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Three Strikes and Birthday Epilogue before/after
I called that girl from the wedding a year ago in April. This is not as insane as it sounds. I saw her this weekend, while visiting her sister and brother-in-law. She stared at me from across the fire. She didn't make herself available to talk to me. We also made eyes at the bar on my birthday, which was a treat. I went to the bar thinking first of becoming a barfly, so as to track down her favorite bar, and have our paths cross, "accidentally", but decided it was a bad idea all the way around. And I caught myself thinking,"You know, if I just caught a glimpse of her, it would make for a very good birthday." And she happened to be at the bar to which I took some friends. Gorgeous blue eyes of the placid sea, brown hair that seems to glow, and beg to be touched, soft luscious skin. As I left, she approached me, and I spontaneously asked her out, the first time we really talked. I am impetuous, spontaneous, impulsive and bold. It was a less than scintillating performance on my part, unabetted by her nervousness or whatever the hell. It started off grandly. "Is kim there?" "This is." "how are you doing?" "Fine. Who is this?" "I'll give you a hint: your grandmother introduced us at your sister's wedding." "Argentum!" she exclaimed, sounding excited and afraid at the same time. I don't get why some young girls are intimidated by me and some aren't. Maybe some have gotten the high hard one, and realize there is nothing to fear, and maybe some haven't lost their heads yet in tawdry, animal like sex, and are intimidated by Girls sometimes confuse fear and lust, love and hate. I also don't understand the proclivity of many of those who are close to me to call me exclusively by my last name. But whatever. It was kinda' downhill from there, it had the feel of us both trying to "drive", if you know what I mean, and I hate that. I would love to lay back and be passive, but at the same time, I don't like being overlooked or walked on, and starting a conversation with passivity is just that. She got another call and put me on call waiting--strike one. I do think it was her sister, "warning" her that I was calling. I think her sister wants us to hook up, she's a good friend of mine, but then, you never know. She got back to me after the call waiting. I asked if she had plans, and she said she was attending a mundane local festival on saturday--strike two. She asked if I would call her tomorrow. I believe she has to consult her friends. (sigh) "I don't know, dude." "WHAT!?" Its like, she took me seriously the whole time--strike three, no sense of humor. for example: She said she works at a credit union, next to a "deja vu" strip joint. So I say,"So, do people get credit then go over to the strip joint?" Modestly witty--people getting credit for whores. Its not all that funny, but its there. Nothing. "Yeah," she says, "I put in an eight hour day, and then I go over there and swing from a pole." Whaaat? Ummmm...not talking about you, but...okay. "Really?" I say. "Oh, god..." "Its allright, Kim, really. I won't judge you." "Okay." All-in-all, this conventional dating bullshit sucks. I've lamented the fact that I am jaded. I also laud the fact that when I see this girl, it hits me in the stomach like a punch to the gut. And reality is, yes I am tired of sleeping with girls that I have to "trick" myself that I genuinely like, or am interested in. Some of them I actually didn't like, which is amusing in and of itself. I think they liked me. In the end, I only care so much, when I realize that what they wanted was something that really didn't have much to do with me. But for whatever reason, my body and mind seem more comfortable in my past ways. I haven't been on a conventional date with a nice girl in years. The last real "date" I suppose I was on was when they rented out the corner of the seventeenth floor of a hotel in downtown denver, and everyone proceeded to liberally do drugs about the place--behind closed doors, that is. Many closed doors, lots of people with nasal conditions. We did a lot of drugs that night, and poor Lydia did none. Probably one of the nails in the coffin of that relationship, but who cares. Sometimes you just gotta' fuck 'em until they go away. And now this: making small talk and getting put on hold. I'm willing to make the effort, but...I don't know. We'll see how it goes.
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