Monday, April 25, 2011

The Very Blind Date

Like many swingers, Ginger and I started exploring the potential for meeting others online. We actually started on Craigslist--we'd like to believe before it was considered too seedy, but in reality we didn't have a clue. With total dumb luck, we met a sexy, intelligent woman that we shared much with over the course of a couple of years.

Easy right? Not so fast...

We started exploring other sites to meet couples, initially as a threesome and then as a couple ourselves after she partnered. The first thing that struck us is how difficult it is to actually MEET couples on some of the sites. Admittedly our initial threshold is high--that is if correct spelling, grammar, and some tasteful pictures are included. Much like when you meet someone in person and you get a first impression for how they carry themselves, the online profile offers much insight...maybe people with sloppy profiles are amazing fucks, but it just doesn't send a lot of confidence our way.

The second thing we discovered (and continue to struggle with) is that it takes a lot of time to maintain your online profile, pictures, and messages. In the times that we've gotten busy, it atrophies--like the muscle that doesn't get used, it is pretty much useless. We are both organized professionals and keeping straight with the online activity taxes our capabilities. It's not that the volume is so's the strategy of knowing who you really want to meet and how to keep the connection open in the midst of the real life constraints.

This past weekend we had the chance to connect with a couple online. It all happened pretty much at the last minute and we decided to be opportunistic. We discussed a time, a place...and as we are on the way, Ginger asks "What are their names?" Er, baby, I forgot to get that information.

We met at a bar in town. Ginger and I got there first and texted our specific table location. Then we waited. Would they show? Would they be our style? Could they hold a conversation?

Then, the cutest couple that had come through the door all night walked over to introduce themselves (which got strange looks from the couples nearby: "Why are they meeting for drinks if they don't know each other?"). The conversation was excellent. First it was one drink and then another. They stayed well beyond their intended time frame, but we knew that it was going to have to be an early night due to circumstances. YES! Our faith in online dating restored.

If you've ever golfed, this is like the one good shot that erases all the frustrations from before. We will always prefer to meet people in person at parties or on vacation, but it is easier to redouble online efforts knowing there are some good matches out there.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Are You Connected?

Ginger and I just returned from our pilgrimage to Desire. Reentry to normal life can be a jolt. The issue of wearing clothes is obvious, though there is not much sexy about naked New Englanders milling about outside during the cold spring months. Other differences are more subtle. Paying attention to these helps us create a "new normal"—that is, if we hold on and refuse to fall back to our old patterns.

I travel extensively for work. For me, travel is often an issue of energy conservation—I try to get from point A to point B with as much left in the tank as possible. Getting ready for a week at Desire required even more time on the road, right up to and including the day before the trip. Ginger and I talked sporadically over this time. We didn’t have much sex. Other than the concern that she may spontaneously combust without a regular release of erotic energy, we trust the ebb and flow knowing full well that these disruptions aren’t a sign of something wrong between us.

On the flight down to Cancun, I defaulted to my normal work mode paying scarce attention to the sexy woman next to me. I could blame it on the airplane WiFi. I could say I had to make sure everything was alright back at the office before heading out of town. There are lots of things I could tell myself, but in reality, it was a choice.

Fast forwarding past all the juicy details of our amazing trip (more forthcoming, we promise), Ginger and I didn’t stop talking with one another on the way home and all evening. We relived experiences. We made plans. We laughed. We cried. It was better than Cats.

The opportunities to invest our energy are endless. This is even more true as we become more connected virtually—not even the airplane is a reprieve from the outside world if you fork over the 10 bucks for a WiFi connection. The question is this: are these productive connections? Do they invigorate and refresh you with energy? Or are they sucking you dry? Where we connect is a choice. We may not be able to extricate ourselves immediately from non-productive choices, but my guess there are some immediate steps that move you in the right direction. I know there are for me.

For starters, where there is a hot woman sitting next to me on the plane, I commit to flirt and build the erotic connection—not with an expectation to “get laid” but instead in pure enjoyment of how that energy itself makes me happy. That should help the next million miles go by much more enjoyably.

Connecting with Ginger is—I don’t know how else to say this—it is an experience. She is a force of nature in all the best ways. Intelligent. Thoughtful. Focused. And sexually, she can overwhelm before even getting revved up fully. We always bring our A-game together. I ask myself: Do I really have to unplug from all the energy she brings to my life?

Vacations are often described as “recharging your batteries”. The problem is, these proverbial batteries are too easy to get depleted. How long does the vacation bump usually last? A day? The first hour back in the office? Batteries are, by definition, a disconnection.

I’m no longer going on battery. I’m staying connected—albeit, with a very long cord at times, but connected nonetheless.