"An autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying....."
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Close But No Cigar
Headed out with a veritable roundtable gallery of rogues.
My usual wingman, we'll call Benny, a long-time coterie member we'll call Warden, and a 3rd guy we'll call the colleague.
I rolled up first b/c I like some time to acquaint myself downtown and get my fingers on the pulse of the night's vibe. My bartender buddy waved me in. A cougar had been ogling me. She quickly tried to discern my age. Given my choice of hobbies it's proof of my skills that women tend to underestimate my age. She was a cougar par excellence. Tried and true, no rock and from the vibe hadn't been married in awhile. The cougar has a slightly stuck up ( as it would turn out not nearly cute enough to match her ego as per her age....some chicks think having an accent is like 5 million hot points). At any rate, I was polite, as my bartender buddy was gaming the friend and I was placating the cougar who was not of interest to me. She remarked that my face was flawless. Yeah. I almost laughed. I wasn't going to be the one to make her feel young tonight.
Benny rolled up, and I handed off the ball as this bird was not getting diznick from yours truly. I wasn't sure Ward and the colleague would roll up, b/c he's flighty like that from time to time.
I glance over and they had appeared. I shifted my focus from taking part in playful jokery and mother gooseries with Benny and the cougar to chat with my buddies. My mentor had also appeared from nowhere in stiletto heels a short dress and fake tits.
SO, Ward, colleague, mentor and myself chatted it up. I saw Ward say a few words to the cougar's friend but thought nothing of it. As the group moved, I returned to the bar and the cougar's friend says: "You should be careful around your friend?" Nonplussed and wanly, I asked, "Why is that?" "He said he was 'sorry, [he] couldn't make out with me b/c [he's] getting over a cold."
Deadpan, I remark:" I'm sure he was kidding. It's not that serious." I had to play it lowkey and not atomic blast the slag b/c my bartender buddy was gaming her. The cougar decides to throw in her 2 cents from the peanut gallery with:"Yeah, you need to watch your friend" as the friend then goes with the classic bitch line of, "Yeah, I'm offended." I turn to both of them and in direct line of sight and even tone say, "It's not that fucking serious. He was kidding. If you can't handle it, then that's too bad. Be easy."
I turned and walked away to close my tab. The colleague was going on and on about this newly divorced girl he's been banging since before she was divorced....and how now that she's saying she's free she's blowing him off. Le FUCKING sigh. My buddy Warden and I did our best to give him a crash course in "manning the fuck up" and "scarcity". My mentor chipped in her 2 cents which is more like a million dollars worth a' knowledge. The colleague was listening but not hearing/understanding. You can show someone the door but they gotta walk through it themselves.
My buddy, Benny ended up banging the cougar. Shocker. --
As it was 2 Brasilierinhas were chatting up Warden and the colleague. I sat and saw the writing on the wall. I saw the binary code. The colleague was going to blow his natural head above the competition by speaking Portuguese and spanish and hailing from the neighboring ***** down south.
I could sleep in my car or grab some diner food and watch the inevitable implosion. I was just hoping Warden's pull wouldn't get sucked in after the backdraft hits.
Being right so much gets to be predictable and irritating. --
I watched as the colleague brought up the divorcee in conversation. I shook my head. He was literally choosing to devalue himself. He was going on and on about his feelings. I ate my diner food but appreciated a visual re-affirmation of some key principles.
Respect yourself and others will follow or hit the bricks. Talking about the past is for losers. Talking about women from your past or the current is for serious losers. The distance between a penis and inside a vagina can be millions of miles even if in actuality it is only several inches and some fabric.
As it was, we later stood amidst a crowded club. The dance floor throbbed and pulsed. I was nonplussed. A cute blonde had flagged me down earlier but I was losing steam. Some waif thin exoticas strolled nearby but the Kate Moss/Twiggy body does not elicit a response from your humble narrator.
A black chick with a mohawk flagged me down but I lithely disappeared into the crowd. A squat(ter) than her friends Latina flagged me down with a request to dance. Even if I was looking I'd not be seen dancing with a chubster. Ran into some kids from the gym who asked when I'd be fighting next. Wish I knew folks. --
I then watched the same guy pull the same implosion the 2nd night in a row.
Unbelievable. Yet...so predictable.
Might be pickin' up some side work in the social scene. Good luck and happy hunting my faithful readership. Be who and what you are and beholden to none but yourself those of your choosing and worth. -With Greatest Affection