Thursday morning arrived with the harsh glare of a regular workday, forcing Kimberly back into the rearview mirror as boy mode took over for the 9-to-5. But even while sitting at my desk, navigating meetings, my mind kept drifting back to the sidewalk outside Roscoe’s. The phantom feeling of Greg’s hand on my thigh and the intensity of that sidewalk make-out session stayed with me all day.
By evening, I finally had the space to breathe and began my evening metamorphosis: off with the suit and tie, slip into a dress, and apply my makeup. Then I logged onto Tumblr to catch up with one of my girlfriends, Laura. I couldn’t keep last night’s events to myself any longer.
I poured out every single detail of the whirlwind night—the car transformation, the Cosmo body language cues, the double-encore kisses, and the Saturday night date now locked into my calendar.
I expected her to cheer or gush over the romance of it all. Instead, her response caught me completely off guard.
She was floored. As the chat bubbles blinked rapidly, her messages turned into a gentle but firm interrogation. She couldn’t understand how I had let a complete stranger—and someone who wasn’t my usual type—get so physically close, so quickly and so easily. Why didn’t you pull away? Why did you give him your real number? How did you let it go that far?
Reading her questions, a wave of defensiveness washed over me. Type-talking through the keyboard, I found myself trying to justify every second of the encounter.
“He was just asking me things!” I typed back, trying to make her see it from my perspective. “We were just talking!”
But deep down, I knew it was more complicated than that. I kept explaining to her—and maybe to myself—that I was just trying to be polite. The ultimate crime in my mind at that moment wasn’t letting a man’s hands wander up my dress; it was the terrifying prospect of coming across as a bitch. I had internalized the feminine pressure to be accommodating, to smile, and to keep the conversation flowing, even when the pace was moving at warp speed.
Moving to FaceTime
The text format on Tumblr wasn’t cutting it for a conversation this heavy and rapid, so we decided to move things over to a face-to-face call. I touched up my makeup to feel fully presentable as Kimberly before hitting the FaceTime button.
Seeing Laura’s face on my screen changed the dynamic instantly. If I was hoping the visual transition would soften her stance, I was completely wrong.
She absolutely refused to validate my anxiety about coming across as a bitch. To her, that excuse was just a shield I was using to hide a deeper reality. She didn’t mince her words or sugarcoat her perspective.
“You aren’t just being polite, Kimberly,” Laura told me flatly.
From where she was sitting, I wasn’t just navigating tricky bar etiquette—she felt I was actively throwing myself at the very first guy who happened to come along and show interest. Hearing it laid out that bluntly felt like a bucket of ice water to the face.
She sighed, leaning closer to her camera, her dark brown eyes narrowing as she studied my freshly done makeup. “Okay, so let’s talk about Saturday. Please tell me you are not going to follow through on this date. You are going to ghost him, right?”
“Well, um, yes,” I twirled a strand of my hair around my finger, looking away from the camera for a second. “I mean, I’m going.”
“Why, Kimberly?!” she groaned, throwing her hands up in total frustration. “He is literally old enough to be your dad! He is completely not your type, and you don’t even know him!”
“Because… like, I already told him yes?” I protested softly, my voice trailing off into a little giggle. “It would be so rude to change my mind now. He was being so sweet, he already has my number, and it’s just… well, it’s already, like, planned, ya know?”
“Kimberly, you can just text him and say you changed your mind. You don’t owe him a date just because he made out with you on a sidewalk.”
“Oh, but I can’t do that!” I gasped, pouting my lips slightly at the screen. “He’s going to pick me up at eight! He was so take-charge and confident, it was kind of amazing. If I cancel, he’ll think I’m just a tease, or worse, a total bitch. It’s, like, sorta easier to go with the flow and see what happens. Besides, it’s a free dinner, right?”
Pressing the Envelope
Laura leaned back, rubbing her temples like she was getting a headache just listening to me. “Kimberly, listen to yourself. If you are this passive right now just talking about him, what is going to happen Saturday night? If you keep letting Greg call all the shots, he is going to keep pressing the envelope. He already did that last night. Have you even thought about how far he’s going to push things?”
“Well… I mean, he’s a gentleman,” I murmured, my voice drifting upward like a question. I looked down at my freshly painted nails, tapping them gently against my phone screen. “He’ll probably just take me somewhere nice. Like, a cute little bistro or something.”
“And then what?” Laura pressed, her tone sharpening. “He already had his hands all the way up your dress on a public street after five minutes of knowing you. He’s going to want more and expect more if you meet him for a date. If you don’t know how to say no, what happens when he takes you home? Or insist that you go back to his place?”
“Oh, stop, you’re making it sound so scary!” I gave a little, dismissive wave of my hand and giggled, trying to brush off the sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach. “It’s just a date. If he wants to, like, kiss me again or hold my hand, it’s fine. I’m just going to be a good date and let him take care of everything. It’s kind of nice not having to think, you know?”
“Whoa! ‘Not having to think?’ Are you even listening to yourself Kimberly? What you’re doing is walking directly into a trap of your own making,” Laura said, her voice dropping into a dead-serious register. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. He can tell you won’t push back. If he decides the night ends in a bedroom, are you just going to giggle and say yes to that too because you don’t want to be rude?”
I bit my lower lip, my eyes widening slightly as I looked at her through the screen. For a second, the gravity of her question broke through my airy exterior. But then, the comforting blanket of being an object of desire and passivity wrapped right back around me.
“Well…” I whispered, a slow, helpless smile spreading across my face as I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until Saturday to find out.”
The Bimbo Realization
Laura did a literal facepalm, her hand slapping against her forehead so hard I could hear it through my phone speakers. She held it there for several long seconds before sliding her fingers down her face, looking at me with pure, unadulterated dread.
“Kimberly, look at me,” Laura commanded, her voice dropping into a register that was terrifyingly serious. “You have never been with a guy before. Not like this. Do you really want your very first time to be with some random, older dude who isn’t even your type? On a sidewalk? In the back of his car? Think about how you’ll feel the morning after if that happens. Think about the regret.”
“Oh, my gosh, Laura, you are being such a drama queen right now!” I gasped, tossing my head back and letting out a breathless, airy laugh. I reached up to reapply my lip gloss in the camera reflection, completely unbothered. “First of all, nobody said anything about that. We are just going to get drinks, or like, something to eat. And second of all… I mean, he’s probably experienced! He probably knows exactly what to do, which is kind of perfect because I don’t know anything!”
“Experienced is a nice word for a predator who spotted easy prey,” Laura shot back, completely immune to my giggling. “If you can’t even say ‘no’ to a date, how are you going to say ‘no’ when you’re alone with him? You’re playing a game you don’t know the rules to.”
“But that’s the best part!” I squealed softly, clapping my hands together. “I don’t want to know the rules! It’s so exhausting being at work all day and having to make all the big, serious choices. When I’m Kimberly, I just want to be, like, a pretty little passenger. If Greg wants to drive the car, I’m just going to sit in the front seat, look cute, and enjoy the ride!”
“Even if he drives you off a cliff?” Laura asked flatly.
“Kimberly, you are acting like a total bimbo right now,” Laura hissed, her voice sharp enough to finally pierce through my airy daydreaming. “Listen to yourself! You are literally giggling at the idea of letting some random creep control you and use you!”
She leaned in so close to her camera that her face filled my entire screen. “Have you completely forgotten who you are? You and I have spent hours rolling our eyes and making fun of the pervvy, older guys who try to slip into our DMs on Tumblr. We literally mock men like Greg every single day! And now, just because one of them touches your knee in person and tells you you’re cute instead sending a dick pic, you’re ready to turn your brain off and play the helpless little maiden?”
“Oh, but that’s totally different, Laura!” I whined, dropping my chin into my hand and giving her my best puppy-dog eyes. “The guys in the DMs are just, like, gross and thirsty. But Greg was right there! And he smelled really good, and he was being so nice and take-charge. He made me feel all melty inside.”
“Melty inside is just your survival instinct leaving your body,” Laura muttered, rubbing her temples again.
But the truth was, her warnings weren’t waking me up—they were just making the butterflies in my stomach flutter faster. The thought of being completely helpless against Greg’s advances on Saturday night didn’t terrify me.
It thrilled me.
“But, like, I can’t back out now, Laura!” I blurted out, shifting my phone to one hand so I could gesture wildly with the other. “I’ve already booked a mani/pedi and makeover at Ulta for Saturday! And I just—literally today—picked up this super cute aqua dress at H&M. And I picked up a matching Chantelle bra and panty set at Nordstrom in an adorable coral color that screams summer! Oh, and I got these!”
I leaned back from the screen, hoisted my leg up into the frame, and proudly displayed a pair of gorgeous, shiny silvery platform heeled sandals. I angled my foot back and forth, letting the bedroom light catch the metallic sheen of the straps. “I’m wearing them to try to break them in for Saturday!”
“See? I already have the whole look coordinated!”
I giggled, letting my foot drop back down. “You can’t expect me to waste a professional makeover and a brand-new outfit. That would be the real tragedy here!”
Laura just sat there for a moment, her eyes fixed on my silver platforms. She let out a dry, disappointed chuckle, shaking her head in pure disbelief.
“Oh my god,” Laura scoffed, crossing her arms tightly. “Why don’t you just text him to come over right now and have his way with you? Seriously, Kimberly, being slutty is not a badge of honor!”
“Laura! Gasp!” I put a hand over my chest in mock horror, though I couldn’t stop the massive grin from breaking across my face. I tilted my head, letting out a soft, melodic laugh. “That is so mean! I am not being slutty. I am being romantic. There is a total difference!”
“Romantic? Kimberly, you don’t even know his last name!”
“Well, details, details,” I breezed, waving my hand dismissively as if names were just a minor technicality. “The point is, he likes me. Like, really likes me. And it feels so nice to just be appreciated. Besides, what’s wrong with wanting to look pretty and having a guy adore you? Isn’t that what being a girl is all about anyway?”
“Being a girl doesn’t mean leaving your brain in your purse,” Laura countered, her voice sharp but tinged with exhaustion. “You are literally turning into a walking stereotype. You’re letting some older guy treat you like a prize he won at a carnival, and you’re just standing there clapping your hands about it.”
“But carnivals are fun!” I giggled, twirling a lock of hair around my finger before looking down at my silver shoes again.
“He’s going to open the car door for me, he’s going to buy me drinks, and if he’s a little bit bossy… well, I think it’s kind of hot. You’re just jealous because you don’t have a hot date in an aqua dress this weekend!”
“I am definitely not jealous of being a booty call for a dude with an AARP card,” Laura muttered, though a tiny, reluctant smile finally cracked through her stern expression. “You are completely hopeless, you know that?”
“Hopeless? No way,” I beamed, blowing a kiss at the camera lens. “I’m just a girl with a plan. Well, a girl with an Ulta appointment, anyway. I feel like I’m actually just part of whatever Greg has planned!”
The Saturday Pact
Laura finally realized she wasn’t going to break through my airy fortress of denial. She gave a heavy, dramatic sigh and looked at me with an expression that was pure, protective girlfriend.
“Fine. If you are going to go through with this, we are making a deal right now,” she insisted, her tone leaving zero room for negotiation. “The second you get into his car on Saturday, you are sharing your phone location with me. And you are going to leave it on all night. Do you hear me?”
“Oh, okay, mom!” I giggled, rolling my eyes playfully but secretly feeling a little rush of warmth at how much she cared. “I’ll share my location.”
“I’m serious, Kimberly. Be safe. Don’t have too much to drink. And if things go the direction I’m sure they’re headed, make sure he wears protection,” she warned one last time before we finally said our goodbyes and hung up the call.
Staring at my black phone screen, the silence of my room crept back in.
My silver platform shoes were still glinting under the lights, my new lingerie was folded on my dresser, and my aqua dress was hanging neatly on the closet door, waiting. Laura wanted me to be safe. But as I lay down to sleep that Thursday night, all I could think about was the thrill of the unknown, and just how ready I was for Saturday at 8:00 PM to arrive.
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