One-Night Stand Etiquette: New Yorkers 1, Puerto Ricans 0

I didn’t expect fireworks, a love confession, or even a second round. Maybe being the key word here. It was a one-night stand — casual, sweaty, impulsive — and he was leaving in two days. Nothing complicated, no big promises. Just a fleeting moment shared between two strangers.

But what I definitely didn’t expect was a text.

A simple, “Let me know you got home safe :)” from a New Yorker I’d just met — after a one-night stand — completely short-circuited my Puerto Rican brain. Since when did casual sex come with basic decency? No fake promises, no “te escribo después,” no vanishing acts disguised as tenderness. Just honesty, good sex, and a goodbye text that didn’t feel like emotional CPR.

See, in Puerto Rico, hookup culture comes with extra seasoning — you might call it gaslighting. Men here will whisper sweet nothings, promise to take you out again soon, maybe even talk about introducing you to their dog — only to disappear like a bad WiFi connection once they’re bored. And the worst part? They genuinely think they’re being nice. Like lying about wanting more somehow softens the blow.

I’ve only been with one person outside my culture, and that was him — a Canadian living in New York. He was really nice, respectful, and gave me the best day of my life. It felt like a love story that was meant to only last a day. He never made any promises. We just enjoyed each other until it was time to leave.

That’s the thing — there was no need for promises, no illusions, no games. Just real moments, real respect. And maybe that’s the real luxury.

Back home, it’s a different story. You’re promised the moon and the stars, just to get ghosted or cheated on a couple of days later. Even basic decency doesn’t seem to work. They treat you like a piece of meat, but still promise you the world. The worst part? We fall for it. We want to believe that those empty words mean something. That maybe this time it will be different.

Casual sex can be fun, empowering even. It’s a way to own your body, your desires, and your choices without strings attached. But it can also mess with your head sometimes — especially when the other person treats you like a game and then disappears. That’s when it stops being fun and starts feeling like a self-inflicted wound.

I don’t need the fantasy. I don’t need you to pretend we’re soulmates if you’re just trying to get laid. I just need you to be real with me — preferably with a condom and a post-hookup courtesy text.

Maybe all we really need isn’t forever. Maybe all we need is a little decency when it’s over. A little honesty that doesn’t make you feel like you’re the crazy one for wanting a simple text that says, “Hey, I got home safe.”

It’s not much. But somehow, it’s revolutionary. In a culture where disappearing without a word is the norm, where you’re left guessing if you meant anything at all, a simple message can feel like a lifeline. It says, “You mattered, even if just for a moment.” It honors the fact that we’re not just bodies to be used and discarded, but people deserving of respect and kindness — even in the briefest encounters.

Maybe that’s what we’re really craving — not fairy-tale endings or lifelong promises, but a little humanity in the chaos. A reminder that connection, no matter how fleeting, doesn’t have to come with cruelty or lies. That even when it’s over, the way it ends can leave you feeling seen, not erased.

So yeah, maybe casual sex isn’t supposed to be complicated. But decency? That should be non-negotiable.