The women i dream of, when dreams are all there is...
The following installment is a testament to the truism that there are two kinds of people in the world - those who get laid, and those who DON'T drink.
JO
A local waitress. The first time we met was beautifully non-visual. I was waiting while another employee processed my bill. She was above me on the stairs, and her hand laid against mine on the railing for a few seconds. We didn't even look at each other, but the energy was palpable. A few minutes later, after i was already halfway out the door, she said goodbye from ten feet away (though she hadn't even been my server). Our long eye contact was one of the most startlingly naked human moments i've had in a while. It felt like she was looking right into my spirit. On subsequent visits, we've talked about that and much else - she even sits at my table to chat. When i found out she's a single mother, my attitude changed. Something about shoplifting the pootie...which is probably as frustrating for single mothers as it is for well-intentioned blokes, as i'm sure not every single single mother is on 24-hour daddy lookout. Yet my caution is understandable. Plus, even though she's probably slowed down since the old days when her team came in 3rd in the national college beer pong championships (truth), our social leisure habits may not be strongly compatible.
TAM
A neighbor who gives me a nice hello when she walks her dog. That she likes me is evident. That she'd like to pluck me like a fruit on the vine seems also obvious, says my housemate. She's got a "stacked" figure and a sexuality near the surface, which is nice. She's also a millionaire, which i'd almost rather she weren't. My housemates joke about me sexing my way up Easy Street, but money poisons honesty. I'm not powerfully attracted...she smokes, wears heels, presumably drinks, perhaps flaunts her wealth, and i wouldn't be stunned to find out she didn't come by her figure naturally (she came by her money through lottery, which tells you enough about our personality difference). She's also married, which doesn't bother me ethically, except (see final entry). Despite all that, there's a spark of animal lust, and when you're experiencing the deleterious health effects of not having had sex for a year, it can be hard to maintain healthy objectivity. As a sign of how raw and dehumanized i feel, my chief idea for initiating something involves telling a lie - that i had a dream about her. It just seems the most expeditious method. I haven't used ANY form of deception in the pursuit of love or sex in uncounted years. Not unrelatedly, see the aforementioned note on how long it's been since i've actually had sex.
AJA
She works at a local store, and we've been friendly for much of the past year. We always chat, and she'll give me a playful nudge when she's not working checkout. She's got a peaceful, gentle energy that's appealing - being her lover might be (relatively, of course) uncomplicated. She's non-caucasian, which is a plus in any attraction book penned by me. I feel like i haven't been the friend to her i'm supposed to be...on one occasion, we passed each other at a distance on bike, and i know she was confused as to why i didn't come over. What's tripping me up is physical attraction - she's fat. A part of me feels she represents a spiritual hurdle i'm supposed to leap across...to give her the love she needs, free of the shackles of visual nonsense. I know i can love a woman a bit overweight and have it be a non-issue...but in this case, it's a good deal more than a bit. Nor is my hesitation just shallowness...it's also about the stunning baggage this society heaps upon sex. The burden of expectation we load onto our partners is so profound it would stagger an ox. Under such conditions (possessiveness, jealousy, "are YOU the one?"), only a masochist would become involved with anyone they're not, well, staggeringly attracted to. Actually, only a masochist would become involved with anyone at all.
SOON MI
She works at a restaurant i frequent. She's asian, and that alone is almost enough to make me throw ANY caution to the wind - i am long past tired of the almost-consummated asian loves i've had. She has a lovely family (husband included). I've had wonderful interactions with her children. Her accent is strong and her english needs work, but she's smart and funny...and for the better part of a year, there have been little moments between us...hand-brushing contacts, sorta-clumsy words almost revealing our desire. She's a bit out of shape, but i would tear her up (metaphorically, that is). The ethical conflict is keen...the "do no damage" imperative i've always lived by, doing battle with the social revolutionary. Marital monogamy is one of our greatest social ills, and a part of me wants to finally step over that line with blazing intent and beauty. And yet, and yet, and yet...no damage no damage no damage whispers in my brain...hm, maybe she and her husband have an "evolved" relationship?
On how many levels would this life be easier if i drank? Throw a little mutual inebriation into the mix, and would one (or more) of these women already be loving me?
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