You guys remember the episode of Sex and the City when Carrie freaks out about Aidan not wanting to have sex with her? It had been something like a week and he still hadn’t tried to get into her pants, so something must be wrong! Did he just want to be friends? Was he gay? Did he have a tiny/curved/funky-looking penis he was afraid to show off? Of course, eventually Aidan revealed that he simply wanted to romance Carrie, takes things slow and get to the hanky panky when there was a real connection between them. It was a novel idea for the condom-toting Carrie and for many of those Amazonian women who strut New York’s streets and sport bed-notches like big game trophies. It was a good episode. But why am I reminding you of it? Well, I’ll tell you a little story.
Roo and I were pow-wowing on Gchat this morning when she told me about a guy she just started talking to. He had politely asked for her number and actually texted her a couple days later. They chatted throughout the day, and then he called her later just to say good night. That’s it. That’s the story. When you look at it on paper, the guy did everything right. He’ll probably work his way up to asking her on a date in a couple days and he might even pay for dinner (gasp). But here’s the reason why I’m telling this story: when she told me he called after they’d been texting most of the day “just to say goodnight” my face looked as if he had showed up outside her window to tuck her into bed. My creeper alert was clanging.