Always Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide

As I re-entered the world of singledom, after the South African, some things became disturbingly clear

I realized that I have a post break-up habit.  Some people get a drastic hair cut. Some people gain or even lose 15 lbs. For me, after a relationship ends I tend to become a true believer in free love.   During which I made good use of all of my gentleman’s socializing networks. I could be found chatting with guys at the gym, at work, at home.  I would even travel the length of Manhattan to partake in an extra long lunch break. Just to clarify, this was NOT my prior lunch date.  Within the midst of my newly rejuvenated spurt of free love, there were a couple observations that shocked and confused me. 

Way before the South African existed in my word, I chatted with this handsome Brooklyn Boy. We met on OkCupid and we tried to set up a really real date on a couple different occasions. Unfortunately it never really worked out, so we both just gave up. While on sowing my newly found wild oats, I came across the same Brooklyn Boy, on a slightly different website, Manhunt. We chatted again and this time we were determined finally to make our date happen. Since we were chatting on a site that had the byline of “Get on, Get off” I thought I should come clean with my status. He quickly became excited and he said, “So am I, now you can fuck me raw!” Clearly, I should’ve given him a different nickname with the initials B. B. I politely declined and then literally got off. 

There was another guy, who I chatted with for quite some time.  We talked about everyday random stuff and not just about a mutual love for our freedoms.  Finally, we decided to finally set up a time to meet. Again, because we didn’t meet on Manhunt and I wasn’t sure what his intentions were, I told him my status and lo-and-behold he said he was also poz. Ok, great. There should be no weirdness. Oh, was I wrong. I also told him that I always play safe and he proceeded to tell me that he never uses protection and he basically apologized saying that he hates “rubbers” and he would never have sex with someone who insisted on using them. 

I was baffled. I know I talk a lot about my disappointment and frustration with negative guys who turn me down because of my status, now I was turned down by a positive guy who didn’t date me because I always use a condom! I felt like I had just stepped into some bizzaro universe. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I completely understand the allure of this particular practice, especially with another positive person.  But forgeting  the personal risk factors involved, I think people tend to forget that there are other STDs out there. I have a hard enough time expressing my status to a prospective date; imagine adding Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, Herpes, or Syphilis to the mix! 

Another thing that completely perplexed me was the amount of people that ask me if I "parTy". I am not that naïve that I am completely unaware of this practice and on prior occasions I have been asked if I "parTy and play". And I would be remiss not to mention I did try meth once. Luckily for me the only addictive substance my body will let me consume is chocolate.  But day after day, I found myself bombarded with that question, “Do you parTy?” No, “Hello.” No, “How are you?” Just “Do you parTy?”

I would respond: “Why yes I do! When my niece turned five, you should have seen me tearing up that Disney karaoke.” 

I love my oral fixations too much to give myself meth mouth and I love my penis way too much to swing it around at every Tom, Dick, and Harry without any protection. You can call me a fuddy-duddy, but I still head the advice given to me Mr. Jiminy Cricket and I always let my conscience by my guide.