“The Boy” Situation, where do I begin without sounding too neurotic?
Eight years ago I met a guy online, we met, we hit it off, we got it on, well sort of. It was a bit intense, to say the least, within two weeks I moved in, or rather, I gradually left items of clothing at his house, I do not believe there was any memorial ceremony in which “The Boy” actually asked me to stay, it just felt comfortable.
Eight years later we are still comfortable, we broke up for six months but couldn’t be apart from each other. There has only been one continual problem throughout our relationship. Sex. We’ve cuddled we’ve done, things, however, subject to one thing or another; we haven’t actually got down to doing the nasty.
Now I know what you’re thinking, yes, you are probably right, how on earth have you spent eight years with someone without actually getting down to it.
One simple answer, he is not actually attracted to the female of the species when it comes to the bedroom department.
Call it what you will, call him what you will, I still love him, he still loves me. I think of us in terms of the great comedy duo’s: Laurel and Hardy, Morecambe and Wise, Bert and Ernie. The truth is we are companions, it suits us. He has his cover; I have the home of my dreams. The crunch comes, the on that tragic day, what happens if either one of us falls in love with someone else.
“The Boy” will be mentioned from time to time throughout the Blog, however, whatever he is; and he is many things, he is and will always remain a constant in my life. I do not judge him, his actions or his funny ways, I appreciate validate and am grateful for the impact he has made in my life.
If I could only find someone who could fill “The Boy’s” shoes and feed the desire which burns inside every thirtysomething’s girls knickers.
“The Boy” Situation
Sigh
x
Monday, 3 November 2008
A Memorable Night in a Cocktail Bar Part 3:
So that’s what happened was it? I did wonder, as I had my time taken up freezing my hiny off and listening to the droll of the guy leering across the bar at us. From my perspective the events, of that part of the evening, continued thus:
It was true, I did ask the leering guy over, but to be honest, he did deserve it. The man in question had spent most of the evening clocking us, smiling and circling the vicinity, much the same way a rotating vulture observes a lame mammal. His appearance was formal, stoutly, although I have to admit he carried it well and he maintained an air of assured self gratification, in a way to which you could not help find amusing.
I guess it was the stare that unnerved, not only my fellow companions but a young couple who were stood aside from him. By the time we had assumed our positions at the bar, his face, rouged from champagne, was almost at bursting point from anticipated pleasure. Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, his eyes remained half open. At this point he began to gently rock backwards and forwards like a child comforting itself with a security blanket.
The couple, stood to my left, were very uncomfortable in his presence. She caught my eye looked over at the leering man, looked down, then back at me. Her partner, becoming one of an increasingly anxious state, commented on said leering mans behaviour, as being one of a rather perverse creature. I nodded, smiled, then to the horror of all stood around me, challenged the leering gentleman, in quite an over confident manner, to sit by me. I actually believe the dialog of the command was more in the tone of:
GG1: Excuse me Honey, rather than standing around staring at us all evening, which of course you have been, why don’t come over here and chat to us.
(To which all Jaws, including that of the couple standing to my left, dropped to floor as if all characters in a Tex Avery Short.)
GG1: We are nice girls and happy to chat to you.
LM: Good evening ladies.
(He spoke with a feeling of great, often malicious, pleasure or self-satisfaction to which I can only liken to a Dickensian Beagle.)
LM: Could I offer your good selves a drink?
In as much as GG2 has relayed the evenings events from the slightly tipsy, moving rather rapidly to plastered angle, engaging the in the amusement of a cocktail waiter is not really my cup of tea. It is fair to say however, that I did, in fact ask for a pot of tea, of which, I was eternally grateful, if not just for the duration of the evening.
If only I were cold, that would have been tolerable, the effects of the air conditioning unit were increasingly chilling not only my skin, but the actual joints in my fingers began to ache. I did point out to the maitre d, on more than one occasion to turn the heating up. Being a gentleman he did take a turn to my side, explaining that if one was to sit underneath an air conditioning filter, one would experience a little discomfort, at sooner or later. Smug bastard, if I wanted to wear a fur coat I would have gone to the Ice Bar. However, I was in Harvey Nicks wine bar, I was sitting next to a gentleman who the others did not find appealing and he was, for all intense and purposes enlightening me on the delights of his occupation and previous existence. As you have to assume otherwise, I happen to have the concentration span of a gnat and spend far to long in my own universe than to one that I am suppose to share with the rest of the world.
GG1: I’m sorry?
LM: I said I find you very attractive, and I asked what brings you out this evening
I then inform the gentleman of the objective: Thursday night is Ladies Night, we make the most meeting gentlemen and engaging in their company, this coupled with inviting a few guys from some dating sites, makes for an interesting evening.
LM: So you are single?
Cringe!
GG1: No I am not, well, I mean to say I live with “The Boy”, but it is not your usual relationship.
LM: So you have an open relationship.
Relaying “The Boy” situation is not my favourite of occupations, the sooner it is out the open, the easier it is for me to relax and enjoy myself.*
It was true, I did ask the leering guy over, but to be honest, he did deserve it. The man in question had spent most of the evening clocking us, smiling and circling the vicinity, much the same way a rotating vulture observes a lame mammal. His appearance was formal, stoutly, although I have to admit he carried it well and he maintained an air of assured self gratification, in a way to which you could not help find amusing.
I guess it was the stare that unnerved, not only my fellow companions but a young couple who were stood aside from him. By the time we had assumed our positions at the bar, his face, rouged from champagne, was almost at bursting point from anticipated pleasure. Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, his eyes remained half open. At this point he began to gently rock backwards and forwards like a child comforting itself with a security blanket.
The couple, stood to my left, were very uncomfortable in his presence. She caught my eye looked over at the leering man, looked down, then back at me. Her partner, becoming one of an increasingly anxious state, commented on said leering mans behaviour, as being one of a rather perverse creature. I nodded, smiled, then to the horror of all stood around me, challenged the leering gentleman, in quite an over confident manner, to sit by me. I actually believe the dialog of the command was more in the tone of:
GG1: Excuse me Honey, rather than standing around staring at us all evening, which of course you have been, why don’t come over here and chat to us.
(To which all Jaws, including that of the couple standing to my left, dropped to floor as if all characters in a Tex Avery Short.)
GG1: We are nice girls and happy to chat to you.
LM: Good evening ladies.
(He spoke with a feeling of great, often malicious, pleasure or self-satisfaction to which I can only liken to a Dickensian Beagle.)
LM: Could I offer your good selves a drink?
In as much as GG2 has relayed the evenings events from the slightly tipsy, moving rather rapidly to plastered angle, engaging the in the amusement of a cocktail waiter is not really my cup of tea. It is fair to say however, that I did, in fact ask for a pot of tea, of which, I was eternally grateful, if not just for the duration of the evening.
If only I were cold, that would have been tolerable, the effects of the air conditioning unit were increasingly chilling not only my skin, but the actual joints in my fingers began to ache. I did point out to the maitre d, on more than one occasion to turn the heating up. Being a gentleman he did take a turn to my side, explaining that if one was to sit underneath an air conditioning filter, one would experience a little discomfort, at sooner or later. Smug bastard, if I wanted to wear a fur coat I would have gone to the Ice Bar. However, I was in Harvey Nicks wine bar, I was sitting next to a gentleman who the others did not find appealing and he was, for all intense and purposes enlightening me on the delights of his occupation and previous existence. As you have to assume otherwise, I happen to have the concentration span of a gnat and spend far to long in my own universe than to one that I am suppose to share with the rest of the world.
GG1: I’m sorry?
LM: I said I find you very attractive, and I asked what brings you out this evening
I then inform the gentleman of the objective: Thursday night is Ladies Night, we make the most meeting gentlemen and engaging in their company, this coupled with inviting a few guys from some dating sites, makes for an interesting evening.
LM: So you are single?
Cringe!
GG1: No I am not, well, I mean to say I live with “The Boy”, but it is not your usual relationship.
LM: So you have an open relationship.
Relaying “The Boy” situation is not my favourite of occupations, the sooner it is out the open, the easier it is for me to relax and enjoy myself.*
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