So what’s the deal with this women’s lib thing I wonder? I always considered myself to be one of those old fashioned, 'man open door' type chicks until I found myself single, in a city where sex is free flowing, and nobody expects anything in return. You go out, hook up and meet the next day as though nothing happened. That phenomenon has always scared me a tad. I can’t say I haven’t done it. I’m just saying I can’t do it anymore. Maybe it’s my heart that’s kicking in? Maybe my head’s fading? Or maybe I just don’t live in denial anymore? Who knows? But the fact is I now suffer huge heartburns when I hook up with someone I know and am friends with. I know, because yes, I caved and tried to blend in and no, it didn't do the trick. I’m not saying all sex is meaningful I’m sure I can still go out and find anonymous sex if I was looking for it. But I’m not anymore. Because I do believe that sex with another person should lead to something more endearing, otherwise I would just invest in a collection of sex toys instead. So yes, even if it’s just great conversation, a guy who makes you laugh hysterically, or someone who’s hug will lift the weight of the world off your shoulders…there has to be that added extra. The only problem is, once you have that added extra you automatically have emotions attached to it. It’s something you don’t want to get rid off and hold onto for as long as it makes you happy.
So I decided, that since all the pricks I knew were only interested in the newly painted sign on my forehead that read ‘single and available for one night only’ (which I hadn’t noticed of course) were going to get nowhere with me, I finally made the bold move of asking a guy on a date. He’s the sweet, nice, ‘good on paper’ kind of guy, who’s untapped potential had recently set my emotions on fire. At first there was this whole confusion, because his film had just released and he was fretting with every drop in box office figures. And so our date was postponed, indefinitely. I thought it was nerves and being in such a precarious situation, he was allowed them. He then postponed our date further by informing me he was leaving town to get his mojo back. Again, I excused him. Four days after he returned, he messaged to say he was back and asked when we were doing dinner. We fixed dinner for the next night at my favourite restaurant in town. He picked me up, I paid for dinner. Our date ran five hours long…and I thought we had a pretty good time. Good time enough for second date potential. He dropped me home and after accusing me of almost breaking his car door, he promised to take me out in return. It sounded like a promising end to our first date. And then he snapped his fingers and vanished into thin air. No ‘thank you’ message or ‘wassup’ message. Zip! Zero!...ummm…Nothing!
Three days later, I get a text saying “ I think I’ve become a 24 zombie” referring to his recent addiction to the popular televesion series. Then he somehow managed to invite me and my nearest buds to a 9 course meal at his restaurant in a neighbouring city. So we arrived, along with his mother, sister, friends…et al. It was a fabulous meal, and the whole experience of driving out of town for a meal was even more exciting. We came back knackered, and most of our company smashed beyond motor skill coordination.
The next day, he broke his agenda down very precisely for me… his head hurt, he intended on watching 24, attending his grandmother’s birthday in the evening and then going to the gym at some point in between it all. After which, he proceeded to ask me out for a movie the next day. I unfortunately passed out for the next 5 hours and only replied later on, by which time he had already made a plan to watch the movie of my choice with someone else on another day, but said we could watch another movie. I agreed.
The fated day of our movie date came along and he first asked if we could just meet for coffee as he wasn’t feeling up to doing a movie which later led to a complete cancellation of our plans on the account of his coming down with the flu. So in my empathic state, I asked him the next day if he was feeling any better? His response was that he felt slightly better. So I advised him to pop the vitamin c and wished him a speedy recovery to which I got the monosyllabic ‘ya’ in reply. That was it. I had checked all my boxes off and he had failed. In truth, I just couldn’t deal with the practicality of it all…the death of romance was not something I was willing to deal with, at least not at this phase.
So now I’m led to think this poor guy has either been hurt real bad or he’s just not interested. But mostly I’m just thinking…what a waste of an effort! And So much for women’s lib! I got onto to the net today and his status update read ‘It begins with a glimpse or a passing thought and it ends in heartbreak’. I’m all out of tricks with him now and back to waiting for my knight in shining armor. Yes he does exist! And he will come knocking on my door. Won’t he?