Mr. Birthday Sex and I dated** for a few months in 2009 but haven’t kept in touch since. He wasn’t good, on many levels…
I could have very well forgotten about Mr. Birthday Sex’s existence had he not called to remind me that his birthday was on Wednesday. Our conversation went a little bit as follows:
q: Hi, Mr. Birthday Sex–what’s new?
mr. bs: Not much…my birthday is coming is on Wednesday. I’m turning 29, can you believe it?
q: Congrats! Any big plans?
mr. bs: I have a work dinner that night but I’m hoping I may be able to see you and get some birthday sex. Everyone needs to have sex on the birthday. You need to start the next year of your life right. So are you around on Wednesday night? I’ll make it easy, I’ll come to you (as though there was any chance in hell I would go out of my way to have bad sex)
q: I should be around. Why don’t you send me an meeting request so that I can have it on my calendar
Sure enough, I get into work the next morning and in my email inbox I have a meeting request from Mr. Birthday Sex. I open it and joyfully press the “decline” button. Almost immediately I get an email from him that read “What happened? I thought sex was going to be your birthday gift to me?” As if the idea of getting him a gift even crossed my mind…At this point, I wouldn’t even consider buying him a can of soda.
My gift to you, Mr. Birthday Sex, was letting you believe I would actually have sex with you.
**Dated: went to the bar, let him buy me drinks, came back to my place and fooled around.
