Rules of Engagement

So as some of you know, my boundaries with regard to “dating” began and ended with the strict rule that I DON’T SLEEP WITH MARRIED MEN.

I vehemently stuck to that edict, rationalizing that there were plenty of lives I could ruin without wandering into adulterous terrirtory. I always understood the hypocrisy involved, and were I ever dumb enough to forget, a cadre of assholes on the site were only too anxious to remind me.

The phrase “But you’re married too!” haunts my dreams to this very day.

But now it’s many years later and I’ve come to a point where it’s time to dust off my rulebook and refresh the contents. Help me, won’t you?

1. No married men.

Meh. This one might have been overrated. I considered that maybe I’d be better off with someone in the same position as I am. This way, it almost guarantees that there will be no development of “feelings”, ergo no broken hearts. But the reality remains that I am eminently loveable. I just can’t help it. And truth be told, it ain’t “love” that they’e feeling: it’s the overwhelming sexual satisfaction that they mistake for love. But hey- who hasn’t done that at some point, amirite?

God, I’m arrogant.

Seriously though- I have run into situations where feelings become an issue and I really don’t need to deal with that.

So maybe married men are where it’s at.

Or maybe I can stab myself in the eye with a rusty eggbeater.

Whenever I consider broadening that particular horizon, I’m reminded of three important words: Bitches Be Crazy. And it’s true. How do I know? Because I’m one of those crazy bitches. I DON’T SHARE MY TOYS. Or my food, but that’s a different post altogether.

2. No overnight stays

This rule ain’t going anywhere. I can barely tolerate waking up with MYSELF, let alone some mouth-breathing troglodyte with bad breath and morning wood.

I tried it with THAT GUY (I pretty much had to threaten him to get him to agree), but it was NOTHING like the movies. We didn’t wake up slowly and reach for one another’s naked silhouette in the dappled sunlight while Toto played in the background. It was more like we woke up, he coughed into his hanky, rubbed his aching, arthritic joints and asked for his morning tonic to help him “move his bowels along”.

Of course I exaggerate. He didn’t call it his “tonic”. It was actually a “colonic” and I didn’t want any part of that.

So yeah: No pajama parties.

3. My way, or the highway.

This was more about safety. I will NOT accompany you to your house- EVER. No, I don’t want to see your collection of rare porcelain spoons. No, I don’t care that your pregnant miniature schnauzer is about to drop a litter. No, I don’t want you to cook for me.

I stand by this rule. Safety first.

4. Condoms are non-negotiable.

That one is etched in stone.

5.  No sex on the first date.

Well, this one is tricky. I used to stand firm to this rule, but then I met THAT GUY and between you, me and the flower arrangement in my bathroom, we got down and dirty in warp speed. In my slutty defense, we had chatted for 6 months prior to meeting. Plus I was sexually parched and his penis is HUGE. (Don’t look so surprised— I’ve mentioned that before).

I guess I’m going to make this one “optional”. If I find someone I feel THAT comfortable with, I’ll open myself to the possibility of giving up the goods from the get go. What I WON’T do is have sex with him to solidify our “relationship”. The bond has to be there first  PERIOD.

6. Yeah. I got nothing.

So I guess those are the new and improved Rules of Engagement. I’m sure I’ll have to tweak them here or there, but hopefully my Wise Readers will fill in any blanks I forgot.

Not THOSE blanks, you perverts. I have a vibrator for that 😂.