Aren't you the naked one?

A few summers ago I picked up a guy at a pizza joint. I was there for a friend's party and it had a long table. He wasn't there with my friends but we ended up talking, exchanging numbers, and then starting a few month long fling.

He was real cute, scruffy, artsy, and lived in a nice basement apartment with a garden.  His name was Jon, and truthfully I don't remember his last name so I couldn't tell you even if our rules allowed it.

The first few times Jon and I hung out were fun. We went to a fun experimental music concert in an old oil tanker and had middle eastern food. Random things like that.  But after around date 3, I realized our dates kept getting shorter and our time in bed longer -- and he had a twin XL.

I knew I didn't really want to be with him, but I was in a place where I felt like I needed all my hookups to be leading in a relationship direction, so I decided one day in bed to say "You know, I think we should spend more time together with our clothes on."  At which point he patted me on the ass and said, "aren't you the naked one" He was wearing boxers.

That was the end of that.