Getting ahead of myself: it’s probably my No. 1 Bad Dating Habit and I’m trying (without much success) to break it because men can smell future-thinking a mile away—and apparently ruminating about down-the-road co-habitation on the first date is a red flag for most guys.

David, a retired Midwestern banker, found my profile online and decided to take me out for drinks at a local dive bar. I don’t like his lame, plaid, short-sleeved shirt—but I definitely like him. We laugh and drink and lean in close, so we can hear each other over the din. David reminisces about his college days as a Bible-thumping geek, and I counter with all sorts of mischief I used to get into. Both in our 40’s we seem to be meeting somewhere in the middle.

Later that evening, as David escorts me to my car, I find myself fighting my No. 2 Bad Dating Habit: sleeping with men on the first date. Of course, I already know I’m going to lose this battle, because he’s already told me his dirty little secret…

He’s a swinger, happily living the lifestyle.

–

In an ideal world David and I begin to date, experiment with the swinger lifestyle a bit, and slowly fall in love. In the real world: I embrace swinging with the hope that David will really notice me or at the very least have sex with me again; my world is rife with insecurities, poor planning  and even worse execution; and I spend much of my time chasing after dreams that most people have no difficulty achieving. Still, dabbling in non-mainstream sex seems like an option worth trying as I’ve never been married and haven’t had a boyfriend in over two years. Also, joining the lifestyle (even without David’s undivided attention), at least on the surface, adds a certain amount of I’m-doing-something-wickedly-enticing energy to my life.

On the upside, swingers have regularly scheduled themed parties (think Playboy Mansion meets suburbia). Talk is cheap. Sex is plentiful. Suddenly I have an excuse to own thigh-high black leather boots. Also, as I’m completely clueless about the lifestyle’s norms and etiquette, I ‘need’ to contact David regularly so he can mentor me through the landmines:

ME: I have a married guy who is texting me about 20 times a day. Supposedly I’m his favorite.  Is this okay?

DAVID: It sounds as though he may have some boundary issues. Watch out.

ME: I had a date with two guys at once, so I invited a married girlfriend to join us. Now she wants me to lie to her husband saying that she didn’t have any sex. This seems wrong to me—is this normal for swingers?

DAVID: You should never be put in that position in the lifestyle.

ME: I went to a club, saw some things I wasn’t prepared for, and completely lost my cool. I think I’m okay now—is there anything I can do so I’m welcomed back?

DAVID: That depends . . .

My being a newbie “unicorn” (single women in the lifestyle are so rare they earn that nickname) definitely turns the tables on dating. In the lifestyle single men are not allowed to attend parties without a female escort, so women get to do the asking and I enjoy having so many men to choose from.

I invite Kevin to go dirty dancing.

Mike agrees to try skinny dipping.

I lure John to my hot tub.

Steve and I shoot whiskey as we howl at the harvest moon.

Along the way I learn that I prefer attending private parties in public where nudity and sex are prohibited as opposed to actual swingers’ clubs: parties where it’s okay to dance in your panties, but they can’t come off. I wouldn’t say I’m a prude—not exactly—but twirling around on a stripper pole suits me better than jumping into a pile of 30 naked bodies.

By the time I’ve acquired this knowledge, David is pretty much out of the picture – not because he has a girlfriend, but because I’m not his body type. In fact, he even takes on a mentoring role in this arena as well, telling me:

“You’ll be gorgeous when you lose the weight. With a great body, you’ll attract better guys.”

I try to take this as a compliment even though he and I both know that he doesn’t mean it to be. Still, although I really do try, the whole scene begins to reek. The rejection grows. It seems that cheap sex loses its thrill when you’ve done it a couple of times with the same woman and there are plenty of other takers out there to move on to. Women and couples begin to contact me, and I have a hard time saying “No” even though all I really want is a boyfriend. But…

Kevin loses interest.

John finds someone else.

Mike stops taking my calls.

I don’t even know what happens to Steve.

When attending parties it’s not considered polite to ask people why they are in the lifestyle, but if you pay attention you’ll get some insight. Some couples swear up and down that it saved their marriage, and others say they get off on the fact that they’re breaking taboos. One woman tells me that it makes her feel young and beautiful again. I’ve met a few people who clearly use it as an excuse to get out of the house and drink, and one guy I know likes to pretend he’s pre-kids and single again.

David and the swinging lifestyle are perfectly suited for one another. He has a mildly narcissistic ego (if that’s possible) that gets stroked when couples invite him to join them. And I think that growing up in a family and church where it’s not okay to even dance with a girl may have contributed to his decision to leave his wife so he could play with strangers.  The lifestyle is an outlet for him that he apparently needs and relishes because he didn’t get to have ‘fun’ until well after his divorce. I get it. I, on the other hand, chose to follow David down the rabbit hole not because I’m lacking in fun but, rather, because I feel as though I’m lacking in choices. And men. If there is a right reason and a wrong reason to swing, then David and I are at two different ends of the spectrum.

ME: I decided to get out of the lifestyle. Glad you told me about it, though.

DAVID: Why?

ME: Not sure. I’m in a drought. Moving on . . .

DAVID: Moving on to?

ME: A fresh slate, I guess.

DAVID: Wow. That’s a significant decision.

ME: It’s only been three months. It was an experiment, really.

DAVID: I see. So would you consider it a failed experiment?

ME: Very much so.

Now, as I lick my wounds (and continue to work on my figure,) I’ve been going on dates with men who know nothing about me being a failed unicorn. They take me to dinner and kiss me good night.  Following advice from dating experts and friends, I try and get to know these men without having sex with them right away. Even though I dated for over 25 years prior to trying the swinging lifestyle, it now feels foreign, bland…lifeless. Being a swinger may have rubbed me raw at times, but at least I felt alive.

I try to hide these ho-hum feelings during my conversations with David. Although it’s apparent to both of us that we have no future together, because my No. 3 Bad Dating Habit is clinging to false hope, I still respond to his texts.

DAVID: What other options are you pursuing?

ME: Vanilla options.

DAVID (three days later in the middle of the night): You aren’t vanilla. Never will be.