I don’t normally feel bad when I have to reject a woman, but this time I did. I had a deaf woman come onto me in writing. She stared at me hard from a few feet away, and I stared back, which in hindsight was a mistake because she didn’t meet my minimum attractiveness threshold. I should have done the right thing and looked away in mild disapproval, but her flagrant violation of American girl flirting norms with the extended eyeplay piqued my curiosity.
She tapped my arm and handed me a small notepad and a pen. On the pad were written some words in red ink, the color of love. She wanted me to write something in reply. I have reproduced the gist of our ensuing notepad conversation.
Her: Hi.
Me: Hi back.
Her: I’m from San Diego. Where are you from?
Me: {lame opener. another girl with no game.} I’m from XX.
Her: What do you think of this bar? It seems snobby. (she turns her nose up with her finger.)
Me: It is. We’re all hipster snobs here.
Her: (laughs without actually making the laughing noise.) I think u r 2 cute.
At this point I realize I have led her on and need to find a way to extricate myself before I waste more time entertaining a woman I am not interested in banging. But she is persistent, and her disability has prevented me from cutting off our written communication abruptly.
Me: Thx.
Her: Do you live around here?
Me: Yes.
Her: I’m staying with my two friends over there. They live nearby.
I looked where she was pointing and saw two attractive girls signing each other, then kissing. (!) Sensing what was going through my mind, my deaf woman quickly scratched out a note.
Her: They are girlfriends and don’t sleep with guys. They approve of you.
Me: They have good taste.
Meanwhile, this guy is loudly telling me to write down a request for a threesome and anal sex and to draw a sketch of a blowjob in her pad. The girls can’t read lips so even though they are standing right there they suspect nothing.
Her: I’m only in town for this weekend then I go back to San Diego. Would you like to come back to my place?
Me: I’ve sorta been dating a girl for a month who I like and I’d feel guilty about it.
This excuse was partially true. I was seeing a girl for a month and I did like her, but I wouldn’t feel guilty enjoying an easy one night stand with another woman.
Her: That’s OK. I have a boyfriend in San Diego.
I looked at the notepad with knitted brow. I didn’t know what to write. She grabbed it back.
Her: I’m only here for this weekend then I’m back home forever. You’re completely free after that. What do you say?
Her handwriting was getting sloppier.
Me: I really like this girl I’m dating. You’re great, but it wouldn’t be fair to her.
She glanced back at her two lesbian friends and they exchanged a few frantic hand signs. There was no subtlety. Although I can’t read sign language, it was easy to see her friends wanted her to wrap it up so they could go home and scissor. They even made the universal scissor sign with their fingers. Horny deaf woman gave it one last shot.
Her: You’ll never meet another woman like me.
Me: That’s true. (weak smile)
Her: This is your chance to sleep with a deaf woman.
Suddenly I was intrigued. Despite my many adventures, I don’t have a deaf girl notch. I decided to reconsider her offer. Her body was tight and lean — definitely fit enough to arouse me if it was attached to a different face. I squinted my eyes to see if it improved her looks. It was too dark in the bar. I needed better lighting for a final binding assessment. I leaned over to write my response in the notepad by a candle nearby and motioned for her to lean toward me to read what I wrote, hoping to get a good look at her face in the illumination of the candlelight.
Disappointment. She had the beginnings of jowls and regrettable crows’ feet. There was just too much age for me to put the hard work in to passively let her close the deal and rape me back at her friends’ place. Had she been only one point higher on the 1 to 10 facial scale, I would’ve gone for it. Having sex with a deaf woman is the kind of thing I would tell my grandkids as they sat in my lap.
Me: I would if things were different. But no.
Her: Really? You won’t meet many other deaf women.
Me: I know, but I can’t.
Her: OK. It was great to meet you.
A long lingering hug followed. She would use this hug later to masturbate.
It was too bad. I’m left to wonder if deaf women make funny moans at the moment of orgasmic release. And to think, no post-coital chit chat. Nothing but golden silence.
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