the sign (lisa pt.2)

As you may recall, I hooked up with Lisa a very long time after we first met and exchanged saliva and digits. Three weeks later, it looked like a repeat performance was in the cards.

Not quite.

In a déja vu of our previous encounter she once again leaves the bar with me, but en route to my place the alcohol really kicks in and she immediately turns from tipsy to shitfaced without warning. At this point she was useless to me, sexually speaking, so I give up on my hopes for a carnal rendezvous, bring her back to my place and once we get home, take off her shoes and put Lisa to bed fully clothed.

Hours later I wake up and sidling up against her I notice her dress is wet. What the...And then it hits me: yes, Lisa has peed all over herself in her sleep. Fuck.

Disgusted and annoyed, I grab a blanket from the closet and proceed to crash on my living room couch. I wake up at almost 10:30 AM, which is an hour before Lisa has to be at work. I wake her up, she makes some phone calls--including one that, for whatever reason, requires that she lock herself in my bathroom--says goodbye, and leaves.

No apology. Nothing.

YOU JUST PEED ALL OVER MY BED, DAMN IT! WTF?!

A full-on cleanup mission consisting of mattresss airing/turning over and industrial amounts of Febreze is undertaken. Ah, this was obviously not Lionel Ritchie's idea of a Sunday morning.

Maybe this is a sign that I need to put my days of random fucking behind me. It's the clearest one I've gotten so far.

it takes two

While I will readily admit that it’s petty and childish, I can’t help but rejoice when a woman who has blown me off finds herself on the business end of a worse refutation. Ah, it does the heart good if only momentarily. But I'll take it, nonetheless. Here are two particular instances I’d like to share with you:

After enjoying a few casual encounters at my neighborhood bar, I thought we'd hit it off and asked Raquel out. But not only did she gave me the old “I’ll see you when I see you” response to my date query, she additionally mentioned how she was quite particular about who she went out with. Really? Since I considered her not be “all that”, as the kids used to say, I moved on and left it at that.

But one night, while I was out drinking with my buddy Michael, she came over and joined us. Raquel wasted no time in letting it be known how interested she was in hooking up with him, and made her move. To break the ice and further ingratiate herself with Michael she suggested the three of us take a picture in the bar’s photo booth. When Michael promptly shot down the idea, she recoiled and nixed the whole thing right then and there, without even offering to go in the booth with yours truly and save face, leaving her rebuffed intentions clearly out in the open. I was a bit miffed but my displeasure would not last.

When Andy the bartender eventually closed up shop for the night only the four of us remained. Outside, waiting for respective cabs, Raquel offered the by now legless Michael a ride home. “That’s all right”, he replied, heavily slurring his words. “I’ll take the bus.”

That Raquel couldn’t get Michael to go home with her, despite his highly intoxicated state was a small victory for me that night.

+ + + + +

“You must think I’m a bitch for never getting back to you,” Annie says, while temporarily taking a seat next to me at the bar and waiting to be served.

“No, I just figured you weren’t interested in going out on a date with me, that’s all.”

“OK, then. I'm sorry, though.”

"Yeah, whatever," I mutter to myself.

She gets her drink and goes back to the table of co-workers with whom she’s been barhopping all night. I later find out Annie’s had her eye on one of them and in a clear territory-marking move had brazenly sat on the guy’s lap at a previous bar. The dude has given her some of his attention, but there's another cute chick amongst them who seems like she will not be denied. Hmm...

As the night is coming to an end, I notice the co-worker in question and the other cute girl in their party have been MIA for quite a while. Annie has been fidgeting nervously and right after last call, when the music has been turned off, the lights are turned all the way up and the bartender is requesting that everyone leave, the missing couple are still nowhere to be found. Not wanting to leave without either one of them, the rest of the group is just standing there uncomfortably, wondering where the two have gone. Annie is visibly mortified.

After what seems like an interminable wait, the pair in question sheepishly reappear, to the combined relief and annoyance of everyone present, who at this point have been made quite aware, both by their prolonged absence and disheveled appearance, that the two had been hooking up in one of the bar’s bathrooms. As coats are collected and goodbyes are exchanged I glance over to see Annie, embarrassed and humiliated, file out with the rest of her party. It sure made my night. Sweet!

so cruel (in a biblical way)

Regardless of whether you believe the Genesis story of Adam and Eve is allegory, fact, or fiction, we can all admit to the effectiveness of its establishing the 'woman as evil temptress' motif. I was recently reminded of an incident from a few years back that confirms how this theme continues to manifest itself to this day.

Now, let me ask, what do you do when your buddy’s sexy lady friend openly flirts with you and makes a habit of stopping by your place, unannounced, cigarettes and bottle of wine in tow? You do the right thing and brush it off and go on your way, is what.

But.

What if you know he’s been cheating on her; that he’s been looking for a way out of the relationship; that you may be buddies but he's not a close friend? Did I mention she’s sweet, affectionate, incredibly sexy and just your type? What about it then?

Once again, you do the right thing and brush it off and go on your way.

But.

Oh, man. Why?!

Matthew 26:41: Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.

So true. So cruel.

sledgehammer

Talk about late bloomer: it wasn't until my mid-30s that I understood what "Show me 'round your fruit cage / and I will be your honey bee" really meant. Loser. I've made up for it, sure. And so, tonight, with Peter Gabriel's classic tune burrowing through my consciousness, I contemplated going out for the specific purpose of getting laid and honoring the spirit of this particular song. But, for no reason I could put my finger on, I calmly rethought things and decided to stay in, despite the nagging impulses of my raging libido. Didn't pick up the phone and make any ill-advised calls, either, although thoughts of a nice little romp with certain toxic avengers of the female persuasion still dance in my head...

Dunno if I should be proud of myself, but it's something, right?

Anyway...