“You’re not going to find a boyfriend this way!” my best friend’s mom yelled as she pulled out all the snacks in the kitchen cabinets, disregarding the fact that her mom was heating up the oven to make us a pizza.
It was 3 a.m. and we had just gotten back from a night at the local bars. It was an unsuccessful night, so we decided to end our night with our true love — food.
“Nobody is seeing us now anyway,” I reassured my friend, grabbing for some more chips.
Her mom sighed, and started asking us about our recent dating ventures (or lack thereof). Of course the conversation turned to sex, and we agreed that no guy calls back after they get what they want — and that was the end of that, or so I thought.
I woke up to a Millionaire Matchmaker marathon on Bravo the next morning, and a few hours in I heard myself yelling “NO SEX BEFORE MONOGAMY!” to my TV in Patti Stanger’s shrill voice.
These millionaires could be paying me for this advice, I thought, and started to wonder if she was onto something.
I started comparing my failed relationships to Patti’s advice and what my friend and I decided the night before, and couldn’t decide if she was 100% right.
So, I decided to do the most logical, non-crazy thing, and perform a social experiment with four lucky men — all in the name of monogamy.
The first victim — I mean guy — was an ex-hookup who was conveniently trying to hang out after two unsuccessful attempts at being anything more than casual.
I met him when I first moved to Manhattan, and we saw each other regularly for a few months. It abruptly ended when he cancelled our plans one weekend to throw himself a birthday party — and not invite me.
Nostalgia hit him a year later, and he reached out to me again. And again, we dated casually. We both didn’t want a commitment, but I wanted to be more than a booty-call, and he said he respected that.
That was until he didn’t text me back after spending a night at my apartment and the following text message conversation followed:
“The usual I sleep with you and then never hear from you again?”
“And then you text me drunk. Glad we still have our roles figured out.”
“So nothing’s changed? I’d love to know so I can quit while I’m ahead if possible.”
“Nope, I’m still busy and don’t text, you still over react.”
Fast forward to now. He said he wanted to prove that he wasn’t a terrible person going into 2015, so I decided to meet him for dinner to prove him wrong. For experimental purposes, I wouldn’t sleep with him and test out being open and honest — qualities in monogamous relationships that we weren’t capable of the first two times around.
But after the first glass of wine, the plan changed.
I called him out on our last conversation, and he promised he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Game on. Challenge accepted. I want to you prove me — and my theory — right.
Then came the second guy. We had met on JSwipe (you’re welcome Mom) and went out for drinks once. He texted me multiple times everyday and invited me to go out with his group of friends on multiple occasions, sure signs that it could lead to a relationship, right?
So when he invited me to his apartment to “hang out” after a happy hour with my friends (even though we had real date plans the next day), I decided to see if a relationship could come from this booty-call.
I wonder if our date is still on for tomorrow, I thought as I left his apartment a few hours later.
I kept things as similar between the second and third guy as I could — we met on the same app but went out on two dates before he came over to my apartment expecting something more. But instead I decided to refuse to do anything sexual with him until we were monogamous, just like Patti would want us to be.
That was easily the most uncomfortable part of the entire experiment. Making out on my bed fully-clothed at 22-years-old while my roommates walked around our apartment was the equivalent of making out on my bed in high school while my mom was awake downstairs. And the more he pushed to “go all the way,” the more uncomfortable it got. I almost felt sorry for him.
This is so awkward that it deserves to be rewarded with a relationship, I thought as he left my apartment the next morning.
The fourth guy wasn’t my usual type, but I decided to go out with him anyway. We met for drinks on a Thursday night, and ended up closing the bar down and leaving with the staff. He sent me in a cab home by myself, but texted me right away to make sure I was home safely. I decided that by Patti standards he would be a keeper, and that sex was off the table until we were in a monogamous relationship (if we even made it that far).
He asked me out again, and again we left the bar when the lights at the wine bar came on at 2 a.m.. on a Wednesday night. We shared a cab home, but got out at our respective apartments. He texted me as soon as he got home, and I decided to see how much farther I could push this experiment until monogamy was on the table.
What I ended up realizing shocked me.
The ex-hookup upheld his end of his self-imposed “eight hour buffer rule” in regards to texting back after we see each other, and we continue to talk. The booty-call guy cancelled our date for the next night, and I never heard from him again. And the guy that I refused to put out for — haven’t heard from him since either. I’m still seeing the guy that hasn’t even brought up sex (or a relationship) yet, and it still hasn’t been on the table.
So in the end, I’d like to say sorry to Patti — sex before monogamy doesn’t matter, the guy you’re having sex with matters.