The Real Decision, 2008

I had some thinking to do. What to do with the firefighter and his wife? They were still being very lovely and had emailed me to let me know "they" would love to see me again -- no pressure.

(I would also like to point out that it's been a pathetic amount of time since a date went so well there was so much interest in a second round. Seriously. Even the guy who rode a unicycle and spoke with a lisp wasn't crazy about seeing me again, so you kind of have to wonder. The fact that a man and woman could both agree on me felt a little like redemption.)

There was indeed pressure though, because every time I heard a firetruck on it's way to an emergency I got a little frisky imagining my particular firefighter in action. I have enough hang-ups without adding a Pavlovian reaction to sirens, so I had to act.

When contemplating potentially terrible behaviour I've found it helps to get a broad cross-section of opinion. I formed a panel of people I felt could advise me on whether I was on a slippery slope to eternal damnation and or a guest spot on Jerry Springer, or whether entering into this kind of relationship is a perfectly acceptable way to kill time between now and whenever my next attempt at a conventional relationship turns into a gong-show.

(I'm nothing if not realistic. Predictable, and realistic.)

Should my behaviour lead to eternal damnation it's important to know this now, so that any one of my friends who gets there before me can save me a seat near the dance floor. If I'm going to be on Springer, I want to lose a couple of pounds first so time really was of the essence.

The last girl they had this arrangement with stayed "with" them for two years. They all became very close, and considered her a very close friend. She even went camping with them in the summers, and strangely enough my only negative reaction to this news involved the thought of camping.

She left the arrangement when she became involved in a serious relationship and moved away to be with the new guy. This couple doesn't know it, but if I agree to try them out I might be with them a lot longer than they bargained for given my other romantic prospects, or complete lack thereof.

My panel of experts were forthright. The gay guy was disappointed there would only be two other people involved because he was hoping I had been contemplating something "genuinely" kinky, and three in a bed apparently no longer qualifies.

The friend who appears extremely conservative at first glance was very excited for me because every threesome she's ever had has been awesome, leaving to me to question...who are these people??

My flamboyantly kinky friend suggested I give her their number should I lose my nerve and my devoutly religious friend is probably still praying for me as I write this.

This was as helpful as you can imagine, which is to say, not helpful at all. I went back to the firefighter with a few obstacles I figured would render making any decision irrelevant.

I reiterated I would not touch her, and I told him if I was even to think about going any further they would both have to be tested for STDs, expecting that this would be too much hassle and I would have an out.

And dammit if they weren't absolutely wonderful and accommodating. My safety, comfort and well-being is a huge priority, and they would make an appointment at the clinic right away. And they get it...I'm not into girls. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

So...well...what the hell. There has to be some fringe benefits to being single and the last of my friends to find true love, or even a reasonable facsimile. I've never done anything crazy in my life and my comfort zone normally expands only to the end of my nose and back so why not step outside the zone?

And so I did. I told them yes. And I'm so glad. Glad like I have never been glad before. Glad in multiples. Yes, that kind of glad.

These wonderfully depraved people are on to something.