McCool and I still haven't managed to get together since the one night of amazing sex. We've talked, though- I just can't ever get him to commit to a time to see each other. While our conversations had been sporadic at best, right after his hear attack they picked up a lot. My first instinct was to try and help however I could, and that mostly meant keeping him company online while he was recovering in the hospital.
Somewhere in the course of those conversations, we got on the topic of what can only tenuously be called our relationship. He professes to still want to see me, but it has finally sunk in that he is never going to make time for me. Still, I'm not one to give up an amazing bed partner without a fight.
With that in mind, we discussed the possibility of becoming each other's “designated booty call.” After all, we both like sex, and we both like each other. It makes perfect sense, right?
Unfortunately, the first few times he tried to test the new system came in the midst of my end-of-semester craziness. As much as it pained me, I had to turn him down. I was in a self-imposed exile that was only lifted for the Diplomat. Finally, though, I couldn't stand it anymore and needed a break. I called McCool, only for him to say that he was hosting friends for a Lost party and couldn't get together.
Call me crazy, but a booty call only works when the two people can managed to both be free at the same time. On the one hand, this makes me feel a little better-it means that we really do have incompatible schedules. The fact that we only went out two and a half times wasn't just him being a jerk. Still, I'm left with a bad taste in my mouth about the whole situation. If he really liked me that much, he could have made time for me.
I'm willing to continue giving this booty call thing a chance now that the semester crush is over. If he's always the one making the successful calls, though, I don't see the arrangement lasting long.
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