A first

The first time I had sex with a woman was in 2001. It was also incidentally the last, though not by choice. Since then, I have not gotten much further than snogging friends and/or drunk straight girls trying to impress their boyfriends.

Her name was Jess and I still remember it as the cutest way that anyone came on to me. It was also the worst I have ever treated someone.

I worked in a slightly upscale pizza restaurant and had just finished waiting tables in the lunch shift and was sitting at the bar with a pint preparing my cash out. I was wearing a denim skirt and a red t-shirt that I had bought at a thrift shop and cut the sleeves off. There was a big white number nine on the back, like a sports shirt. A friend a coworker came over to me and said, “Don’t look now, but the girl in the blue shirt at table 13 wanted me to give this to you, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell her who you are.”

She handed me a folded note, which I opened and it read:

“Hey number nine, I think you are cute but I am too shy to dare to talk to you. From, girl with the blue shirt.”

Wow. Not only had no one ever hit on me while I was at work, but it was a cute girl who had written me a note! So as to not embarrass her or get my friend in trouble for having pointed her out, I scribbled a return note that said “You should come in and say hi sometime, I will be at work tomorrow night. Tereza” and gave it to my friend to hand back to her. I finished my beer and went home.

The next night she came into the restaurant and asked for me. I went to the entrance and we introduced ourselves , exchanged numbers, and made plans to meet up on Saturday night at a local pub for a drink with friends. I was gitty with excitement and went to tell my friend Bob, who insisted on coming with me (which no doubt had to do with his own fantasy).

Some background: At this time I was dating a guy who I also lived with. We had lived together as flat mates and then hooked up and became a couple a few months earlier. He was going away for the weekend for a visit back home. Respecting the fact that we were a couple and not wanting to be deceptive, I told him what had happened. I asked if he minded that I would be going out with this girl on Saturday. He said he didn’t mind. I asked him whether he realized that it would be like a date. He replied “As long as I get mine, I don’t mind.” Charming guy, I know. So, permission was granted.

On Saturday we met at a local pub for a few pints/pitchers. It was me, Jess, my friend Bob, and two of her friends. We had the usual get-to-know-you chats. She was a few years older than me (I was 20 at the time, she was maybe 25) and she worked in production for a local television station.

Somewhere in the course of the evening Bob and her two friends disappeared and I invited her back to my flat for another drink. We sat in the living room with the flat to ourselves (in addition to the boyfriend, I lived with my brother, who was also away).

So as to not lead her on, I explained that I had a boyfriend and that I also live with him. She said that she has not interest in men and also no interest in sharing someone. I thought that made us slightly incompatible in the circumstances, but nonetheless, one thing led to another and Jess and I started kissing and then ended up (surprise, surprise) naked in bed.

The sex was fun, but I was not exactly relaxed in the circumstances. As we lay in bed afterwards, I got a bit quiet and she asked whether she should go. I said that would probably be best. She left and I was slightly uncomfortable because I did not know what she wanted from me. I was living with a boyfriend and she was looking for an exclusive girlfriend. I was not prepared to break up with him and move out. I felt very guilty, so when she telephoned about an hour later (she had left without us really talking about these issues), I didn’t answer the phone. She left a message on the machine and I didn’t return her call.

I completed blew her off without ever discussing the predicament with her. When I didn’t respond to her telephone messages, she wrote me a letter and posted to me at work saying that she did not do one-night stands. For some reason, I felt paralyzed and unable to speak to her, so I didn’t.

I ran into her a few years later at a club in Boston when I went to see a band called Le Tigre. We had a few awkward words but then went our separate ways. I still feel guilty about the way I treated her - the old fuck and run.

Since then, I moved to the UK and intended to explore the side of me that is attracted to women. When I arrived at University here I went to a few GLBT meetings, but they were not really for me. I went to a club night in the hopes of meeting a woman, and instead met, at that time, my husband to be, who was there trying to meet a man.

Now I am back at square one and single.