Sexction: Dangers of Booty Call Jealousy

Let me make it perfectly clear: I am not in love with Barista. Barista is twenty-seven and his life is going nowhere. He smokes so much pot that his brain cell count is estimated somewhere between 12-15 cells. He’s just some townie who works full time at a coffee shop close to campus. No, he doesn’t paint or write poetry on the side. He’s just Barista, without much pizazz or talent. But Barista does have one nice quality – he’s a great lay. And in the morning, he can brew me a very nice cup of coffee.

Barista and I had established the standard booty-call procedure. He called me once a week when he got out of work around midnight. I’d open the door, we’d walk upstairs, get naked, and have sex. The sex was rough and animalistic and usually pretty great. There was very little kissing – mostly because he slobbers too much – and very little talking – mostly because I find him incredibly dull. Usually there was sex in the morning, too, but never breakfast afterwards. I was getting great sex and I didn’t even have to leave my house to find it! Everything was going well – until things got complicated.

I went to the coffee shop the other day to get some reading done and Barista was working a midday shift. I came to the java house with a friend, bragging to her as we walked in.

“I’m fucking the barista so no problem, coffee’s on me.”

As I stood in line, I watched, appalled, as Barista flirted with a customer. He was using all the same lines he had used on me. She was laughing at all his jokes. Worse, she looked just like me only fifteen years older. This was totally insulting!

I was flushed by the time I placed my order but I tried to make a joke of it. “Should I tell her how good you are in bed?” I asked, teasingly. (Hoping he would say something like “Oh, don’t be silly. That’s my mom.”)

He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry. She already knows.”

I was speechless. I went to grab the two coffees at the bar, which I had assumed were on the house. I was fucking the guy who had made them, after all.

“Are you paying cash or credit?” he asked.

My mouth dropped. I figured he was joking but I really couldn’t tell. “Fuck you. I’m not paying for these,” I said. I turned, hot coffee spilling all over my hands, motioning frantically over to my friend that it was time to make a run for it.

Now, I cannot stop thinking about Barista. When I think about it rationally, it doesn’t bother me. This is Barista we’re talking about, after all. If he didn’t sleep with anything and everything on this planet, well, he just wouldn’t be Barista. His love of sex is matched only by his love of coffee. All along I knew he was sleeping with other women. Surely I don’t expect that he spend his days contemplating how lucky he is to have ever gotten with me. But I guess my ego did think that was the case, since I am so racked up with jealousy.

I wonder…how did this go from “I don’t want to have sex with him.” to…”Okay, I’ll have sex with him once just to try it.” to…”He’s a good lay but sucks in every other way.” to…”I’m so jealous that he’s talking to other women and that he hasn’t called me.”

How is it possible to rationally know that a person is no good for you and yet still feel jealous when you see that person with someone else? Perhaps jealousy is an animalistic instinctual feeling beyond my control. Or did I actually fall in luv with Barista? Could he be the one who “got away,” even though it didn’t seem like anything special when it was happening? Or do feelings always inevitably get hurt, even with a booty-call?  In our modern world of casual hook ups, booty-calls, and friends with benefits, how do we reconcile the convenience of detached sex with the instinct of jealousy?

I’ll leave this one up for you to decide.

Until next week,
Heather Hot Pants

Got questions for Heather? Email her at askheatherhotpants@gmail.com.

10 Comments

  1. esther

    “His love of sex is matched only by his love of coffee.”
    I love this line!
    HH I know exactly how you feel! You want so hard to be able to be chill, but you just can’t do it…. Story of my life….

  2. sex and chocolate

    sex for women is like chocolate. once you have a piece of it, you crave it like crazy, and the more you eat the more you want it. especially if it’s good chocolate.

    it doesn’t work like this for men. the more they get sex, even if it’s great sex, the less they want it.

    think about it physically, a woman can go all night. most guys have issues getting it up the second time around. not to mention all those that fail the first time…

  3. elizabeth

    oh man too funny! And yeah we’ve all been there. Wish there was an easy answer…

  4. Screwmouth

    It’s interesting how college life lets all of evolutionary biology’s little quirks raise their ugly heads. Men fuck broad, women fuck deep. This is the way it is and will be for a while.

  5. bigEeeZee

    i think theres something about baristas. theyre all so dreamy

  6. Talia Kagan

    too true, too true.

  7. Heather Hotpants Fan

    that is the thing with random booty call relationships: you have to leave the emotions at the door and not expect anything more than just great sex and some ego boosting.

  8. Dear Heather HotPants:
    As always, thank you for keeping it real. The most important thing about casual hookups is knowing when to quit them. It also happens to be the hardest thing to time just right. Practice makes perfect, ma cherie.
    Bisous,
    Sultry in St. Louis

  9. Heather HotPants

    Sultry,

    You’re totally right! I just wrote an article on “knowing when to call it quits.” Should be posted tomorrow morning, 10/10. Thanks for the comment. It got me thinking all about knowing when to leave a relationship.

    xx,
    HHP

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