Sex Francisco

Since moving to San Francisco a year and a half ago I've had my fair share of dating excitement and more than my share of misadventures. I've been told that some of the more detailed accounts are worth writing down for posterity and perhaps to allow others to laugh at me.

There was the 23 year old from the hostel with the amazing tattoo of The Little Prince on her arm and the shreadded Courtney Lovetype dress who was utterly wasted and jumped in front of a moving van and flashed her undies at the scary dudes in the car. They heckled her and my friends and I pulled her off before I got my ass kicked. Later on, after showing virtually no interest in me, she abruptly and awkwardly pulled me in for a kiss while my mouth was filled with nachos and guacamole. This took place in the in a loud, brightly-lit taqueria. Not the most romantic of settings. She did this a few times until I decided the best thing to do was just leave. While walking down the street she started trying to remove my pants to have sex with me. I had to ask her several times to please keep her clothes on until we got to my place. I found out later that she had consumed almost an entire bottle of Jagermeister shortly before I met up with her.

There was the social worker gal who I met on-line who neglected to mention that she was on crutches and suffered from osteonecrosis. A rare and terrible disease that had begun to kill the bones in her legs and would likely force her to become wheel-chair bound in the near future. The literal translation of soteonecrosis is "death of the bone."

There were a handful of utterly forgetful on-line initiated meet-ups that were forgotten almost before they were over.

There were a three amazing women that I met and became very close friends with.

There was the attractive, clinical psychologist puma* who literally picked me up via MySpace. On our second date I ended up helping her euthanize her cat and had intense grief sex. This turned into a routine of bi-monthly appointment sex. After a few months of this I was wondering how best to end things with her when I got a very well-written and professional diagnosis of how "we were not adequately meeting one another's socio-emotional needs." It was so technically worded that I almost expected to find an attached bill for services rendered.

There was the recent divorcee who suffered from acute adult A.D.D. who couldn't sit still for more than five minutes without getting up to move around and would become utterly mesmirized by shiny things and trinkets in stores. On one occasion she brought her car to a screaching hault so she could get out and run over to look at some flowers in somebody's yard. There were cars that had to stop behind us. She also liked to randomly share the most intimate details including the time she had a botched laser eloctrolisis performed on her bikini area and now had a "cheetah pussy." Her words, not mine. Then when I pulled away from her and her "issues" she became incredibly persistant in calling, emailing, texting and facebook messaging me a few times a day. She just left me another voice mail message telling me how she was listening to "our mix CD" and realized just how much she missed me and my company.

There was the woman who was a few inches taller than me that weirded me out. She also seemed to be surgically attached to her pot pipe and smoked it continuously to the point that her clothes were so infused with the scent of ganja that they'd probably give you a mild high if you were to smoke them.

There was a short-lived flirtation and one time fling with a gal who was in a bicycle dancing troup and was only into non-exclusive open relationships. She told me she was currently seeing five different guys.

Now, after wading through all that social muck, I find myself in the longest and most enjoyable of all my San Francisco relationships where the young woman and I really care about each other, we click really well physically and we enjoy spending long stretches of time with one another. Strong feelings have begun to form and of course she's going to be moving out of the country in a few months time. So, I find myself balancing having a good time with protecting my feelings in what feels like some kind of expiration dating. Life is short and you have to find enjoyment where you can.

It's been extremely interesting and eventful and I've left out half of the other missteps and embarrassing twists and turns that frequent social drinking and a summer of not having to work can help create but really I'm getting quite exhausted by it all. While I want to have all kinds of interesting experiences and explore the mysterious world of women, I must admit that this city and it's women are starting to seriously wear me out. I'm hoping that I'll be getting my second wind very, very soon. Otherwise it could make for a long, cold, lonely, winter.

*young cougar