I have to apoligize. I have been wrapped up in a whirlwind of women the last month and have neglected my duties as your stalwart blogger. (By whirlwind... I mean two women... but I wanted to roll with that whole alliteration thing... I promise, I really don't think I'm that "cool.")
I had been seeing this older woman I met over a month or so back and was starting to get bored. The girl (or woman I guess...) has several to quite-a-few years on me which means absolutely nothing, however, in these several to quite-a-few years she had racked up a very serious ex-fiance, a home she owns and has had for like 5 years outside the perimeter(OTP... Great...) and that whole "let's just hang in tonight" attitude on a Friday or Saturday that is fine on occasion, but just isn't where I'm at every weekend.
Now, this should have been a no-brainer. I should have walked away once it was apparent we weren't right for each other right now. But my god... this girl is seriously stunning. As a single heterosexual man who can produce a long line of expert witnesses to that fact, I don't use the word "stunning" to describe women very often. Usually the women I date are conventually pretty. I say "conventually" only because when I turn to the dudes around me and say "isn't she freaking hot?!" they answer, "Dude, she's pretty..." (That is guy talk for "dude calm down, she doesn't do it for me but I see where you're coming from") Now for this girl, I didn't even feel comfortable saying the word "hot."
I simply said, "Dude... this girl is serious beautiful."
To which they replied. "Dude... she is freaking ridiculously beautiful."
See how that works? Maybe you aren't supposed to. I can't really over-analyze it but I think it has something to do with whether I think you're hot, whether every guy in the room thinks you're hot, or whether my female friends would approve. This girl had all my friends trying to tuck in their shirts, use words like "pardon me" and try to act like they opened a book once or twice. That's "stunning." Not "hot" which has everyone tripping over themselves trying to impress you... Stunning.
So yeah, I was trapped. Bored out of my mind, trying to convince her to get down to Atlanta once and a while, and fighting the neverending assault of "movie at home" nights... at HER home... with HER Doctor Doolittle army of pets...
But I kept getting pulled back in. I kept thinking (and was probably right to do so) that it was all me. I'm the one not acting my age right? Hell, my little brother is already married, has a house OTP, and has "barbeques" instead of "house parties." Why shouldn't I??? Sometimes a guy can convince himself that it's his "show" to end. I was seriously under the impression that even though she was the better looking of the two of us, I was the "catch" in the situation. That old ego creeping up again. What's up with that? I remember when I was trying to pick her up at Fado's "The Pub" I was pulling out everything possible from my arsenal. I wasn't going to lose this girl. Then when I found out about the ex-fiance and that he was still hanging around I tripled my war effort. But the second I caught her (or thought I had) I was confoundly bored out of my mind.
I am NOT using that stale old "it's the chase" arguement. That is what lame asses that can't keep genuinely sweet girls say to try to save face. That's a BS excuse and they know it. It wasn't the chase for me. I was just so busy trying to lock it down, that I didn't really get to know her and realize we really aren't at the same point. She, however, did.
After seeing each other for a while I asked her if she wanted to see this movie that I had heard about on the Oscars. The answer was "um... maybe." This was new.
"Maybe you want to see it? Or maybe you are busy?" It couldn't be the second... she doesn't "do" anything on Fridays.
"Um... I'll let you know."
"So Thursday comes and I'm talking to her and I ask in a coy tone, "So have you decided if you'll let me take you to see ::enter movie:: tomorrow?"
"Um... about that... I think I want to just be friends. Kickball is coming up and I don't want it to be ackward."
Let me repeat that... because I think it has earned the right to be repeated. AHEM...
"I think I want to just be friends. Kickball is coming up... and I don't want it to be awkward."
My verbal reaction. "That's a shame, I thought you were a really cool girl. We wouldn't want that. I guess I'll let you go."
Ha!!!!
"That's a shame???" "I thought you were a "really cool" girl?" "We wouldn't want kickball getting awkward???" Haha! It is seriously one of the BEST breakings I have ever been involved in. I mean I have told this one to everyone I know. I am sort of smiling as I retype it now. Fantastic verbal exchange!
And man, I put the phone down and felt so sad. Golly-gosh, Mrs. Cleaver told me I was too young for her. It was either the Kickball Team (of which I just realized many of you don't know about) or me... Mrs. Cleaver chose the Kickball Team.
(Many young singles and couples in Atlanta engage in a sport known as Kickball Sunday afternoons beginning in Spring. It's got a league and everything and is basically one of the most entertaining things to do on a Sunday afternoon. Drinking, flirting, networking, and grilling out follow just behind the kickball.)
Well I was really broken up that I had been "dumped." Haha... I was just too immature I guess... I didn't clean up all my toys and... wait a second! I was the one looking to break it off!!! What's with the flips huh? I was seeing her when I didn't want to see her and felt guilty, now I'm not seeing her and want to see her again and still feel guilty. This is why women get so many drunk dials from ex-boyfriends.
So Blake got dumped. That is so awesome I think. It's the first time in a long time. Not because I'm such a great guy (I'm not). But usually if something isn't going the way I think it should, I'll end it before it gets too serious. This time I was working with a woman that has been there done that, so she nipped the bud before it even started to grow. And I am telling you... I am TOTALLY cool with that!
In typical rebound fashion, I have already dove deep into a new batch of trouble. This one is a bit older as well (that seems to be a trend I'm developing) and would be what my friends describe as "freaking hot," not to be confused with "conventually pretty" or "freaking beautiful." (remember the criteria? Haha... maybe I'm just lame.) The only problem is she seems to be a little too good at the art of drinking. As in... professional. Finding an excuse to grab a drink (or drinks) at the Aquarium on a Saturday afternoon just doesn't seem normal. This is a little iffy right now... we'll see how the weekend goes.
Why am I hooked on this string of "issue" girls. I guess you get what you ask for. I stopped pursuing the "good girls" and have gotten mixed up in a different climate. It's a hotter climate, but that isn't always the best thing. St. Patricks day is upon us and I feel like being a little "professional" myself. Talk to you all sooner rather than later. Oh, and Bert Show better watch out. I'll be at Fado's new joint this Monday when they are on live. So if you or any of the Q-Crew get tried to be picked up by a guy holding a kickball and a letter from his Mom. You'll know that's me. See you there ATL. Slante!
PS. I just reread what I wrote about this girl a month ago... you should too. It's hilarious how things that are "interesting" and "new" can become "boring" after only a few weeks. Total 360 huh?
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
My sad but convenient Buckhead refuses to quit.
It had been like two weeks since I was permitted to get back out into the Atlanta night scene. Life has a way of throwing serious stuff and responsibilities and junk at you at very inopportune times. After successfully dodging a few more, I got a chance to run around my sad but convenient Buckhead.
It’s growing into its new shoes I guess. I spent most of the night at "The Pub," Fado’s temporary joint while they finish there more permanent location. I remember Fado’s proudly declaring "We aren’t leaving!," when the developers bought out all the leases/property in the area. All of "Our dirty Buckhead" was smashed and cleared for "Their shiny Buckhead." Alright, that’s fine. I wasn’t looking to get malaria from my vodka tonic anyway. But "The Pub" was a really good time and it was just another reminder that it’s not going to be what it was.
The band was really weak Saturday night. They needed a break after every third song. Who can blame them? It’s hard singing depressor alternative when everyone around you is stamped, amped, and ready to have a good time.
"Excuse me guys, can we save Black Hole Sun for another night, it’s not helping me find excuses to grab this chick’s ass and pretend it’s part of my ‘moves.’ Can I shoot myself in the head tomorrow? I promise I’ll do it during the climax of White Rabbit…"
Well, the band sucks… ok… reassess, regroup, and adapt.
The crowd was fantastic. A perfect cross-section of ages, classes, and attitudes, maintaining a minimum hotness level throughout about 85% of them all. Have you ever gotten the attention of someone by doing something really stupid? Probably not… women are usually the victims of our stupidity in the art of attention getting. But yeah, I went old school Saturday. Have you seen that beer bottle trick where you clank the bottom of yours on the top of theirs and it makes it foam over? What?!? You haven’t done that? You are all mature and shit? Well I find it hilarious and I’m getting up in years.
Well I don’t know where it came from, but I actually attempted to get this girls attention via that bit of absurdity. She clearly looked like the type of woman that would not be impressed by this display of immaturity. She was dressed conservatively, appeared to be older than I am (which in woman years is even more significant), and was drinking water… no bonus drunk points. I felt like I was back in high school trying to impress the cute smart girl from the advanced English class via ball-racking the guy next to me in the hall. Good times… It couldn’t possibly… Holy crap it worked.
This is just shameful. I got a laugh pulled a devious smile and then reaped the benefits of a frustrated friend. I told him I’d grab him another beer, of course offered to get her anything while I was over there for being such a great audience and scored a conversation along the way.
Really interesting woman as well. Already owns her first home (OTP style…) which is quite impressive to an urban apartment hopper such as myself. Has a great job where she travels a lot, like I do, and loves animals. Oh boy does she love animals. I visited her house to pick her up for a lunch date and it was Doctor Doolittle. Dogs, cats, birds, and fish. All plural! Now I really hate cats, and I hate cats whose owners try to pass them off as "just like a dog!" No way. That is a cat. It smells like a cat, sneaks around like a cat, and if I call it to pet it, it will certainly run and hide and skulk at me like a cat. Freaking cats man. Anyway, she at no point tried to pass her cats off as dogs, which earned her street cred in my book. And we had a genuinely fun afternoon. Park, lunch at this Mexican OTP place I know, and an afternoon drive.
"Very tame Blake!"
"Yes I know!" You see, I have to take this one a little slower than usual because…
There is an ex-fiancé of four years very much still in the picture. This is a new one for me. Ex-fiancé can mean anything. Maybe they were younger and thought they were meant for each other when they weren’t. Maybe he was a genuinely great guy but they just fell out of love. Maybe he was nuts, and she’s just as bad… It could mean anything or nothing at all. Which is fine… I don’t discriminate! Now from what I’ve gathered, quite cautiously, the breakup was very one-sided. One-sided where he didn’t want to leave and she did. So she punted him out of her OTP house. I’m imagining it was a bit hairy for a while there. Still, many many months down the road they still talk and he baby-sits the animal farm when she’s out of town. And yeah… Hmm… I’m not saying I’m not game… I’m an equal opportunist in love! As a friend of mine said, "Sometimes the hottest porn is in the "Little Mermaid" case." However, I will be proceeding with caution.
Regardless, it’s fun getting to know someone who’s led such a different life up until now than myself. It kinda keeps me guessing as to what she’s going to respond to and what I’m losing points for. Not to mention… she’s quite pretty at that. I’ll keep you posted.
It’s growing into its new shoes I guess. I spent most of the night at "The Pub," Fado’s temporary joint while they finish there more permanent location. I remember Fado’s proudly declaring "We aren’t leaving!," when the developers bought out all the leases/property in the area. All of "Our dirty Buckhead" was smashed and cleared for "Their shiny Buckhead." Alright, that’s fine. I wasn’t looking to get malaria from my vodka tonic anyway. But "The Pub" was a really good time and it was just another reminder that it’s not going to be what it was.
The band was really weak Saturday night. They needed a break after every third song. Who can blame them? It’s hard singing depressor alternative when everyone around you is stamped, amped, and ready to have a good time.
"Excuse me guys, can we save Black Hole Sun for another night, it’s not helping me find excuses to grab this chick’s ass and pretend it’s part of my ‘moves.’ Can I shoot myself in the head tomorrow? I promise I’ll do it during the climax of White Rabbit…"
Well, the band sucks… ok… reassess, regroup, and adapt.
The crowd was fantastic. A perfect cross-section of ages, classes, and attitudes, maintaining a minimum hotness level throughout about 85% of them all. Have you ever gotten the attention of someone by doing something really stupid? Probably not… women are usually the victims of our stupidity in the art of attention getting. But yeah, I went old school Saturday. Have you seen that beer bottle trick where you clank the bottom of yours on the top of theirs and it makes it foam over? What?!? You haven’t done that? You are all mature and shit? Well I find it hilarious and I’m getting up in years.
Well I don’t know where it came from, but I actually attempted to get this girls attention via that bit of absurdity. She clearly looked like the type of woman that would not be impressed by this display of immaturity. She was dressed conservatively, appeared to be older than I am (which in woman years is even more significant), and was drinking water… no bonus drunk points. I felt like I was back in high school trying to impress the cute smart girl from the advanced English class via ball-racking the guy next to me in the hall. Good times… It couldn’t possibly… Holy crap it worked.
This is just shameful. I got a laugh pulled a devious smile and then reaped the benefits of a frustrated friend. I told him I’d grab him another beer, of course offered to get her anything while I was over there for being such a great audience and scored a conversation along the way.
Really interesting woman as well. Already owns her first home (OTP style…) which is quite impressive to an urban apartment hopper such as myself. Has a great job where she travels a lot, like I do, and loves animals. Oh boy does she love animals. I visited her house to pick her up for a lunch date and it was Doctor Doolittle. Dogs, cats, birds, and fish. All plural! Now I really hate cats, and I hate cats whose owners try to pass them off as "just like a dog!" No way. That is a cat. It smells like a cat, sneaks around like a cat, and if I call it to pet it, it will certainly run and hide and skulk at me like a cat. Freaking cats man. Anyway, she at no point tried to pass her cats off as dogs, which earned her street cred in my book. And we had a genuinely fun afternoon. Park, lunch at this Mexican OTP place I know, and an afternoon drive.
"Very tame Blake!"
"Yes I know!" You see, I have to take this one a little slower than usual because…
There is an ex-fiancé of four years very much still in the picture. This is a new one for me. Ex-fiancé can mean anything. Maybe they were younger and thought they were meant for each other when they weren’t. Maybe he was a genuinely great guy but they just fell out of love. Maybe he was nuts, and she’s just as bad… It could mean anything or nothing at all. Which is fine… I don’t discriminate! Now from what I’ve gathered, quite cautiously, the breakup was very one-sided. One-sided where he didn’t want to leave and she did. So she punted him out of her OTP house. I’m imagining it was a bit hairy for a while there. Still, many many months down the road they still talk and he baby-sits the animal farm when she’s out of town. And yeah… Hmm… I’m not saying I’m not game… I’m an equal opportunist in love! As a friend of mine said, "Sometimes the hottest porn is in the "Little Mermaid" case." However, I will be proceeding with caution.
Regardless, it’s fun getting to know someone who’s led such a different life up until now than myself. It kinda keeps me guessing as to what she’s going to respond to and what I’m losing points for. Not to mention… she’s quite pretty at that. I’ll keep you posted.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
A Diabetes Inducing "Sweet Thought" for the Week
Well it’s been… yeah… forever. Sorry to leave you all for such a dry spell but it’s been a wicked last two weeks for your humble narrator. We lost someone very special in the Blake universe, and it has kept me from pursuing my more personal… oh hell, “selfish” desires. Without going into too much detail I will simply say that a really cool person passed away last week at a respectable age and one thing he/she had mentioned to me often was the importance of love. Specifically, for all of us to find and share our lives with someone who tries to love us more than we love them. The logic being, that if everyone followed this plan, love would be like a competition. You would try to out-do your partner in how much you love them. They would of course do the same in turn. So on and so on until everything was quite… lovely.
That’s a really “sweet” thought I think. This person lost their partner far too early in life and this made we who knew him/her very sad. This older and wiser line of thinking about love was always dismissed when I would talk to him/her. It didn’t fall into my more selfish line of thinking, which was more about how to keep the girl around than to genuinely attempt love-on-love action. My goal has usually been to ensure you aren’t going elsewhere because you got it better with me. As soon as that was locked up, then I had reached to mark and would just try to maintain. But that’s like giving money to charity only to make yourself feel like you’re good person, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, any charity is good charity but it’s more meaningful when it’s not done for selfish reasons right? Not just trying to find the minimum requirement to be “a good guy” and then stop trying?
“Wow, it’s great he sends those poor starving Icelandic children money for pencil cases, but he doesn’t really care if the damn things work or not. He just cut us a check, told thirteen people about what a good person he was, and then left before we could get him to inspect the damn pencil cases. Hell they don’t even have pencils in Iceland!”
Good deeds done for selfish reasons. I’m gonna keep this one short, but it was something I had been thinking about when thinking of this person. I figured I’d either share this “sugar-enriched” thought with all of you rather than writing up a full article on navy beans. Navy beans, while they are another thing I think of when I remember this person, are rather boring as far as topics go. Damn… now I want White Chili.
Blake would like to apologize to all his Icelandic readers and also to Bjork. Having never visited Iceland under fear it would be “too green” for him, Blake is sure that somewhere in the great nation of Iceland, someone is writing with a No. 2 pencil and not carving in the snow with a pointed stick. Long live our noble Icelandic brethren of the north.
Now because he's a "good guy"...
White Chile Recipe from me to you.
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves of smooshed garlic
Half a cup of cooked green chile peppers (Caned is lame, but do what you gotta)
2 teaspoons cumin
¼ cup of flour (only for thickening… try it without. See if I care.)
1 teaspoon oregano (fresh is better, but do what you have to)
1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper or two diced jalapeños
30 ounces of chicken broth
3-4 large cooked and chopped chicken breasts
3 cans of Navy Beans (aka. Fagioli/White Beans/Yankee Beans/Great Northern Bean or whatever you call them around your neck of the woods.)
Directions: Everything that isn’t Chicken, Chicken Broth, or Beans goes in the pot for five minutes on medium-low. Stir for Christ's sake. After that, in goes the protein stuff and it simmers another 20 minutes. Stir again for Christ's sake. Serve it with something Bread/Tortilla-like. Simple. Delicious. Simply delicious.
That’s a really “sweet” thought I think. This person lost their partner far too early in life and this made we who knew him/her very sad. This older and wiser line of thinking about love was always dismissed when I would talk to him/her. It didn’t fall into my more selfish line of thinking, which was more about how to keep the girl around than to genuinely attempt love-on-love action. My goal has usually been to ensure you aren’t going elsewhere because you got it better with me. As soon as that was locked up, then I had reached to mark and would just try to maintain. But that’s like giving money to charity only to make yourself feel like you’re good person, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, any charity is good charity but it’s more meaningful when it’s not done for selfish reasons right? Not just trying to find the minimum requirement to be “a good guy” and then stop trying?
“Wow, it’s great he sends those poor starving Icelandic children money for pencil cases, but he doesn’t really care if the damn things work or not. He just cut us a check, told thirteen people about what a good person he was, and then left before we could get him to inspect the damn pencil cases. Hell they don’t even have pencils in Iceland!”
Good deeds done for selfish reasons. I’m gonna keep this one short, but it was something I had been thinking about when thinking of this person. I figured I’d either share this “sugar-enriched” thought with all of you rather than writing up a full article on navy beans. Navy beans, while they are another thing I think of when I remember this person, are rather boring as far as topics go. Damn… now I want White Chili.
Blake would like to apologize to all his Icelandic readers and also to Bjork. Having never visited Iceland under fear it would be “too green” for him, Blake is sure that somewhere in the great nation of Iceland, someone is writing with a No. 2 pencil and not carving in the snow with a pointed stick. Long live our noble Icelandic brethren of the north.
Now because he's a "good guy"...
White Chile Recipe from me to you.
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves of smooshed garlic
Half a cup of cooked green chile peppers (Caned is lame, but do what you gotta)
2 teaspoons cumin
¼ cup of flour (only for thickening… try it without. See if I care.)
1 teaspoon oregano (fresh is better, but do what you have to)
1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper or two diced jalapeños
30 ounces of chicken broth
3-4 large cooked and chopped chicken breasts
3 cans of Navy Beans (aka. Fagioli/White Beans/Yankee Beans/Great Northern Bean or whatever you call them around your neck of the woods.)
Directions: Everything that isn’t Chicken, Chicken Broth, or Beans goes in the pot for five minutes on medium-low. Stir for Christ's sake. After that, in goes the protein stuff and it simmers another 20 minutes. Stir again for Christ's sake. Serve it with something Bread/Tortilla-like. Simple. Delicious. Simply delicious.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Become famous! Wait... Get an e-mail read on the air and then become famous!
With the help of my friends at The Bert Show on Q-100, we are going to be reading some of the e-mails you've sent me over the air periodically and answering your "ask the dude" questions with a real live 100% certified dude.
E-mail me at BlakeinAtlanta@aol.com for all your "guy-to-girl" translations, outside opinions, or just to tell me I'm full of shit. It could get on the air! But it absolutely will get an answer. And isn't that what we're all looking for anyway? An answer? ::sigh::
As there are lots of guys out there, be sure to give me an idea of what kind of guy you are dealing with. I don't want to mistag my marks here.
Blake assures you he was using his "radio voice" as he was typing this update. If he had a $50 gift certificate to Outback Steak House he would be taking callers at the moment.
Getting Laid: The ends justifying the means.
Something Jenn and Melissa said to me on the air the other day made a lot of sense. I’m not used to dealing with “good girls” in the early game so I stick to what I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being a “good guy” when given the opportunity. It's more me than me.
These days I meet women when I’m at a bar/club (fairly steady) or when I’m set up by a friend (more than steady). Our circles grow smaller as we get older, so what I know, is what I do. The only “rub” is that there’s a huge gap between what a guy uses when dealing with some girl we pick up and don’t really care about yet and the way we deal with a girl we are forced to respect from the beginning.
“What the hell do you mean “forced to respect!?,” you cry, sharpening your letter-openers and various other objects within reach of your computer.
Hold on. Let me explain. Single guys want to get laid… all the time. When we know we are probably going to be sleeping with you in the very near future, we don’t really have to worry about anything other than what it takes to get you there. There is a large group of guys out there to whom your mothers were totally right about.
Explained? No? Hmm… Well, remember that how your man thinks of you now is usually a helluva lot different than how he thought of you then. How did we think of you back then? Well for me, “She’s cute. Let’s do this.,” comes to mind. To be honest, a lot of us didn’t “think of you” in any way. I’m pretty sure we weren’t thinking about whether you were funny, sweet, had “kind eyes,” would treat us well, etc. I’ll learn to respect you as a person later, like after I find out if I’m even interested in learning that in the first place. For now, let me respect you for going back to my place because “I promise I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want you riding home with your drunk friends.”
“How romantic…” ::sigh::
Side note:
Maybe you don’t remember your guy lying to you or acting like you “weren’t such hot shit” to pick you up (that sadly works). Maybe your man was sweet and sincere and funny and charming. I’ve met a lot of those guys too. I’ve acted like that guy too. I probably AM that guy too. But that business don’t fly at Fever. (For the record I have never gotten laid as a direct result of going to Fever. However, I have never gotten a drink thrown in my face as a result either. Massive success!) That kind of guy wants to get laid (all the time), but doesn’t want to go through the work it takes to do it. It’d be nice to say he just won’t stoop to “those tactics” wouldn’t it? Heh… he would if he didn’t think about it so much. But no, he’s the one at the table drinking with his friends that keeps looking your way then fake-laughing at one of his friends fake-jokes, then looking your way again, then never getting up, then never walking over, then always going home a little too drunk and a little too alone… yeah… that’s the one. I have a few friends like that if you’re interested. Good guys. Normal guys. I’m usually with them at the table… until I remember I want to get laid… all the time. Back to the topic...
So let’s take the Blake look at the “semi-blind date/group date” opening. This is the area I imagine a lot of woman and guys find themselves (it’s always fun to not have to do work). However, in this situation I’m no longer dealing with the “You’re cute. Let’s do this,” scenario. Now I have to think about stuff other than getting laid. Your average guy has to like “listen” and stuff. Be honest about what he does, where he lives, who he is. This is a problem. I just recently behaved like a total ass to a girl I met out of a similar situation when she called-me-out for exercising my “inner-douche.” Now I’m back in it again with my sister-in-law’s best friend. I feel a little off balance. I can’t focus on saying/doing/behaving in all the ways I usually do in those first few weeks because those behaviors would get me severely beaten and taken off the “godfather list” for any future nephews (sister-in-law’s bestest friend in the whole wide world remember?). So now you’re telling me I gotta respect this girl enough to be myself and shit? That sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I can play that game too. This was just a lot easier when she was “just some girl I met” and I could focus on getting laid… all the time.
There is something flawed with this system. If the guys that act like pricks are getting both the “good girls” and the “bad girls” and the “good guys” are only getting the “good girls.” Then, when are the “bad girls” gonna get their “good guys” too? I have a headache, and it’s all bullshit anyway people. The truth is, the tail you pull is the tail you pull. There aren’t really “good and bad” people. Just “shy and confident” or “insecure and cocky” people. The guy at the bar may use a different front-end to pull you but you’ll get to know the real him down the line. (maybe he’s still worthless, maybe it was all an act) At the same time that sweet charming guy could turn out to be Charles Manson.
What do they say on the news? “He was such a kind man. Such a friendly man. I never would have imagined he was eating the toe-nail clippings of the neighborhood dogs and killing all those nuns with a pasta tong.”
So like I said in the beginning, I continue to stick to what I know. I play the same game any guy would to meet the objective, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a New Years vacation to Hilton Head to get to know you better. And I like remembering stuff you tell me. It’s pretty cool when you know someone’s favorite tree is an Oak. Wait… no it’s not… Christ… anyway. I guess that’s the difference between my two dating circles right now. One has me getting laid, not knowing if it was worth it. The other has me getting to know you… not knowing if it was worth it… heh. Thanks Jenn and Melissa, you gave me a topic for the week ;)
Blake’s Tail-Sighting for the week: Churchhill’s in Buckhead. That place was freaking packed as of Jan 5 with wall to wall girl-tail and guy-tail. Hit it before the universities and NYE resolutions kick into high gear.
These days I meet women when I’m at a bar/club (fairly steady) or when I’m set up by a friend (more than steady). Our circles grow smaller as we get older, so what I know, is what I do. The only “rub” is that there’s a huge gap between what a guy uses when dealing with some girl we pick up and don’t really care about yet and the way we deal with a girl we are forced to respect from the beginning.
“What the hell do you mean “forced to respect!?,” you cry, sharpening your letter-openers and various other objects within reach of your computer.
Hold on. Let me explain. Single guys want to get laid… all the time. When we know we are probably going to be sleeping with you in the very near future, we don’t really have to worry about anything other than what it takes to get you there. There is a large group of guys out there to whom your mothers were totally right about.
Explained? No? Hmm… Well, remember that how your man thinks of you now is usually a helluva lot different than how he thought of you then. How did we think of you back then? Well for me, “She’s cute. Let’s do this.,” comes to mind. To be honest, a lot of us didn’t “think of you” in any way. I’m pretty sure we weren’t thinking about whether you were funny, sweet, had “kind eyes,” would treat us well, etc. I’ll learn to respect you as a person later, like after I find out if I’m even interested in learning that in the first place. For now, let me respect you for going back to my place because “I promise I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want you riding home with your drunk friends.”
“How romantic…” ::sigh::
Side note:
Maybe you don’t remember your guy lying to you or acting like you “weren’t such hot shit” to pick you up (that sadly works). Maybe your man was sweet and sincere and funny and charming. I’ve met a lot of those guys too. I’ve acted like that guy too. I probably AM that guy too. But that business don’t fly at Fever. (For the record I have never gotten laid as a direct result of going to Fever. However, I have never gotten a drink thrown in my face as a result either. Massive success!) That kind of guy wants to get laid (all the time), but doesn’t want to go through the work it takes to do it. It’d be nice to say he just won’t stoop to “those tactics” wouldn’t it? Heh… he would if he didn’t think about it so much. But no, he’s the one at the table drinking with his friends that keeps looking your way then fake-laughing at one of his friends fake-jokes, then looking your way again, then never getting up, then never walking over, then always going home a little too drunk and a little too alone… yeah… that’s the one. I have a few friends like that if you’re interested. Good guys. Normal guys. I’m usually with them at the table… until I remember I want to get laid… all the time. Back to the topic...
So let’s take the Blake look at the “semi-blind date/group date” opening. This is the area I imagine a lot of woman and guys find themselves (it’s always fun to not have to do work). However, in this situation I’m no longer dealing with the “You’re cute. Let’s do this,” scenario. Now I have to think about stuff other than getting laid. Your average guy has to like “listen” and stuff. Be honest about what he does, where he lives, who he is. This is a problem. I just recently behaved like a total ass to a girl I met out of a similar situation when she called-me-out for exercising my “inner-douche.” Now I’m back in it again with my sister-in-law’s best friend. I feel a little off balance. I can’t focus on saying/doing/behaving in all the ways I usually do in those first few weeks because those behaviors would get me severely beaten and taken off the “godfather list” for any future nephews (sister-in-law’s bestest friend in the whole wide world remember?). So now you’re telling me I gotta respect this girl enough to be myself and shit? That sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I can play that game too. This was just a lot easier when she was “just some girl I met” and I could focus on getting laid… all the time.
There is something flawed with this system. If the guys that act like pricks are getting both the “good girls” and the “bad girls” and the “good guys” are only getting the “good girls.” Then, when are the “bad girls” gonna get their “good guys” too? I have a headache, and it’s all bullshit anyway people. The truth is, the tail you pull is the tail you pull. There aren’t really “good and bad” people. Just “shy and confident” or “insecure and cocky” people. The guy at the bar may use a different front-end to pull you but you’ll get to know the real him down the line. (maybe he’s still worthless, maybe it was all an act) At the same time that sweet charming guy could turn out to be Charles Manson.
What do they say on the news? “He was such a kind man. Such a friendly man. I never would have imagined he was eating the toe-nail clippings of the neighborhood dogs and killing all those nuns with a pasta tong.”
So like I said in the beginning, I continue to stick to what I know. I play the same game any guy would to meet the objective, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a New Years vacation to Hilton Head to get to know you better. And I like remembering stuff you tell me. It’s pretty cool when you know someone’s favorite tree is an Oak. Wait… no it’s not… Christ… anyway. I guess that’s the difference between my two dating circles right now. One has me getting laid, not knowing if it was worth it. The other has me getting to know you… not knowing if it was worth it… heh. Thanks Jenn and Melissa, you gave me a topic for the week ;)
Blake’s Tail-Sighting for the week: Churchhill’s in Buckhead. That place was freaking packed as of Jan 5 with wall to wall girl-tail and guy-tail. Hit it before the universities and NYE resolutions kick into high gear.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Good-looking Options: A reason to say "Who cares!"
My girl on the back-burner, burned. Left her back there too long and she scorched. It's happened before, but it was usually with women I wasn't really interested in - in the first place. Some friend of a friend that thought I was cute, or a little sister of a girl I thought was cute... or yeah... "just some girl." When that was the case I had no problem stringing them out and then shrugging when they got tired of it. This time I left a good one on the hook a little too long. Too-tall Tami's number is officially retired, and I left her dead like Disco. Not Elvis dead, where you think you see him down the aisle at Kroger at 3 AM. "Is that Elvis checking out a can of corn?" "Maybe that's me and Too-tall back together again in a few weeks?" Nope. I made sure this one was dead like Disco Duck.
Now how did this happen? Well I'm sad to say I basically got tired of feeling guilty. I have my brother trying to set me up with this fine looking friend of his wife's, and I got this girl I met a while back at Compound calling me out of the blue for... yeah. This has been a really good set of weeks for your humble narrator. Not my usual brand of fortune at all (which isn't shabby at that). But this run has been a good one. So I was going to take advantage of this and I thought Tami was telling the truth when she said she was cool with the "arrangement." Heh... Jackass. So after increasingly more frequent arguments in which I later hung up the phone knowing I was to blame, I called it off. Tired of feeling guilty. We had sparks, but nothing so bright I didn't see the other stars out there. And oh boy did I end it. Not by admitting I was wrong, ohh no friends. Ladies and gentlemen I give you the softer side of Blake, and the straw that broke the Back-burner's back... AHEM...
"If you hadn't pressured me into that bullshit family lunch or brunch or whatever the hell it was, we wouldn't be here right now."
Thank you.
Where did that come from? That wasn't even a sound and justified "flip" of the argument. That was just... freaking... mean. Phone arguments are the worse. Someone is going to hangup and then not call back. Or if they call back, someone isn't going to answer. And even if they call back to apologize for hanging up, the other person is going to be so pissed that they got hung up on, that they don't want to hear it. So then we gotta throw something back that is equally as insulting as the hang-up and thus the cycle continues until you get really great make-up sex, or call it quits... Yeah, I'll take my chances this time.
So I only have one regret and that's that I was such a prick. That, and I'm sure it'll be a few spins at the wheel until I find another good girl that will put up with me. Now...
Can I tell you about this fine looking girl my sister-in-law hooked me up with! I'm telling you, having a married younger brother is a sweet deal. Even in the occasional doldrums of dating, you always have that sister-in-law wanting to set you up. She doesn't even like me, but if I'm going to be at her house anyway, she might as well make some introductions so that I'm there with someone she DOES like.
So, Diana is sort of a girly-girl and I can work with that, but I gotta get a feel for what that means in her case. Lots of girly-girls out there, some pounding bibles and some pounding shots... we can't assume anything yet. So two Friday's back we hit Dad's Garage for improv. Now, I think improv is kinda campy, but they're good there and it's a way I can see if I'm dealing with a depression session or someone who enjoys laughing. Good first date litmus. They are doing this "Ask Dr. Frapple," thing right now where you shout out "personal problems" and the group diagnoses you and so on. This gives me a chance to be the "good" sort of "idiot" and have some fun at my own expense without being held responsible if she doesn't respond well. I like walking that line with women. I know so many guys that just think "acting like a bad ass" is going to get them somewhere. And on the other end you have the dudes that go so far out there it's just painful to watch. I'll get a little ridiculous and then bring it back. That kinda "keep you laughing, keep you turned on" game is fun for me. Great sex never came after "you're hilarious, you remind me of my brother." Diana passed the litmus. Game on.
The show is a pretty late one, so we got out closer to Midnight than not. Another good thing about Dad's for first-second dates is that you get out late but you're kinda wired, so no heading home yet. Since Atlanta formally closed Buckhead (after I freaking moved there... what's that all about?) I've been experimenting around the city (Remind me to give my recommendations sometime.) Right now I'm liking Midtown. Loca Luna has a great Brazilian band that plays late on Fridays and the mood is good for when you're arriving with the same person you hope to be leaving with. (Side note, I just discovered this place... and I'm the one supposed to be giving advice here...) It's got the loud areas and the quiet areas. I hate yelling in bars... I freaking hate it. You sound like a jackass, and you can hardly be subtle. So anyplace that offers a patio, or a corner, or something secluded, while not drifting into "corny romantic" is a good thing.
At Loca Luna I learned that Diana wants to go back to school and become a teacher - Noble. Reads a lot - Smart. Likes dogs - Kind Hearted. And Hates cats - Perfect. We talked a lot about my brother's marriage through our respective lenses and I made sure to listen and take mental notes for future dates to come. See... I exploit the fact that you think we don't remember stuff. We can forget 13 "important things" (Where you went to school, your birthday... your last name...) if we remember one stupid "little thing" about you ("You wore that necklace the second time we ever went out."). Devious-ness. I'll collect them like baseball cards.
Bottom line, I like her. We've been out two more times since, and it's hardly dull yet. We'll see what happens.
Let us know you're into us, we don't like the whole "tease thing." But don't start chasing. Walk that line carefully, but walk it. Don't move too far one way or another in the opening months, because we'll either prematurely decide it isn't worth it, or leap into something we'll regret not having thought out later down the line. I had convinced myself I was going to slow down and try to work something out with Tami "The-Girl-that-Wanted-More." I don't think I wanted that at all, and I wrote a whole article on it. Even though she didn't really "pressure" me into anything, I had to make a choice. Whether it was right or wrong? Well I know what the mass majority will say... But with good-looking options... I can worry about that later.
Blake would like to remind you that he has been rather thoughtful and sensitive in past articles. He would ask that you forgive him his temporary bout of cockiness arguing, "Hey, it was due... I have a penis don't I?" He would also like to apologize for having just used his penis as an excuse for acting like a prick... um... The point being, he realizes that he will most likely be "kicking his own ass" sooner rather than later.
Now how did this happen? Well I'm sad to say I basically got tired of feeling guilty. I have my brother trying to set me up with this fine looking friend of his wife's, and I got this girl I met a while back at Compound calling me out of the blue for... yeah. This has been a really good set of weeks for your humble narrator. Not my usual brand of fortune at all (which isn't shabby at that). But this run has been a good one. So I was going to take advantage of this and I thought Tami was telling the truth when she said she was cool with the "arrangement." Heh... Jackass. So after increasingly more frequent arguments in which I later hung up the phone knowing I was to blame, I called it off. Tired of feeling guilty. We had sparks, but nothing so bright I didn't see the other stars out there. And oh boy did I end it. Not by admitting I was wrong, ohh no friends. Ladies and gentlemen I give you the softer side of Blake, and the straw that broke the Back-burner's back... AHEM...
"If you hadn't pressured me into that bullshit family lunch or brunch or whatever the hell it was, we wouldn't be here right now."
Thank you.
Where did that come from? That wasn't even a sound and justified "flip" of the argument. That was just... freaking... mean. Phone arguments are the worse. Someone is going to hangup and then not call back. Or if they call back, someone isn't going to answer. And even if they call back to apologize for hanging up, the other person is going to be so pissed that they got hung up on, that they don't want to hear it. So then we gotta throw something back that is equally as insulting as the hang-up and thus the cycle continues until you get really great make-up sex, or call it quits... Yeah, I'll take my chances this time.
So I only have one regret and that's that I was such a prick. That, and I'm sure it'll be a few spins at the wheel until I find another good girl that will put up with me. Now...
Can I tell you about this fine looking girl my sister-in-law hooked me up with! I'm telling you, having a married younger brother is a sweet deal. Even in the occasional doldrums of dating, you always have that sister-in-law wanting to set you up. She doesn't even like me, but if I'm going to be at her house anyway, she might as well make some introductions so that I'm there with someone she DOES like.
So, Diana is sort of a girly-girl and I can work with that, but I gotta get a feel for what that means in her case. Lots of girly-girls out there, some pounding bibles and some pounding shots... we can't assume anything yet. So two Friday's back we hit Dad's Garage for improv. Now, I think improv is kinda campy, but they're good there and it's a way I can see if I'm dealing with a depression session or someone who enjoys laughing. Good first date litmus. They are doing this "Ask Dr. Frapple," thing right now where you shout out "personal problems" and the group diagnoses you and so on. This gives me a chance to be the "good" sort of "idiot" and have some fun at my own expense without being held responsible if she doesn't respond well. I like walking that line with women. I know so many guys that just think "acting like a bad ass" is going to get them somewhere. And on the other end you have the dudes that go so far out there it's just painful to watch. I'll get a little ridiculous and then bring it back. That kinda "keep you laughing, keep you turned on" game is fun for me. Great sex never came after "you're hilarious, you remind me of my brother." Diana passed the litmus. Game on.
The show is a pretty late one, so we got out closer to Midnight than not. Another good thing about Dad's for first-second dates is that you get out late but you're kinda wired, so no heading home yet. Since Atlanta formally closed Buckhead (after I freaking moved there... what's that all about?) I've been experimenting around the city (Remind me to give my recommendations sometime.) Right now I'm liking Midtown. Loca Luna has a great Brazilian band that plays late on Fridays and the mood is good for when you're arriving with the same person you hope to be leaving with. (Side note, I just discovered this place... and I'm the one supposed to be giving advice here...) It's got the loud areas and the quiet areas. I hate yelling in bars... I freaking hate it. You sound like a jackass, and you can hardly be subtle. So anyplace that offers a patio, or a corner, or something secluded, while not drifting into "corny romantic" is a good thing.
At Loca Luna I learned that Diana wants to go back to school and become a teacher - Noble. Reads a lot - Smart. Likes dogs - Kind Hearted. And Hates cats - Perfect. We talked a lot about my brother's marriage through our respective lenses and I made sure to listen and take mental notes for future dates to come. See... I exploit the fact that you think we don't remember stuff. We can forget 13 "important things" (Where you went to school, your birthday... your last name...) if we remember one stupid "little thing" about you ("You wore that necklace the second time we ever went out."). Devious-ness. I'll collect them like baseball cards.
Bottom line, I like her. We've been out two more times since, and it's hardly dull yet. We'll see what happens.
Let us know you're into us, we don't like the whole "tease thing." But don't start chasing. Walk that line carefully, but walk it. Don't move too far one way or another in the opening months, because we'll either prematurely decide it isn't worth it, or leap into something we'll regret not having thought out later down the line. I had convinced myself I was going to slow down and try to work something out with Tami "The-Girl-that-Wanted-More." I don't think I wanted that at all, and I wrote a whole article on it. Even though she didn't really "pressure" me into anything, I had to make a choice. Whether it was right or wrong? Well I know what the mass majority will say... But with good-looking options... I can worry about that later.
Blake would like to remind you that he has been rather thoughtful and sensitive in past articles. He would ask that you forgive him his temporary bout of cockiness arguing, "Hey, it was due... I have a penis don't I?" He would also like to apologize for having just used his penis as an excuse for acting like a prick... um... The point being, he realizes that he will most likely be "kicking his own ass" sooner rather than later.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Thanksgiving Day Guilt: The Trouble with Good Girls
Maybe I'm a hypocrite, but I want a do-over!
A few weeks back I was so proud of myself. Oh boy, was I gleaming! I had decided to single out the “good girls.” The ones with “values.” The girls who “got it.” Well now I’m not getting it and I got nothing but my own preening to blame. I’ve lived a pretty fun life up until now, but I can honestly say that Thanksgiving 2007 will tend to stick out like something Fido left in the snow.
I had decided that I would stop disappointing this girl Tami. (Yeah she has been a steady and respectable back burner since we began this romp a few months back.) She has steadfastly chased me and I have continuously reminded her that I wasn’t looking for anything serious. She always answers “Oh God, I know. Me neither!” I believed her. Idiot.
She knew I was going out, seeing other women, and she tended to be fine with that. I assumed she was doing the same. Idiot. She didn’t live in the city yet, and we only saw each other every few weeks. But somehow along the way, her move to Atlanta was involving me a lot more that I figured it would. Don’t get me wrong. She was going to move here regardless. But I heard a lot more of, “Well I can’t wait until I get down there so we can (insert couple-like action).” Hmm… I’m not thinking about “us” this often. There isn’t really an “us” to think about.
How can I derail this thought process? Well, she’s finishing up grad school and there’s going to be a lot on her plate, so I tried deflective comments like “Well you’ll probably want to focus on looking for a job/apartment/life. January could be kinda hard for um… yeah… all that stuff.” (I’m not even sure what the hell that means. I’m just trying to intercept some dangerous conversation paths here.) Her answer is painfully simple. “Family.” She’ll be working for her family, staying with her family, and focused on helping her family’s business. Wow. That is really… family orientated of her. A “good girl,” a girl with “values,” and a girl who “gets it.” Is this an Asian thing? Because it’s definitely a scary thing.
And then she makes the move (figuratively and literally), and the whole “values” thing I was harping on the week before, firmly harpoons me in the ass. “Let’s have Thanksgiving Brunch with my folks.”
“Um… huh?”
“Nothing serious, not like dinner or anything. They just want to meet you. In and out, like an hour. It’s a Japanese thing.” (I’m getting flashes of like, Papa-san ninja-ing me in half for having “tainted his daughter.”) This is an impossible situation. And yeah, I’m screwed.
My Options as they came to me that faithful evening:
Response 1: “Um… that’s a little much isn’t it?”
Outcome 1: “Why do you always think this is more than what it is!? I understand the whole ‘not serious’ thing. I’m tired of hearing it.” And…. fight.
Response 2: “Um… I can’t, I’m with family that morning.”
Outcome 2: “But you hate your family.” And I’m lying… and she knows it…. and… guilt.
Response 3: “Um… That kind of family introduction thing isn’t something I really do.”
Outcome 3: “It’s something I have to do. They are already asking about this guy I’m spending time with when I’m in town. It’s important to me. Why can’t you just give them like an hour?” And…. I’m stuck.
So I’m having Thanksgiving Brunch with Tami’s family. Yeah, bombard me with the “shouldas” and the “couldas” now. Mom’s smiling a lot, but not saying much. The two sisters, both married with children, are going nonstop and asking me all kind of pointed questions, they don’t really like me. Dad’s just as uncomfortable as I am. I’m struggling to find small talk and failing miserably. And for the first time in my life I wish I was with my family… and I hate my family.
This sucks. I’m only dating women who hate their families from now on.
I can’t be here, we aren’t to this level yet. I really could care less what her family thinks of me at this point. Can we just get back to the fun stuff? You were already winning out because of the “good girl” points, you were moving down to the city, and the sex was becoming increasingly better.
It’s not her fault, I know that. I’m not so clueless that I didn’t see her chasing. (I’m honestly not even worth a brisk jog.) But what I was looking for and what she was telling me was no where near what she was really thinking.
The awkwardness of that morning led to a fight the next day. My vacation weekend was spotted with calls or text messages accusing me of “not knowing what I want.” “I don’t get you.” “Why can’t you just let things happen?” I thought I was! That was my game plan for a while. Total disclosure. No leading-on. Nothing serious from day one… when I um… yeah… slept with another girl the night after. Damn. Well, ask a guy to be honest right?
So here I am. I went out this past weekend with this girl my sister-in-law set me up with and I got a message on my phone from Tami. The first in a week. “I’m sorry. What are you doing?” Guilt. I’m doing guilt now thank you very much. I was hoping to be doing something else in the next few hours but now I’m back to guilt.
Pretty weird huh? Before Thanksgiving 2007 I wasn’t guilty when I was out with someone else. I wasn’t lying to her. I was honest and up front about it. Now I kinda want to lie. I’m not going to; I can’t really do that sort of thing to women anymore. But see what the “good girls” are capable of? Freaking hypocrite.
A few weeks back I was so proud of myself. Oh boy, was I gleaming! I had decided to single out the “good girls.” The ones with “values.” The girls who “got it.” Well now I’m not getting it and I got nothing but my own preening to blame. I’ve lived a pretty fun life up until now, but I can honestly say that Thanksgiving 2007 will tend to stick out like something Fido left in the snow.
I had decided that I would stop disappointing this girl Tami. (Yeah she has been a steady and respectable back burner since we began this romp a few months back.) She has steadfastly chased me and I have continuously reminded her that I wasn’t looking for anything serious. She always answers “Oh God, I know. Me neither!” I believed her. Idiot.
She knew I was going out, seeing other women, and she tended to be fine with that. I assumed she was doing the same. Idiot. She didn’t live in the city yet, and we only saw each other every few weeks. But somehow along the way, her move to Atlanta was involving me a lot more that I figured it would. Don’t get me wrong. She was going to move here regardless. But I heard a lot more of, “Well I can’t wait until I get down there so we can (insert couple-like action).” Hmm… I’m not thinking about “us” this often. There isn’t really an “us” to think about.
How can I derail this thought process? Well, she’s finishing up grad school and there’s going to be a lot on her plate, so I tried deflective comments like “Well you’ll probably want to focus on looking for a job/apartment/life. January could be kinda hard for um… yeah… all that stuff.” (I’m not even sure what the hell that means. I’m just trying to intercept some dangerous conversation paths here.) Her answer is painfully simple. “Family.” She’ll be working for her family, staying with her family, and focused on helping her family’s business. Wow. That is really… family orientated of her. A “good girl,” a girl with “values,” and a girl who “gets it.” Is this an Asian thing? Because it’s definitely a scary thing.
And then she makes the move (figuratively and literally), and the whole “values” thing I was harping on the week before, firmly harpoons me in the ass. “Let’s have Thanksgiving Brunch with my folks.”
“Um… huh?”
“Nothing serious, not like dinner or anything. They just want to meet you. In and out, like an hour. It’s a Japanese thing.” (I’m getting flashes of like, Papa-san ninja-ing me in half for having “tainted his daughter.”) This is an impossible situation. And yeah, I’m screwed.
My Options as they came to me that faithful evening:
Response 1: “Um… that’s a little much isn’t it?”
Outcome 1: “Why do you always think this is more than what it is!? I understand the whole ‘not serious’ thing. I’m tired of hearing it.” And…. fight.
Response 2: “Um… I can’t, I’m with family that morning.”
Outcome 2: “But you hate your family.” And I’m lying… and she knows it…. and… guilt.
Response 3: “Um… That kind of family introduction thing isn’t something I really do.”
Outcome 3: “It’s something I have to do. They are already asking about this guy I’m spending time with when I’m in town. It’s important to me. Why can’t you just give them like an hour?” And…. I’m stuck.
So I’m having Thanksgiving Brunch with Tami’s family. Yeah, bombard me with the “shouldas” and the “couldas” now. Mom’s smiling a lot, but not saying much. The two sisters, both married with children, are going nonstop and asking me all kind of pointed questions, they don’t really like me. Dad’s just as uncomfortable as I am. I’m struggling to find small talk and failing miserably. And for the first time in my life I wish I was with my family… and I hate my family.
This sucks. I’m only dating women who hate their families from now on.
I can’t be here, we aren’t to this level yet. I really could care less what her family thinks of me at this point. Can we just get back to the fun stuff? You were already winning out because of the “good girl” points, you were moving down to the city, and the sex was becoming increasingly better.
It’s not her fault, I know that. I’m not so clueless that I didn’t see her chasing. (I’m honestly not even worth a brisk jog.) But what I was looking for and what she was telling me was no where near what she was really thinking.
The awkwardness of that morning led to a fight the next day. My vacation weekend was spotted with calls or text messages accusing me of “not knowing what I want.” “I don’t get you.” “Why can’t you just let things happen?” I thought I was! That was my game plan for a while. Total disclosure. No leading-on. Nothing serious from day one… when I um… yeah… slept with another girl the night after. Damn. Well, ask a guy to be honest right?
So here I am. I went out this past weekend with this girl my sister-in-law set me up with and I got a message on my phone from Tami. The first in a week. “I’m sorry. What are you doing?” Guilt. I’m doing guilt now thank you very much. I was hoping to be doing something else in the next few hours but now I’m back to guilt.
Pretty weird huh? Before Thanksgiving 2007 I wasn’t guilty when I was out with someone else. I wasn’t lying to her. I was honest and up front about it. Now I kinda want to lie. I’m not going to; I can’t really do that sort of thing to women anymore. But see what the “good girls” are capable of? Freaking hypocrite.
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