"An autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying....."
Friday, March 12, 2010
My Kind of Night
Soundtrack: Alternative Soundtrack: Strolled downtown to a favorite haunt. A ****** I know that wants my diznick flirted in furtive fashion and my eyes roved over her body, but alas, she is not my type. A curvaceous girl I was to meet bailed early b/c she "didn't want to be out by herself until" I showed up.
Peace be upon you. Good tidings and all that bullshit. Strangers in the night and other trite statements.
Rolled into a couple other favorite haunts, met up with my mentor. We headed into the night in search of young blood. **** had the thirst and I was game as is nearly always the case. I hadn't found what I've been seeking in awhile. I wasn't looking. This is key. I stood amidst the rabble and the proles and the young blood. You happened by my way. We made eye contact. I did not look away. This is the moment I have dubbed, "game recognizes game". A moment frozen in time when eyes meet and neither side can deny the chemistry....neither side wants to deny the chemistry....for all the sifting, all the passing time....all the finding NOT what you are looking for is finally validated. You leaned in and whispered to your friend. She conspicuously looked directly at me and nodded. My eyes fell upon the entire scene.
I reached for your arm, above the elbow; my patented grab n' pull maneuver honed to a fine art for when I see what I want. You didn't resist. They never do. Your eyes fell to my hand as it pulled you to me but there was acceptance in every fiber of your being. Pretty face. Dark hair. Nice smile. The dark passenger licked its lips.
"How are you?" "Hey." "*bullshit that doesn't matter*" "Want to dance?" "Sure." "Lead the way."
Your fingers laced between mine and we made way through the rabble. You backed it up on me as my hands rested on your hips. Ah, college style dancing. How I had not missed thee. Some young guy tried to lure you away. Fail.
We danced awhile longer and I devised a test. I went to the bathroom and you dutifully waited outside in place. The same young guy tried to spit some game in your ear. Fail. I smiled and watched the young cub attempt to claw the prey. Fail. Your hand came up and rested on my neck and mine rested on the back of yours. We stood face to face. Inches apart. Warm bodies amidst the throng of young people. I leaned in for the kiss. Your brain told you conflicting stories. Your mind said "no", your body clamored for "more". This was not to be the last kiss of the night.
I didn't think of the woman I have plans to meet the following night. I didn't think of the girl who bailed. I didn't think of the girl from ***** I have plans to meet this weekend....all of that was vapor in the mind's eye. I did something I don't do. I asked for your number. You asked if I would actually call. She has been let down before she confided. I affirmed to her that I would cal her. We kissed again. She put her full name into my phone. We kissed again. I walked her to the front. She wanted her friends to see the guy she had pulled. I smiled and we bid adieu. I made it halfway back to my beer....saw some buddies from the gym....and realized there was nothing left to be conquered this night. I always seem to draw my share of sweet birds. I escaped into the darkness and made way to my bed for deep, well-earned, catatonic rest with no dreams.
Plans with *****. Plans with **** girl. Young girl is now in the mix. ***** girl I slept with a few weeks ago is blowin' up my phone. C'est la vie.
I can feel the fingers between mine. The taste of young lips. This is before the tears. Before the hurt. Before the reality. The canvas is bare and blank, but that is best. The paint has not chipped. The paint has not faded. It has not been covered with willing naivete and conscious, deliberate avoidance of fact. Broken wings for broken birds.....red flags and late, long nights of tempting fate.
-the love is back, Alkiabiades.... -With Greatest Affection