The novelist who ghosts after the third date

Illustration: by Marylu E. Herrera

This week, a writer has plenty of drinks with plenty of women — and still finds time to flirt at Pilates: 30, single, Brooklyn.


7 a.m. I have no kids, no pets, and no responsibilities, and yet my ass wakes up so early, everyday, no matter how rough the night was. And last night was rough. I’ve been a bit of an alcoholic…for five years. I’m a 30 year old man who loves women and partying, and you can’t really judge me for that.

9:55 a.m. However, you can judge me for the stupid amount of money I spend on my daily Pilates classes. I bet you didn’t see it coming. I come here every day at 10 am, almost no matter what.

11:20 a.m. Lots of girls flirt with me after class. I’m used to it. I know that sounds arrogant, but I’m a decent-looking charismatic guy and I’m open to meeting people, and that’s just a good vibe to spread. The one I like is the teacher, Minka, but she remains very professional with me. I wait for her to meet me in the hallway. Sometimes she asks if anyone wants a hot towel…unfortunately today isn’t one of those days.

3 p.m. Decide to devote a good five hours to my novel. Believe it or not, I did well in the literary world. I’m not as poor as you might think looking at me.

9 p.m. I guess you could call it a “date”, but I’m meeting my friend Lauren for a drink at a nearby bar. We like to drink then fuck. It’s good sex. But I’ve had better and, frankly, I’m sure she has too.

10:30 p.m. Lauren has a shot. Handsome! We get excited and look for a place to dance.

00:40 After a bit of barhopping, we’re back home. I go down on her for about half; seems like the right thing to do for all free drugs. Then she goes home.


7 a.m. Awake! I am a very insecure person. Every time there’s a tweet or a troll about my latest book, I read it and internalize it and hate myself for it. I’m sure there are ways around it, but I’m sure I also enjoy the pain on some level. If I ever get therapy, I’ll let you know!

10am It’s not Minka today. A mean lady named Cheryl teaches the class. She’s a very good teacher, but she cracks the whip.

11:20 a.m. One of the girls I always see here, Clémentine, asks me if I want to go out one day. She also calls herself a writer (no comment). I know how things are going to play out with Clem. We’ll have a good night. She’ll be charming and I’ll ruminate, then we’ll fuck and it’ll be…good. Then Clem will want to see me more, and I’ll have to blow her up, and it’s going to get really awkward. With my Pilates gym, I don’t like to shit where I eat, so I try to gently let Clem know that I’m not interested.

9 p.m. Long day of writing. I’m going to have a drink alone.

10 p.m. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of drunken hipsters here, and they all want to fuck each other and maybe me too.

10:30 p.m. I find myself in a weird threesome with two girls. We all slap our tongues in that little booth at the bar. I try to finger one of them, under his pantyhose or whatever, and the other touches my cock. It’s hot but sloppy. I suggest we go back to one of their places. I prefer not to be at home. When it’s time, I like to “leave” rather than imply that someone has to go.

11:30 p.m. We are in one of their apartments. A girl is looking for coke. The other girl is kind of riding me. I find a condom in my wallet and ask her if she wants to have sex. She says “absolutely”. Before the other girl comes back in the bedroom, after calling her coke boyfriend, we fuck and we’re both almost done.

1am I am coming back home. I like to go home alone at night. It’s good for me.


10am It’s a Minka class. Can I ask him out? Should I?

11:20 a.m. I try to chat with her after class. I want her to know that I’m not a total shitbag – and that I have a great career, maybe even a few fans. We discuss the class and my progress. She seems very indifferent, which only fuels my fire. “Hey, do you have a boyfriend?” I say. “I have a girlfriend,” she said, winking at me. Fuuuuuuck. Of course she does! I walk away thinking that at some point, maybe, she will want to sleep with me again.

4 p.m. While I’m writing, my parents FaceTime me. They’re worrying. They think I’m a loner and maybe a drug addict. My reality is very different from theirs in Texas, so I don’t tell them much because they will never understand. I love this weird, somewhat isolated, somewhat debauched life that I have carved out for myself. It’s probably not forever, but it’s where I want to be right now.

7 p.m. It’s a warm evening, finally, so I grab a bottle of whiskey and take a really long walk.

8 p.m. The girls are texting while I’m walking. I’d say I get five text messages a night from different girls I’ve slept with, flirted with, or met online. I’m not interested in meeting anyone tonight. I need time for me!

10 p.m. I walked for three fucking hours.

11 p.m. Now I take a shower, I fight and I go to sleep.


11:30 a.m. I need a new computer. Mine shits on me. Go to the Apple Store after Pilates.

12:30 p.m. Couple of sexy women at the Apple Store in downtown Brooklyn. I gotta stay focused on this computer shit, though. It’s a lot of money to spend and I don’t like costly mistakes.

3 p.m. Coming home with a brand new, totally pumped up laptop. I just want to fuck on it all night.

7 p.m. On my second bottle of wine, getting to know my new technology.

8 p.m. Browse online. Feeling a bit alone. Very drunk. Invite someone I’ve seen before, Lily, over.

9 p.m. Lily arrives and sees that I’m in plaster and does her best to catch me quickly. I have a great bar – I welcome that. She makes some vodka tonic or some shit and starts sucking me off. She is very good at it. We end up fucking all over my apartment. I think my cat was scared. It was drunk, messy, hot sex, and I’m so grateful for that.

11 p.m. Lily leaves, but first I give her a big, sincere goodbye hug. It was fun. I like Lily because she’s into laid back shit too. I don’t have to worry about consequences with her. Where can I move where people can fuck without “consequences”? Is there such a place?


7 a.m. I make coffee and tidy my place. We really went crazy last night. All of this makes me smile.

10am Sometimes I wonder if I’m the smelly Pilates guy. How would I know? I got crazy toxins to sweat out when I’m out there…do I even want to know the truth?

3 p.m. My novel is taking shape. I dig. Soon I will send a draft to my agent.

5 p.m. I forgot I have a date tonight. Sophie is someone I’ve seen before. She lives in Los Angeles and occasionally comes into town for work. I like it. She is really cool. She’s interesting and deep and beautiful in a not-beautiful way. I was very transparent about my anti-relationship when we first met (online), so she always respected that – but if and when I grow up, I can see getting a bit more serious with Soph.

9 p.m. We eat in a new shed in Greenpoint, which I want to hate but don’t. Good atmosphere here. Sophie is even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. This is the fourth time we’ve been dating in about six months. Unfortunately, she is one of the only women I have seen so many times (which I must add is my doing). I usually try to disengage after the the third time I see someone – I don’t know why, I’m just being honest.

9:30 a.m. We drink wine and catch up. I touch all her legs and her face. She’s a spa-smelling delight and I can’t wait to go somewhere alone with her.

11 p.m. This is my home, and for the first time in a long time, I’m embarrassed by how messed up it is. In the past, we always went to whatever hotel she was staying at for work. She says she wants to fuck me, but I don’t have condoms, and believe it or not, I’m a rubber fanatic. What a fool I am – how could I forget to get new ones knowing this angel was coming to town?

Instead, I put her down until she’s happy. In a weird way I’m glad we didn’t fuck this time so I know she’ll be back for this in the near future.

She goes home, even if I try to pay myself.


7 a.m. I’m seriously considering showing up at Sophie’s hotel just to slip into bed with her. She takes her job very seriously, so I don’t know if she would appreciate that or not. I text her asking if she wants some company.

9:30 a.m. She texts that she just woke up and has a meeting to go to. A gentle blow to the ego. Alas. I head to Pilates (which I was willing to give up for her) instead.

3:15 p.m. Sophie texts that her plans have cleared tonight if I want to go later. An easy YES from me.

9 p.m. We’re in her hotel room making out and getting frisky while intermittently drinking room service margaritas. We had them deliver 4 at a time, two for each of us.

11:30 p.m. I forgot to mention: This time I brought condoms. Many of them.


9am I have a rarely scheduled morning meeting today! I left Sophie’s hotel a few hours ago and am at home freshening up. Having breakfast with my agent.

11 a.m. No Pilates today. Still at this meeting. The agent is excited about my next project. I hope to make enough money to retire from this one. I’m not saying that in jest, although she thinks I’m joking. I am not joking.

4 p.m. A few sweet texts with Sophie as she prepares to fly back to Los Angeles. I’d love to see her again, I tell her, and she says the feeling is “100% mutual.” I think she thinks she’s fucking Hank Moody. I already had that. I’m not going to say that I don’t like it.

9 p.m. Have a few drinks alone at my favorite neighborhood bar. Just soak up the scene. I can’t complain about my life right now. It won’t last forever, but I’m in no rush to change anything.

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About Karren Campbell

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