to look back on this and laugh."
Part of me wanted to believe him. But honestly? I was physically sick to my stomach.
3 comments:
Physical intimacy is a very important part of love. If you did not feel it, it was not love for you.
For all you know, he was crying for his unsatisfied cock. :P
Kisses.
I know I have been there but my mind won't let me remember it know. The only thing I can remember was all the way back to middle school and kissing someone i was not attracted. By the time I become an adult i was really good at seeing the attractiveness of most men. The few exceptions I usually keep at arms length.
Trust. I've had my own "Robyn in Waiting to Exhale" moments...
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