The man who “unofficially” deflowered me, I met at a drunken new years eve party somewhere in Brantford back in 1983. I say “unofficially” because I really should have let him be the one, but that’s another blog post all together. <\/p>\n

Anyway, his name was Rick and looked startlingly a lot like the guy I had my first crush on<\/a>: blond feather back hair, chiseled good looks, own home, car… Without going into details, it was a post New Years Eve shag that was fueled by cheap Freixenet champagne and horniness. <\/p>\n

I called Rick a couple times after New Years and we hooked up once and I was smitten. After one date and two schtuppings, in my head I was already married off. I would call him constantly to see when we could get together again. And then phone calls stopped being responded to.<\/p>\n

My last talk with him I offered to make him dinner, just the two of us. I was so desperate for him to come over that I absolutely didn’t see the non-commital “Sure, maybe” response I got to my invite. It was ON! I was living with my Dad at the time and made him promise to clear out after Rick arrived. I cooked the food, set the table, and lit the candles. And waited. And waited. Dad waited, reading the paper silently in the living room, saving me the embarrassment of having to admit my school girl style miscalculation of affections.<\/p>\n

After an hour no show, it was evident he wasn’t coming and I asked Dad to join me for some overcooked dinner. He put down the paper and said to me the most developmentally sound thing I’ve ever heard:<\/p>\n

“You can’t make them love you, Ted.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The man who “unofficially” deflowered me, I met at a drunken new years eve party somewhere in Brantford back in 1983. I say “unofficially” because I really should have let him be the one, but that’s another blog post all together. Anyway, his name was Rick and looked startlingly a lot like the guy I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":430,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9WjY-V2","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3536"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/430"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3536"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3536\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3536"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3536"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3536"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}