In my sink…really?

There’s a few things that happened a few months ago that I hadn’t had time to post about about.

Mostly just dates, less kinky stuff for now.

I went out on a really great date a few months back, we went for a walk, went for dinner. Ended the night with shisha and invited them back to mine for a drink. As soon as we got back to my house they were complaining about having the shakes, being really warm. I got him some water and he excused himself to the bathroom…for twenty minutes. Came back out and said he should probably head home, he was really embarrassed but didn’t feel well. Maybe half hour later I was getting ready for bed, brushing my teeth and when I turned the tap on in the bathroom…the sink was backed up with vomit…He threw up in my sink. 

The next day I woke up to a string of texts from him apologizing for being ill, I responded that it was an involuntary bodily reaction but…why my sink? He denied it, offered to help snake the drain, but I lost interest.

A week after that, was talking to someone on tinder for a few days, they asked me to go to dinner and I agreed. Just as I had left the house, we exchanged numbers so he could text me when he was outside my building. As soon as I got him number, put it into Facebook…he has three children and a wife. I immediately called my roommate and debated what to do and as I pushed the door into the parking garage, I ran right into him…

So, we went out.

It was alright. Skirted around his separation and his half dozen children. He wanted to come over and drinks some beers, luckily my roommate came home and I told him I had to turn in. I’m no longer sleeping with anyone I find boring. It’s my new thing.

Little less talk.

I’m extroverted, I write a blog about sex. I have my moments of shyness too. I like to tell people that I write and people find the topic interesting, but I’m always torn about whether or not to tell men that I’m on dates with/dating that I have a blog because the first question is always,

“What are you going to say about me?”
“What’s my pseudonym going to be?” 

I don’t normally like to write about dates or certain situations because I like it to pan out naturally, which I guess is me kind of just sitting on my hands waiting for it to be over. Does that mean I’m setting myself up for failure? Or just remembering important details to write about later while not actually enjoying it while it’s happening?

Or I’m just overthinking it.