If the milk is free...

Okay, so I'm beginning to think there may be something to this "who will buy the cow if you can get the milk for free" thing. I hate to say it, and it's honestly a bit backward thinking, but I can't seem to argue with the irritating evidence I'm facing.

Once a man gets you in bed, he simply stops trying.

Oh sure, he may put in token effort, but the real wooing ends when the sex begins.

Take for example my current situation. I met this guy online. He seemed clever, funny, maybe cute, and I decided to take a chance and agree to a date. Spontaneously we decided to grab a couple of pints one evening. When I arrived and finally located him I was a little disappointed. He was cute in a goofy sort of way, but I wouldn't have picked him out of a lineup. Still, I settled in for what turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable night. Three pints, a plate of wings and some good stories later, we parted ways with a hug and I expected that would be that.

But it wasn't.

He contacted me again, expressing interest in a second date. I wasn't sure I was into it, but he started a clever, funny, and ballsy text and email campaign which piqued my interest. So after a few aborted attempts we managed to arrange a second date... more than a month after our first meeting.

Those of you who've read past posts may know that I'm a veteran of long distance relationships. I often consider written contact foreplay. When you know it's going to be weeks or months between physical interactions, you have to make the most of it. So our back and forth over the intervening weeks had seemed at times to be almost small dates in and of themselves. I say this by way of explaining what happened next.

Our date was lovely. He took me to a hip local eatery and spared no expense. The bottle of wine, the plates of charcuterie, the steak (if texting is foreplay, steak is an aphrodisiac). And he had brought me back a gift of maple candy from a recent trip. We had more great, easy conversation, some flirtation, an altogether enjoyable date.

As we walked along the street after, his arm around me to block the bitter wind, he asked if I'd like to go elsewhere for a drink... or perhaps for a scotch at his place.

Forward.

Ballsy.

Cocky even.

And for some reason, I agreed to the nightcap at his place.

Well, now we're all grown ups here, so we all know that a nightcap is just an excuse to get private and take your best shot at getting physical. Even I know that. And honestly, I was okay with it...

And I enjoyed myself.

But maybe I should have held back.

Because despite the fact that there was almost no awkwardness the next day (a minor miracle wouldn't you agree?), and the fact the the text/email contact has continued unabated, it has been two weeks since we've seen each other.

I know that busy schedules and deadlines and excuses, excuses can make it difficult to meet up. It did take a full month to arrange a second date. But I'm feeling like I'm in a long distance relationship with someone in my own neighbourhood!

And I'm wondering if he hadn't already gotten the "milk", would he be trying harder to see the cow again?