California Boi

The first guy I dated in LA was a stereotypical “California Boi.” He also was the embodiment of all of the flaws I’ve encountered dating as a millennial.

I met Jake at a Lil’ Dicky show, I probably should have seen that as a sign. My drunken alter ego, Veda, had pretty much taken over that night, so I don’t recall exactly how we met. He told me I came up to him, said “nice nipples,” and started rubbing his chest. Sounds right. I do remember being on the balcony at the Fonda theater in Hollywood, Lil’ Dicky running around the stage below in an unbuttoned baseball jersey with no shirt underneath. Jake twirling me around as I clung to his muscular arms to keep my balance. His white tee shirt glowed under the blacklight against his tan skin.

My girlfriend and I, who were both blackout drunk, invited him back to her place. While she went outside to meet a guy she met online, Jake and I ravaged each other, ripped off each other’s clothes. I pushed him down on the couch, throttled him for a thrust or two. Then we got up and threw our clothes back on quickly right as they came back. We decided to go to his house in Pasadena. We fucked all night, and in the morning we went to IHOP.

The next week we had our first date. We hiked to the Eaton Canyon waterfall and then went for lattes and healthy food in Pasadena, so “Californian”. So was Jake, he had light, sun painted hair, and sea green eyes. He had an athletic build dressed in bathing suit tan lines. He didn't surf, but he did snowboard and rock climb. He didn’t really smoke weed but he acted and dressed like stoner kids I went to middle school with. He spoke slowly, from his nose. His eyes were filled with enthusiasm, but his mind seemed miles away.

The way he looked at me reminded me of the way my border collie looks at me when I’m holding a frisbee, like I had something that really intrigued him but if he heard a loud noise he might forget all about me.
He told me he is just a simple guy, with “basic hardware”. He’s actually one of the brighter guys I’ve met in LA. He reads books and stays up-to-date on politics. He told me about his dad’s vineyard and his dreams of becoming a physician assistant.

On our second date, we went to Corona Del Mar, this incredible beach with rock arches in Orange County. It was so hot that day. We went swimming and he had to rescue me from a tide pool. We saw later it was high surf advisory because of the heat, and that we should avoid swimming. It wasn’t just me this time, but him saving me was definitely cute!

On the way back, his car broke down. Luckily, his aunt and uncle lived nearby, so we hung out at their place until they got back. It wasn’t a bad place to be stranded, it was one of those huge houses on the beach that I’ve only ever walked past. He watched the news as I gave him a blowjob. We sat up on the roof patio, overlooking the ocean. We smoked a joint, while he told me tragic childhood stories about his pill-addicted mother.

I felt really close to him that day. He must have felt close with me too to open up about that. I even bonded with his aunt and uncle. His aunt loves opera so I sang for her. They drove us home in their Porsche.

But intimacy means vulnerability.
Giving away your trust is an invitation for let down, showing who you truly are, makes you a target for rejection. When you let someone in, you risk losing them. Maybe that’s why the average lifespan of attraction for most people I know is about three dates.

The third time we hung out he was late, ridiculously late. I can’t even believe I waited that long, I guess really wanted that dick. It's typical of millennial relationships to start with a night of sex, then evolve into just using each other for sex, then getting mad at the other person for using you, when you've been using them from the beginning.

You’d think in a big city like LA it'd be easy to meet people, especially as a decent looking, reasonably intelligent young woman. In New York, to get laid all I’d have to do is literally walk outside, and boom hundreds of dicks wanting to hop inside me. In LA, I’ll be like, “Can I please come over, I’ll drive to your house, sit on your dick, all you have to do is lay there with an erection, and maybe cum,” and they’ll be like, “I’m too tired”...or…”I’m not even home, MAYBE I'll be there in...I don't know... FOUR hours.”

THE APATHY, EVEN FOR PUSSY! Man’s greatest motivator is dwindling!

I was supposed to meet him at his house at ten. I waited at his door a good fifteen minutes before his roommate let me in. Jake said he’d be back soon. I had fallen asleep by the time he got there... around two in the morning. At least the sex was good, he had a good dick and gave great head. He would look up at me ecstatically from in between my thighs with his border collie eyes.

Our fourth date was probably the most insane “date” I ever had. Yeah, you’re probably wondering why there was even a fourth date, so am I. I guess we’ll put up with a lot in a desperate attempt to forget our utter loneliness for a moment. It feels so real when you’re laying next to them, wrapped in each other's arms. You feel so close to them when your skin to skin. Like they know you. Like they need you. Like they love you.

We'd rather feel a synthetic intimacy than nothing at all.

It was Saturday night. I got all dressed up because I thought we were going out. He tells me an hour before that he forgot it’s his friend's birthday and they had dinner reservations. Oh, and they can’t add me for some reason, but I can come over before for drinks and come out with them after. I was already dressed and had nothing else to do, so I went to his house.

I met Jake and his friend and we had a few drinks before they left me with Jake’s roommate and his high school friend, Christina. Christina was tan, blonde, beautiful, and wearing a slutty red dress. She said she had driven pretty far to come see Jake’s roommate, whom she knew from high school and hadn’t seen in years. She tried to convince the roommate to come out to the bar but he didn’t want to. I was already dressed to go out so I went.

When we get to the bar, she tells me she’s meeting this guy she met in Vegas two years ago. They’ve kept in touch over the years and he was coming to LA that night. I’m seeing a pattern in how people make multiple plans out here, trying to please everyone all of the time. As I’ve mentioned before, Los Angelenos are notoriously flakey.

I end up spending all night being the third wheel. We got a few drinks at the bar and then he took her out to Chilli’s, and I tagged along. I could see right through his intentions and hers. His thoughts were “guaranteed pussy in LA.” Meanwhile, she’s hoping that one night stand two years ago will blossom into a beautiful romance tonight. I can see it so clearly from the outside, but I’m doing the same thing with Jake.

Grasping for something that isn’t there. Have you ever tried to force two puzzle pieces together that just don't fit? Why are we so impatient, and in such a rush to complete that puzzle? After all, we have no idea what that puzzle is actually going to look like when it's finished, you just heard it would be really nice.

Yeah we have things in common, and he’s good in bed, but he’s clearly not emotionally ready for a relationship and has a lot of baggage he needs to work out. Oh wait, so do I…

Why can’t we just have casual sex without always trying to appease our guilt for not living up to society’s standards?
I don’t know if it was this realization, or the Chilli’s food, or the copious amounts of girly mixed drinks, but I ended up throwing up in the Chilli’s bathroom for a half hour or so. When I got back, Christina just looked at me and said, “I feel you.” I don’t remember how I got back to Jake’s or who let me in, just throwing up and lying on his bathroom floor naked, before crawling into his bed and waiting for him to get home as nothing happened.

When I kissed him goodbye the next day, I noticed he kissed with these clenched puckered lips, a cold, emotionless kiss. Had he always kissed me like that? Or was it just now that the lust spell has worn off on both sides, after we both realized that neither of us was willing to put in the effort necessary for turning this into anything real?

Over the next week, I will share some of my experiences dating in LA, which is like a caricature of dating as a millennial. Are we all afraid of vulnerability? Are our egos so weak that we can't possibly risk rejection? Are we all too damaged by our parents, our exes, and societal expectations? Or are we simply afraid of commitment, because there are so many other options?

One thing is for certain, no one has a clue what they’re doing.
“This is a mean old world, baby to live in by yourself”-T-Bone Walker