"I believe in sex and death... but at least after death you don't get that nauseous feeling."-Woody Allen Sleeper
I'm exhausted. Went out last night with the computer lab crowd. Again, a very odd situation. To be out with former students (none of mine), but still they are aware that I am a teacher, and there is always the risk of rumors being spread. I'm a terribly nervous and anxious mood today. I'm not sure why. But I will tell you about last night.
I went out with the boys, because it was all boys and myself. This is how it has always been. When I was child I was always the only girl at the birthday party. There would be all these boys and me. And now twenty years later it's the same thing. So I'm out with the boys and it was fun. (Boy could I get less descriptive than that? Or in the words of Brad Pitt "Could the freak be any more vague?") But they got me all wound up. They were playing this game called never ever. You go around in a circle and each person says something that they have never ever done ie I have never ever had sex with a rabbit. Of course, the idea, is to "get to know" your friends very well and to get everyone else drunk. So we are playing never ever, and the game starts off sexual. I mean, most of the time there is usually a "warm up round" or two where its safe statements like "I never ever sput in someone's drink." But no the first person to go says "I have never ever tasted my own come." I mean, going for the gold big time. So we do one round (surprisingly I managed to only get "hit" twice-on what I won't say). ( I will reveal that one of the things I had "never ever" done was get walked in on while having sex-the best part was that another person valunteered at the table that he hadn't been walked in on, but he had walked out during sex once. Now that's BAD sex.) So I'm all wound up, and the way these guys were talking this was going to be an allnight bender-unfortunately, it ended at twelve (after starting at nine) which to me is like a tuesday night (althought his tuesday night I was out until 4:30 in the morning-so this was sad even by tuesday night standards). So we are going home on the train and I'm like screw it, I'm all awake I'm going to fitzpatrick's. So I walk in and of course I have the floor as the only available girl in the bar. So first I'm getting hit on by crazy drunken Mike. Crazy drunken Mike is a fixture at Fitzies. He's becoming more of a feature with every passing day. Mike is ok when he's sober, which is about two minutes every day. He is, however, a crazy drunk. He's hit on me many times drunk and yet he never seems to remember this or that I always say no. He is also a maudlin drunk. Lately he has been coming in and getting trashed and saying that his firm is about to let him go (which I've been hearing for a month now). Am I surprised that they are letting him go (assuming its true)? Not in the least. I'm amazed this guy lasted as long as he did cleaning ashtrays, never mind being a stock trader (or something like that). Last time I saw Mike he ended up crawling around under the bar looking for a bag he didn't even bring. So MIke sits down next to me, and to escape I run to the other end of the bar to hang out with Angelo and Justin, people I wouldn't join, but in the considering the circumstances they understood. So while I'm talking I see this guy who last year, we sat and talked for like two hours. He is married, but it's apparently some kind of open arrangement. Anyway he asked me to go and see this performance art piece with him on his birthday (not just me you understand, a group type thingy) so I said yes and then the day of he called and cancelled (not surpising) and then never called again. I have seen him on occassion and he waved but makes no effort to talk. So then I see him staring at me, I mean like a burning smoldering stare, a stare that aspires to peel paint and rip clothes and inflame the loins. (It failed. It didn't even chip my fingernail polish.) So he comes over and he is all over me. And I'm like "Hey, hey, there. First of all you are married. And like second did we forget that whole not calling thing?" Was it with men that they think like five seconds of attention is going to erase rejection. I mean, doesn't buy me a drink. He just rolls up on me and expects me to, well, sleep with him. So he is like "i'd like to buy you a drink later, I'm with my friends right now." And being me I'm like OK fine. So I notice that Mike the crazy drunk is gone.So I decide to go back to my original spot. (Ok there was an attractive kind of a heavy david duchovny looking guy at the other end of the bar who had been looking at me when I was being hit on by crazy drunken Mike.) So I go back and David Duchovny guy starts talking to me. His name, and please prepare yourself for this, is Damien. Yes, I have now bagged my first anti-christ. (Actually, Damien is the name of a saint who tended lepers in Hawaii. How do I know this? HBO. That's right better larning through cable.) So he starts to talk to me. And of course, he asks me what I do and I tell him, and yet again I still get the "Oh I'm afraid to talk to you." I'm still the same girl I was five minutes ago, but all of the sudden now I'm intimidating. So sure enough he has a girlfriend with whom he is in the "process of breaking up" with his girlfriend. (I have that effect on some relationships, apparently.) So he is "tormented". He is one of those guys who wants me to seduce him, who wants me to say "I want you. I want you no matter the cost.If it's only for a night, that's ok" Which I am not going to do. So he kept staying and staying and staying. Finally he left. So hung out with my irish cop friend and patrick. It was fun. Butwhy is it all these involved men just want me for sex? Do they really think I have such a hard time finding it?