It was one of those humid and refreshing evenings in Johannesburg, the type that had just a bit of chill in the air that served only to cool the layer of moist heat that settled over your skin after a summer thunderstorm. I loved those types of evenings.
It was on this evening that I finally met Jebediah.
We had been talking for months and months. The actual meeting part, however, alluded us. He was chronically shy and introverted, or so he claimed. I later came to the conclusion that in actual fact he was a douchebag in disguise. That’s the thing with the quiet, nerdy types- they are possibly more douchey than the rest of them. I am, of course, generalizing but I do have some experience when it comes to dating geeks and nerds, the intelligent, quiet and introverted types. In fact, they are more my type than anything else. I find them interesting and quirky.
But that is what makes it all the more deceptive. Some of these lads will claim quite verbally and more often than not that they are the good guys, that they are the guys who have been hard done by in life, looks, dating and so on. Perhaps it is this cunning and this wit that makes them so adept at playing games, or maybe it is their own self-absorption that blinds them to the harsh reality that other people are bound to get hurt- whatever it is, Jebediah was officially the last self-proclaimed geek that I ever went near.
Anyway, as I was saying before, it took us months to finally meet. When we did, it was to play a round of adventure golf outdoors, followed by some bowling, followed by some dinner, followed by some heated snogging in the parking lot. For this little excursion I was the one who had to drive some 40 minutes in order to meet him in a shopping mall that was close to his abode. I was naïve and much younger than I am now, and quite possibly very horny, so I was wearing my anti-douchebaggery goggles at the time.
During the date, I showed off my shockingly poor ability at any hand-eye coordination sport. It must have amused him greatly. He was nice enough and we clicked rather well. Jebediah was good-looking, a bit chunky. He reminded me a bit of a slobbering Saint Bernard.
He ended the date with a lengthy kissing session which went on and on and on. Good, right?
Well, the next day he was decidedly off. I received a “good morning” text to which I reply in my normal delightful way, to which he replied, “Gud.” He never used poor spelling. A bit put out, I told him I enjoyed meeting him and hoped to do it again.
I left him be after that. Message received loud and clear, right? And I moved on to greener pastures. Happily, I might add. I was not pining after him, I was not obsessing or infatuated. The date had been nice but that was it.
However, this was not a simple good bye. Jebediah had this odd way of drawing me back. After weeks of not hearing from him, I would receive a message from him out of the blue. It would be friendly and amiable and coaxing, teasing me that I had lost interest in him. Eventually the weeks shortened to days and the days to hours and soon we were back to our daily communication. It became flirtatious and openly naughty, until one evening he invited me over.
His excuse for not contacting me right after the first date? His grandmother had died and he had to take care of his mom for a time. I suppose that was acceptable. I didn’t dwell on it. He had invited me over, right?
Well he lived in a disgusting little hovel. It was this small apartment on somebody’s property. He claimed he had just moved in and hadn’t had time to unpack or buy any furniture (he moved in a month ago). I sat on the floor and drank a vodka to ease the transition of inhabiting such conditions (I am a fussy and spoilt girl- spoilt by myself). At least he had made some sort of effort to maintain his bedroom, though it was sparse and the linen smelt a bit dank.
In any event, the sex was good. I liked sleeping with Jebediah. It was probably some of the best sex I had ever had. The chunky boy had stamina and moves, yo! And there was no awkwardness that usually exists during the first time. It just sort of flowed.
We cuddled for a bit afterwards and I was about to drift off to sleep when he left the bed. Curious, I sat up, thinking he was about to chuck me out.
“Just need the toilet,” he informed me. “Sleep.”
The toilet was in the other room, separated by at least ten feet of space and two closed doors between us, so I am not sure if Jebediah thought maybe it was possible that I would not hear the chaos that would ensue in the water closet or that I simply fell asleep in the speed of light and would not notice.
I fear he may have consumed a diabolical feast of Chimmichangas or some intense hot periperi nachos, perhaps his colon was undergoing an intensive flushing procedure, for the sounds that I heard that evening were akin to the contents of a big pot of steaming curry being tossed into a sink. Oh Jesus, and the trapped pockets of gas that heralded the onslaught and echoed against the bowl of the toilet…
Horrified, I covered my head with the smelly linen and tried to ignore the clamor. It went on for 30 minutes or so and when he returned to bed, I fiercely pretended that I was indeed asleep.
When I left the next day, I vowed I would not be put off by the post-coital events of the night before. After all, they were simply bodily functions that were (fearfully) normal. These were some things that could be changed at a later date when we were more comfortable with each other. For instance, I could send him outside into a bush where he could dig a hole and happily continue his business.
However, after this encounter, Jebediah continued in his strange and aloof way and after another “k”, I figured that we had run our course now. When I didn’t hear from him in almost a month, I figured it was time to move on.
I can’t remember exactly when or how long after our first night together, but some time must have passed. It was winter, that much I am certain of, and I had been dating a guy I had been quite fond of only to find out via Facebook that the heinous creature had another girlfriend. Naturally, I called upon the assistance of my cousin and we went out to drink my sorrows away. In my drunken haze, I was reckless and no longer hurt, so I began messaging Jebediah. I do not remember what my drunk persona said to that boy, but that bitch has my back (sometimes). When we returned to my apartment that evening that was currently occupied by 3 other women, Jebediah came over.
As my room was a right mess, I was hastily trying to prove I didn’t live like a pig when the doorbell rang. One of my most sarcastic friends at the time answered the door and to my mortification she told him, “Another one for Ash? Hang on, I’ll get her. Ash! Another one here for you!”
Jebediah spent the night and most of the next day with me. I saw him again the next night. And gradually we became almost a regular occurrence. It was nice and I enjoyed our nights together. During the day we would mostly message each other, sometimes flirty and sometimes playfully argumentative.
I was feeling bold one night that I was supposed to visit him. We had spoken at some length about turn ons and fantasies so I opted to indulge in one of his.
I had a black coat that covered the tops of my thighs so I wore that and nothing else other than a pair of black heels. In winter.
Freezing, I was driving to his apartment when he called me and asked me to pick up some McFlurries for us. Sure, why the fuck not?
Well I sure as hell could not go into MacDonald’s dressed like that so I went through the drivethru only to receive knowing looks from the ladies serving me as the tops of my very naked thighs were exposed. God.
Perhaps I was misinformed and men don’t actually like girls who show up to their apartment wearing nothing but a black coat and bearing ice cream as gifts, but Jebediah did not invite me over again after that evening. When he turned aloof and cold this time, so did I. I grew tired of the game he played and eventually I lost contact with him altogether until out of the blue, last August, he sent out a tentative message to establish contact with me again. Maybe the smell of freshly jilted and broken engagement oozed in the subconscious of all that knew me once and now, but I did not take kindly to the gesture.
I learnt a lot from this relationship- douchebags come in many shapes and sizes. Girls, don’t let an articulate geek misinform you of his actual intentions. When it came straight down to it, Jebediah was looking for a serious relationship but not with a girl like me. I was his back up, his hook up for whenever he felt lonely, horny, depressed… I was his emotional security net. It is an easy thing to be and it is even easier to use someone for those exact purposes, but it is cruel.
You’re feeling lonely? Deal with it. Get a plant or a pet rock.
You’re feeling down? Join the club! Seriously, sort that shit out though in a healthy way.
Your self-esteem is dragging on the floor and you need uplifting? Go to gym, brush your teeth and shower, get your mother to tell you what a handsome boy you are.
What you should absolutely NOT do? Use another person for a quick emotional fuckfest fix.
Self awareness, folks. The rule applies to all: don’t be a fucking asshole. #ashrants