The End for Sushiboy

"So you don't have a boyfriend? At all?" Sushiboy's voice sounded much more confident through the phone than I remembered it. I remembered the shy kid who couldn't have been more than 5'3," and who kept looking at the ground.
"No," I said, rolling onto my back in the bed. "I don't have a boyfriend at all." I kept the phone close to my ear and wondered if anyone could hear me down the hall.
"Why not? Its not because they don't want, you know."
I laughed. "I know that. They want. Of course, they always want. But I don't want."
"That's good for you?"
"Yeah. Its good for me." I paused, playing with the fringe on a throw pillow near my head. "I'm sick of hearing about how people don't trust me. Just because I'm American doesn't mean I'm bad."
"But I trust you."
"No," I said. "You don't. Its the same like I told you before. You don't even know who I am. You don't trust me and you never will. And you know why? Because I won't let you. I don't want a boyfriend. And I especially don't want one who doesn't speak English."
He chuckled. "But I'm speaking English now."
"Yes, you are. How is that, exactly? Becuase I still don't believe you are who you say you are."
"I ordered a cd for you."
I sighed in frustration. "You shouldn't have done that."
"It's Carlos Baute. Something new for you. I know you like Carlos Baute."
"Yeah... I do." I considered that. A boy who prepared sushi for a living, said he trusted me, and who special ordered me Latin Pop cd's from Spain. He was unique enough.
"We shoud see each other again, so I can give you the cd."
"Well..." But I knew where it would lead. I would just lead him on and I would have to break it down to him again about how I was in a different place in my life than him and how it was hard to communicate and blah blah blah the usual blah. One thing ALWAYS leads to another and that's where I would be. I knew it like I knew the sun would rise.
"I just can't, okay. I can't. I don't want a boyfriend."
For a few seconds I could hear what sounded like a tv in the background on the line. It was blaring some Spanish announcer. It sounded like an infomercial.
"I don't have to be your boyfriend."
I considered this. "But you don't want to be my friend. So... surely you're not..."
"--Why you so mean?" he asked.
"I'm not mean. I'm being smart. I know what I want now."
"Okay," he said. "Then let me ask you one question."
"...All right."
"--No, never mind."
"What is it?"
He sighed. "Never mind. Forget it."
"Just tell me!"
"I just want to know something," he said.
"Which is?" I stared at my ceiling, waiting.
"If you have no boyfriend, what do you do for sex?"
"Excuse me?!"
He was laughing. "See... never mind."
"For sex?" We were treading dangerous waters here. "I don't need that. Do you? Obviously we are very different." Still staring at the ceiling, something occurred to me. "Is that what you really want from me? I mean, just be honest. Is that what this is about?"
"...yeah."
I dropped my gaze. "Oh..."
And then I started to feel angry.
"If you just want some American girl to have sex with go to a bar, go to a club, go... any of those places and take your pick. But I'm not like that. Don't you know that? Don't you know ANYTHING?"
"I just thought--"
"You thought wrong. I have standards. You understand? I have higher standards. Do you understand standards?"
"...No. Not really."
"Ugh. Okay. I don't have sex with people because of God. I don't have sex because I go to church. I don't have sex because one day I want to get married and I don't want to have to explain to my husband how I had sex with some random idiot like YOU."
And I hung up.

I didn't really know why I was crying all of a sudden. Sushiboy was just one of any number of douchebags in the world who all want the same thing. But I think it was one of those first times when I started to doubt the good in people. For whatever weird reason I have always believed in the good in people, and yet this was one of the first times when I had hung back just long enough (five months!) to hear the truth of things. Sushiboy didn't care whether I was his novia or not. He just wanted to cop a feel. I had really believed that with all his shyness, he was better than that. I didn't want to date him, so it's not that I was sad about that. It just shocked me to believe one thing and then find out that the exact opposite was true.

Maybe Latinos have it right. Maybe Trust is a total crock.

Of course, I was also a little wounded by the fact that he thought I would be okay with it all. Why would he think that? Is it because I'm a white girl?

I quickly logged into my phone account and blocked his cell phone number. Thank God I'm done with all this dating crap, I thought to myself. I don't have to listen to that shizz or wonder about intentions for at least another 4 months.

My "reset" is obviously still in progress..........