Rebound Sex Holly Herlinger

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 9/17  You're sick of sulking in between the walls of your apartment.  Tell yourself it is time to get out and meet a rebound man.  Desire a quick screw to get your mind off yet another bad relationship.  Go to a bar you've never been to.  You're attracted by the promise of '80s music and can ignore the fact that there is a girl shooting up in the corner.  If no men are decent at least Billy Idol and the Go-Go's will soothe your soul.  Spot a blond cutie, smooth on the dance floor, melting and swaying under the colored lights.

He yells to you, "You're an incredible dancer!"

Smile coyly.  "You too."  Notice he has a cleft chin, your favorite male attribute, and secretly think he's a perfect guy to have a short-term fling with.  Find out his name is Ethan.

You got his place for an after-bars party, drink a beer, meet his friends.  Watch him talk to these strangers.  Think he's hot.  Too short?  Can't decide yet.  Find out he owns a few buildings downtown.  Think this is great.  No more actors for you.  They are never honest.  Plan to see him again.

9/24  Ethan and you play mini golf.  He says you can go first.  This is sweet.  You get a hole in one first off.  Woo-hoo!

He hits his ball into the river by mistake on the second hole.  "Aw, hell."

You laugh, call him a dork.

He wrinkles his nose at you.  "Well, then you're an even bigger dork, cuz you're with me!"

He climbs over the little rope fence around "the green" and leans over the river to reach his ball.  Falls in.  Wet up to his knees, his pants are stained blue by the dye in the water.  You both laugh.  Yeah, he's sweet.  It's okay that he's short.  He'll be the shortest man you've ever had sex with.

10/1  Watch a sad move at Ethan's house about a woman who is dying of cancer.  Afterward he says he doesn't want to get old and die.  Notice his eyes are a little red and glassy.  This is just sentimental enough for you to sleep with him tonight.

Unfortunately, he takes you home in his white Nissan Sentra.  Walks you to the door.  Runs his fingers through your chestnut hair and kisses you goodnight.  Soft and slow, but no real spit exchanged.  Figure he's playing "the good boy."

He says, "Sorry I can't stay, Beautiful.  Have to take my dog, Muffin, to the vet bright and early."  Next weekend then.

Full version available in the 2003 edition of Harbinger.