It’s important to define our words. I once dated a girl who told me three months after we first started seeing each other that she was still in “dating mode” and wanted to be “non-exclusive.” I thought about it and said okay. Well, first I sighed and said, “Excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.” I thought we were on the same page.
We weren’t. We weren’t in the same ballpark. We weren’t even in the same fucking sport. I thought non-exclusive meant we could still date other people. Call me old-fashioned. For her, non-exclusivity meant she could go with me to a party, ignore me once we arrived, hit on all my male friends, get their numbers, sit on their laps and whisper, “Oh, your major is (insert whatever). That’s sooo sexy,” and hit on strangers in the street. Guy with greasy ponytail standing outside a sketchy bar? Fair game.