How to Play the Field

[vc_row][vc_column][title type="subtitle-h6"]Cedar Fox[/title][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width="11/12"][vc_column_text]Walk into a bar. See a man with Gisele Bündchen-like hair and think, “What an interesting man.” Start a conversation with him. Tell him about your current boyfriend of eight months and how certain you are that he is the one. Watch the longhaired man scoff in a cool sort of way and tell you he does not believe in monogamy. Listen to him tell you that doesn’t think love should be limited in a relationship. He says that he can love more than one person at once, and it doesn’t diminish the love he feels for each woman. He says it’s called polyamory. Find it to be the most radical and wonderful idea you’ve ever heard. Go to your pastor that weekend and say you are in love with a man from the city who does not believe in monogamy. He will tell you that the man is bound to be selfish. Do not believe you pastor. Break up with your boyfriend.On Friday afternoon, walk into a Victoria’s Secret. Buy one of those “Bombshell Adds-2- Cup sizes” push-up bras and a satin lace thong to match. Before you check out, spend five nervous minutes mulling over a pair of black crotchless panties until a thin, dark haired sales associate walks by and asks you if you’re finding everything you need. Drop the crotchless panties on the floor, leave them there, and mutter something about having too many crotchless panties at home already.Next, drive to Walgreens. Spend ten minutes reading the back of the Nair box and Sally Hansen Cold Wax Strip box. Decide waxing sounds sexier. Go home. Lock yourself in your bathroom. Begin the painful process before you lose your nerve. Rip the first strip and let out a scream. It’s the kind of one-second high pitched screech that leaves your face pulsing red with embarrassment, even though no one is around to hear you. Scrutinize the wax strip and the forest of pubic curls stuck to the yellow-beige goo and decide you must finish the job. Wax all but the most sensitive areas. Examine the finished product with a hand mirror. Realize you like your vagina and are excited to show it off.Return to the bar with the longhaired man. Talk about the time in high school when yourAunt Gene got cancer and died, because it makes you sound more dynamic. The longhaired man listens intently and asks you if you want to go somewhere more private to talk. Say yes.The longhaired man takes you to an apartment with base walls. He explains that he wants to be able to pack up his things in less than hour and move on, because he lives an unpredictable life. When he is done talking your thong is wet and sticking to your hairless crotch. He makes love to you for an hour and half. When you are exhausted and think that it is over you lie in disbelief that sex could ever take that long. Then he turns to you and asks, “Done already?” Lie and say, “No, I just have to use the bathroom.” Go into the bathroom for 15 minutes and catch your breath. Worry that you’ll never be able to keep up with the longhaired man’s needs and that he’s disappointed in the sex thus far. Decide you are ready to go home. Walk out of the bathroom. He tells you that you are beautiful. Feel a wave a heat rush over your chest and face. Let him fuck you for another 35 minutes.Two weeks later you have seen and made love to the longhaired man almost every day. He tells you he can’t only sleep with you. You cry, even though you knew this was coming. He tells you to try it out. He explains he does not like you less when he is with someone else; he just likes them as well. Don’t believe him. Get really depressed for three days. Notice a man with a manbun and scruffy beard at H&M and decide it is time to try the longhaired man’s theory. Flirt with him and wait around for his shift to end. Ask him to get a drink. Let him take you home. Manbun man is good in bed. Wonder why you listened to your pastor your whole life.Get a new apartment in the city center. Start wearing combat boots and saying things like, “I want to get my septum pierced.” Your friends are confused. Only one is supportive. Start having sex with him. Wonder if his desire to fuck you is the only reason he is supportive. Ask all of your partners what they think love means. They all tell you different things. Decide women know best.Go to Urban Outfitters for more delicate bras and panties. Start wearing less make up. Wear a rainbow bracelet. Go to a dimly lit bar. Sit alone at the bar and order a Tanqueray and tonic. Make eyes at the redhead across the bar. Look away like you don’t notice her moving down the bar towards you. Let the redheaded woman hit on you. Make out with the redheaded woman in a bathroom stall. Realize you’re not ready for a face full of pussy, leave, and call the longhaired man. The longhaired man won’t answer because he’s fucking another girl right now. You try manbun man, but he works the night shift as a custodian for the Country Inn & Suites.Turn around and go back into the bar. See the redheaded woman getting hit on by a man with a handlebar mustache. You and your combat boots are no match for a mustache like that. Go home alone.Call your ex-boyfriend, the one you had monogamous missionary sex with for the last two months of your relationship. Hear him say he misses you. Tell him you miss him, too. Tell him about your multiple partners. Hear the words come from your mouth. Question your life choices. Debate becoming a nun. Remind yourself not to overcorrect life choices.Go to Walgreens hell bent on buying cigarettes. Buy a Swisher Sweet instead, because you want to smoke but don’t want to be a smoker. Grow out your armpit hair. Tell your boyfriends it makes you feel French. Your one supportive friend-turned-fuck-buddy tells you you’re losing your mind. Tell him you don’t think his main focus is your mind. He leaves your apartment that night and doesn’t come back. Replace him with a man you meet who bounces at a chain bar down the street. It is the type of bar that has exclusively girls in short shorts and tank tops serving the food. The bouncer offers you a Newport Menthol and tells you about the underground boxing ring he fights at. He tells you how strong the boxing makes his arms, his hands. Fuck the bouncer.Decide it was a mistake. He has a face tattoo, for Christ’s sake. That’s too scary for you. Worry you are losing your edge because a face tattoo scares you. Remind yourself how edgy longhaired man and manbun man are. Feel cool again. In the morning go to the hippest coffee shop in town and pretend to be writing fascinating things in a chestnut-brown leather notebook embossed with a lotus design on the front cover. Look up thoughtfully over your double, extra dry cappuccino and notice a man in his 40s picking up a black coffee at the end of the bar. Decide that’s your next goal: a rich 40-something.That night, put on a simple, reserved, but sexy dress. Wear your dark plum lipstick and rings on almost every finger. It shows you are edgy but still refined. Go to the swankiest downtown bar and order a gin gimlet. It’s an unexpected yet classy drink. Wait. Two men take the bait. One has stubble that makes him look like he’s trying to balance the same amount of edge and class as you are. The other one is clean-shaven, wearing a navy suit, and has salt and pepper hair. Go for him. He is the biggest departure from your mundane badass boys.Wake up in his penthouse the next morning. The pictures in the hallway reveal he has a family. His daughters look to be your age. Your throat closes. Yes, you questioned yourself when you fucked the bouncer, but who wouldn’t? The face tattoo? That’s an obvious mistake, but this is even more damaging. Leave. Now.Your walk home is the most obvious walk of shame you’ve ever had. You’re carrying your stupid fuck-me pumps and you can almost feel the humiliation seeping from our flesh alerting everyone on the street that you had quite the night. Take the two flights of stairs up to the one- room walk-up apartment you rarely ever sleep in. Binge watch two seasons of Gossip Girl trying to convince yourself that your life is actually pretty tame compared to those people. Realize you are lying to yourself again. Gossip Girl is not based on a true story, you self-pitying girl. Shoveyour laptop off your lap in frustration. You shove it too hard and it falls off your bed and crashes down upon the sterile white tile that plagues your entire apartment. Pick it up. The screen is shattered. Scream and cry, but mostly cry. It’s an ugly, open mouth cry. Catch you reflection in the mirror. Good god, you look like a fucking mess.Who are you? What do you want from life? Clichés flash through your thoughts andyou feel even more stupid. Your phone rings. It’s your friend-turned-fuck-buddy-turned-ex- friend/fuck buddy. He’s just calling to say hi. “I miss you,” he says. He hears the sobs in your responses. He says he’s coming over. He arrives with a pizza and a bottle of wine. You talk all night, and he just listens. He hands you slices of pizza and fills your glass when it runs dry. You do not fuck. He does not stay the night.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]