"The Wednesday Wonder" -- that's what my roommate called this guy whom I was seeing. This is before the term "friends with benefits." But we weren't even friends.
I was 23 and had just started teaching. I was living in Del Mar with a roommate, Cindy, also a teacher. I met "John" at a party. He was from Point Loma.
John was getting a master's degree in psychology. I remember he was tall, handsome, smart, funny, and charming -- and a few years older than I was. We agreed to go to a concert the next weekend. I liked him. I thought he would be fun to go places with and do things together.
He never took me anywhere again. After that concert date he wanted to come over to my apartment and get sexual. Even though I was not used to having sex without being in a relationship, and I had had only three previous sex partners, I thought, Okay, I can try and do this -- even though we are not in love -- but I am a liberated woman, and I can do this!
We had sex and for about three months we met -- or, I should say, he came over to my apartment -- on Wednesday nights. We'd drink wine and screw. He would spend the night and leave after I went to work at 7:15 a.m. 7:15! I'd have to get up and go to work -- teach school -- the next day!
He never asked me out for the weekends. He never said he cared for me, and we never went anywhere. He wasn't even curious as to what else I might be doing on a weekend or even if I was seeing someone else.
Three months into this relationship, I had had enough. I realized I was not really enjoying the sex because there wasn't a real relationship or any genuine affection on his part...or even interest. So, one Wednesday I told him a bunch of excuses why I was going to be busy for the next several Wednesdays... thinking that maybe he would ask to see me on a different night.
He didn't ask; he just stopped calling me for two months. I was hurt, but I worked on ways to get over it. Then, after two more months of not hearing from him, he called me one evening. Out of the blue. He said he was "in the area," and could he stop by.
I said, "Sure." He came right over. I gave him a glass of wine, and we talked, and I knew he was thinking, I'm gonna get laid, but at 9 p.m. I said, "Well, John, it has been great seeing you, but I have to get to sleep now. I have to teach early in the morning. Call me again when you are in this area."
He was flabbergasted. I escorted him to the door.
A year later, I ran into him at a wedding in Santa Barbara. He told me he was sorry about "how our relationship had ended" and that he'd like to see me again. He said he had tried to call me but couldn't reach me and "Where are you living now?"
I told him that I had moved back to La Jolla and that I had a new phone number...but I did not give it to him. I said, "Give me your number, and I'll call you." He did, and I never called.
I had a new boyfriend at that point, and I figured John had had his chance, and he blew it. His lack of enthusiasm for me caused me to lose interest in him .
I now figure that he probably had a girlfriend and was squeezing me in on Wednesdays. For all I know, he could have been married. I never knew where he lived or even how to reach him.
I learned a lot from that experience. The biggest: Sex in a vacuum does not appeal to me.
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