Published by admin on April 16, 2018

Ready Player One, Zombie Ghosting & Exploratory Blowjobs

 

Where to begin.

Last night, I had a mystical experience. After a date. After watching the film, Ready Player One, with my date.

It was really more of a friend date, but we’ll get back to that later.

We’d been talking for a few weeks, mostly through text, after I initially super-swiped right on her on Tinder.

She said that she felt bad for not responding since I had super-swiped on her, so with that bit of cruel sympathy, our interlude–and this story–begins.

Don’t report me, she implored me, after telling me she hated Jews. Of course, she loved and hated Jews. Our first conversation was all over the map, covering conspiracy theories, post-modernism and relationships.

She said that feminism was destroying this country. No longer was it possible to find a man who wanted to be a man. Men were now confused beings because of feminism. She wanted to go back to when men acted like men and women acted like women.

When I said that I cooked and enjoyed cooking for women, she let out a distasteful grunt. I want to cook for my man, she said. What else do I have, if he cooks? She wanted to live in a world where the man provided, and she took care of his needs at home (including cooking for him).

Oh, I want to add that she also said that if she had money, she would probably be a feminist, too. Women with money no longer need men, she told me. Women had become independent; so independent that men had become superfluous.

You might wonder why on God’s green pastures I would continue to talk to this particular humanoid, and it’s because I found her incredibly interesting. It takes a bit of an eccentric to truly appreciate eccentricity, and I had found a veritable gold mine in my new friend.

She was also an amateur astrologist. She correctly diagnosed my inclination towards OCD-ness. And she told me that the reason my hair had grown grey, prematurely, was from over-ejaculation. You’ve lost too much copper, she told me.

Man, this girl had me–though, clearly, we could never be in an actual relationship.

Right?

 

Last night, we’re texting. She had told me about her recent date–actually, two recent dates. Her deal-breaker is when a man wants to go dutch on a first date. But on her last two dates, one guy had (conveniently) left his wallet at home; the other bought the meal, but it was one dish that they then had to split.

She also told me how she gave the first guy what she called an exploratory blowjob near the end of the date. Somehow the conversation had turned toward cock–and his cock–and well, one thing led to another.

She had to see it.

Then she had to taste it.

But it was exploratory in that she didn’t completely suck him off. It was just a sampling.

 

Now, all this is running through my head as I asked her if she wanted to go see a movie. It had been raining near her, and she didn’t want to get wet. I said, Ok, I guess I’ll just go alone.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I used a bit of manipulation in this moment. Clearly, a woman that super-swiped me out of pity would not let me ask her out, reject me, and then allow me go to the movies by myself!

Granted, I would have gone alone, but that’s not the point. I should add that my last bj was probably about 5 months ago, so as unappealing as an exploratory blowjob would have sounded on an average day (with an average amount of regular sex), the idea of someone agreeing to touch any part of my body, especially my penis, was acutely enervating at this particular juncture in time.

Long story long, we meet outside a bar in the rain. You know that feeling when you meet someone for the first time and there is this instant electrical pulse that travels up and down your spine, giving you shivers?

Yeah, well nothing close to that happened, unfortunately.

But our conversations had been really interesting, and as I’m starting to value friendship and interesting people more than hooking up, I decide to just go with the flow and enjoy an evening out with a new person.

We go to the theatre, but the AC isn’t working, so they offer us a refund if the theatre feels too hot. It was hot, but not that hot, but since there was a cheaper theatre down the road, we got our refund–yes, I bought the tickets–and headed to Flipper’s.

I should mention that when I initially invited her to the movies, I told her that I would spring for the tickets, even though it was a friend date. That didn’t stop me from joking as we got to the cashier: Shit, I left my wallet at homecan you pay? 

She laughed, and we went in.

I hadn’t read the book, though I was familiar with the plot for Ready Player One. I also had two good friends who had both read the book and seen the movie who told me it was good.

We were a bit late (having come from the other theatre), so she got the seats and I went back to buy her a snack. Raisinettes.

The movie was incredible. It takes place mostly in a virtual world, a few decades in the future, called The Oasis. And with your VR goggles, you and your avatar can totally experience this wholly other world.

Without getting too entangled in plot, it was a movie with some superheroes, a villain and a love story.

The inventor of the virtual world had created a game that needed to be solved in order to claim the prize of owning The Oasis. Central to solving the game was figuring out that an unrealized kiss between the game’s creator and his date needed fulfillment.

So, we walk out after this amazing world within a world of a movie, and this is when things got strange.

We had basically been communicating as avatars for the past few weeks. Outside the bar, for a few brief moments, we were outside of our avatar suits and saw each other in the real world. Then, we immersed ourselves in this film about two avatars who fell in love–first as avatars, but then in the real world, too.

So, as we walked outside the theatre, around 1am, both in an altered state after this crazy virtual experience, it was like we were outside of our normal avatar selves that we had been playing, in a sense, as well.

The date felt like deja vu.

We reach the car, and we’re doing that weird dance of figuring out how to end this date. This is when I was supposed to kiss her. All signs said she wanted me to kiss her: smile; a lingering, awkward body language not quite sure what to do with itself. It felt as if the whole goddamn Universe, both real and virtual, wanted me to kiss her.

But I didn’t.

I just stood there, with her, awkwardly, saying I had a good time and how it was good to finally meet her.

Don’t get me wrong. I was well aware that I was a kiss and twenty feet away from my car and an exploratory blowjob.

But it didn’t seem right. I wasn’t really into her that way, and given that another woman I had gone on a date with recently told me that I had zombie ghosted her, and promptly blocked me, I didn’t want to make the same (pain-inducing) mistake twice with an actual person, with an actual beating heart.

So, I repeated myself on the fine evening it had been, thanked her for her company, and gave her a hug.

When I got home, though, my mind definitely wandered back to the subject of exploratory blowjobs.

 

C’est la vie.

 

 

 

www.alexobed.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#avatar#Blowjobs#dating#friend date#hookup culture#masturbation#Ready Player One#real world#sex#The Oasis#tinder#Virtual Reality#VR#Zombie ghosting
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