My weekend featured a rather strange series of events with a few twists. First I will begin in my therapists office. There I am with Lilith and we have come to the conclusion that because I can no longer contact Zoe (my most recent significant ex) I cannot gain closure. Therefore I still harbour some unresolved issues that are hindering my progression. She notes that I have a changed demeanour since she met me (when I was still with Zoe). That my habits have changed and that I seem less focused. I admit that this is true, that I suppose without someone else in my life, someone else to look out for I have no reason to work on me. If it’s just me on my own I can ride whatever wave of debauchery or destruction suits me. She suggests that maybe for my own sake that I write (maybe even here in my blog, which I will in fact do next) a letter of closure addressed to Zoe, get it all off of my chest. Say all the things that I wanted to say that were left unsaid. I like this idea so I am going to do it, of course. Though, speak the devils name and she shall appear. I have not encountered nor caught the faintest glimpse of this woman in several months in the tiny, shitty community to which we are inured.
I have my standard Friday Karaoke only this night I have assisted a female colleague, who is nearly a decade my junior and quite pretty, to dress as a woman. You see, she has a bad habit of dressing as though she is a teenage male nerd. She “doesn’t know how to girl” as she puts it. Of all the people she could go to to solve this issue, she came to me and I feel quite touched and proud that she trusts my taste. We go shopping and I make some suggestions (including really sexy Calvin Klein formal evening heels that were on sale for super cheap) until she eventually begins selecting clothing that I approve of. She dresses herself for the evening entirely in items that she selected (with my approval) proving that she can in fact “girl” with a little light guidance. There is a birthday party taking place at our regular watering hole for one of our co-workers hence the requirement to put in the effort. We arrive earlier than we normally would in order to make well-wishes to the birthday boy. There are drinks and mostly good times, the ladies in attendance are astounded by my colleagues newfound feminine appearance and quite impressed with her taste. I receive some credit but feel it important to point out that she chose the entire outfit with the exception of accessories. She is actually the best dressed woman in the group. I am proud.
There is a small amount of drama surrounding the posting of pictures to facebook that I rise above because frankly I have better things to do and women to sleep with this very night. When I am done with the birthday party and Karaoke I round up some of my young male hang-abouts and we head to the one local dance pit. I am admittedly a tad sliced, someone else pays my cover and gets my first drink. Young males tend to like Jack McBastard when he is let off the leash. Tonight Jack is being genial because I think he knows that we have similar goals. I get to the dancefloor and spot you-guessed-it Zoe. I take a few steps toward her to let her know I want nothing to do with her, I’m here to get laid and could care less about her. You do you, I’ll do me. However… as I take a few steps, like a childish twat, she and her bimbo friend go scurrying, and I mean scurrying as though they had planned this manoeuvre, behind the nearest bouncer who watches over the dancefloor. In my state I think to myself: “Oh shit… this psycho bitch is going to get me kicked out.” Keep in mind that I have never done the slightest thing against this woman (I admit I shouted at her a few times, though it was in extreme cases and I am in fact bipolar, no excuse, I know). Keep in mind that when she texted me to threaten me with police action for completely inexplicable reasons if I texted her again, to which I agreed, she took THAT as a reason to call the police on me… The woman is entirely unstable and I’m not sure that she should be responsible for children.
There I am worried that she is telling the bouncer that I am a stalker or worse, so I decide to just go face the music. Better to get it out of the way rather than be jerked off the dancefloor by your neck. I approach the bouncer and express that this whole thing is dramatics, that I am no threat to anyone and that she is being completely silly. Oddly enough, though he does not look friendly nor pleased he simply tells me to go mind my business and have nothing to do with her. To this I am in full agreement, probably to his surprise. So I continue on my business, though it doesn’t end here… I dance with the intent of finding a woman. I find a few and they find me, however everytime I get even close to Zoe’s half of the dancefloor she and her friend once again scurry behind the bouncer. Which I catch only in passing out of the corner of my eye and only because he is on a raised platform. Each time this happens and I manage to see it I think there is easily expressed on my face a look that states “are you fucking kidding me?!” Because I genuinely do not care. I am getting attention and giving it to women who are more than a decade younger than me. Ultimately it is a pair of these that I settle on.
Cousins. I like the taller one and I think the shorter one knows this the moment I dance up as she pushes my pelvis right into her cousins hips. Bingo, too easy. After dancing with them for a few songs the tall one goes to the restroom and the shorter one takes a table just off the dancefloor. I take this opportunity to go get a drink. Upon my return I find them sitting at the table with a bald man standing there with them, his back to me. I walk up to the tall one with whom I haven’t yet exchanged a single word, throw my arm around her look at her and say something to the effect of: “Hey sweetie who’s this guy?”
The bald man grabs his drink off the table and darts into the crowd without a word. The girls thank me profusely but then the tall one asks me what if she was interested in that guy? I answer instantly: “Oh that’s easy, he was competition and he disappeared into the crowd so fast you’ll never find him again. I win.”
She admits that this is pretty clever but reassures me that she is way more interested in me. At some point between getting drinks and cigarette breaks I have a chance to talk to the cousin and she tells me that she was trying to find the tall one a cute guy and I say to her that she isn’t going to find anyone more attractive than me. I guess she must have agreed because I take the tall one home no more than thirty minutes later. She’s twenty two, I have more than a bakers dozen years on her.
I wake up next to Delilah and ask her what she’s doing for the rest of the day. She tells me that at some point she needs to do laundry but other than that nothing. I ask her if she wants to take a trip to the big city to pick up my new Hugo Boss suit that is finished being fitted. She thinks that sounds like fun and off we go. It’s a good day, we have lunch in a well-known, slightly upscale pub downtown (my treat). The food is phenomenal. We just enjoy the ride in the car together, the music, the company. When we return to my place we spend more time between the sheets before I take her home so she can get her laundry done. I use the term “home” loosely here because it’s actually her cousins as she is currently residing in the big city that we had just visited for work, though she is originally from the area local to me. Before I drop her off we make plans for that night.
I pick her up around eight thirty and I take her to a restaurant that I only just recently discovered. As I walk in the front door I recognize a voice resonating from a large table of around ten women in the middle of the main room just off the entrance. I see a woman I recognize named Gwen who is not speaking that happens to be best friends with you-guessed-it Zoe. I step past a column that was blocking my view and sure enough there she is with her back to me, easily identified by the large, half-sleeve shoulder to elbow, floral tattoo. I utter an actual ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me…’ out loud before I grab Delilah’s arm and turn her around quickly explaining. As I glance back past the column I see Gwen interrupting Zoe’s diatribe with what is obviously: ‘Dysphorian is here’.
I take Delilah to another restaurant where I know the owners husband as he is a co-worker of mine. A fabulous place that specializes in a particular french cuisine in a cozy little romantic bistro setting. After a marvellous meal we retire to my place where we yet again spend the night in one another’s arms naked and carefree. The next morning I return her to her sister this time who is moody that she didn’t tell her where she was nor that she was early enough as she likes to return to the big city early on Sundays. We have the intention of seeing each other again from here going forward, she is genuinely very interested in me and very turned on by me. You know, right now maybe that’s all I need. We haven’t defined this, I don’t think we will either. She’s young and she will likely move on before long but if she doesn’t that is totally fine too. I’m not sure I need the closure at this point but I am going to write it just to get it out of my mind.