Tuesday, July 21, 2009
I had a good talk with Gay Miguel about my propensity lately to acquire more gal pals who I have a non-physical friendship with versus the "let's have fun and then let's bang" friendship I've been hoping to find. He had a laugh-yell conversation with me because he is also aware that I've dumped a bunch of friends (75% women) in recent months due to the fact that they never would come up with fun things to do or even take the time to contact me first with a casual hello. Some of you readers yelled at me thinking I dumped these friends because we weren't banging, but the truth is that I hate one-sided friendships; it wasn't over sex.
Last week I made plans to see a semi-famous galpal who lives in LA. She was planning on flying to Chicago to see the Sane, but she had to skip her first flight and reschedule. When she told me she had to skip the second flight, I told her not to worry about it. We'd meet again soon when I was out there.
Sadly, I was in the mood for some food and maybe a drink, but I had already passed on plans with other friends. Google Chat to the rescue as AFCB#2 found herself free on that very same night, mere hours before it was dinner time. We made plans to meet in her neck of the woods, to try a restaurant neither of us had tried before.
We made plans for me to pick her up and we'd drive together instead of her facing the 15 minute walk to the restaurant. Earlier in the afternoon, I helped her out with an errand that she was planning to handle on her own, but the rain was coming so she ended up taking my offer to give her a ride and save not just time, but her clothes from a possible downpour that never happened.
I arrived at her apartment, on time as usual. She took care of a few things and then came out, looking hot and happy as usual. I'm a superficial person more often than not, and I see nothing wrong with having gal pals who I admire for their friendship but can still catch a glance of their ass shaking as they walk away. I'm a man, and I think one of our finest abilities is to admire sexiness.
Sidenote: Whenever I see her again for the first time, I always flash back to a very good friend of mine from my high school years. Her face and body are not similar at all, but something about he vibe takes me back almost 2 decades. I can't put a finger on it, but there is something there that keeps me thinking to my past.
We drove from her place the mile or less to the restaurant, looking for parking. None was on the main street, but a quick right turn onto a side street and we found a place to park my behemoth of a vehicle. We walked to the restaurant down the middle of the street, uncertain which direction it was.
We entered the quaint and tiny Tex-Mex restaurant, impressed with its cleanliness and overall good vibe.
The restaurant wasn't busy on this weekday, with a single waiter taking care of all the tables as best as he could. He had an interesting and memorable name, which usually helps me to remember to return to a restaurant if the service and food is good.
I ordered a glass of wine, wanting a little alcohol to bring me to my senses after a long day of doing really nothing important. #2 had her own day of stress and work responsibility, and she ordered a margarita off the restaurants healthy and hefty list of Mexican-focused drinks. We perused the menu, both excited at two pork options, as well as the variety of other Tex-Mex fusion foods that made our mouths water. We ordered the pulled pork nachos to share, making me think deep about how this is one gal who can actually get me to eat starchy foods.
Our drinks came and we clinked glasses, diving into our usual/unusual banter about life. She's a fun conversationalist, very set in her ways but also hilarious, vulgar and even responsible. It's always a pleasure to talk to her, lock eyes with her, watch her pouty yet full lips mouth words that bring a smile to my face. On occasion, she's able to see the rare Sane blush, usually when I slip up and say something stupid, private or embarrassing.
Our nachos arrived, and I started to talk to the server, but she shut down my usual banter. She's harsh in her judgement of how I deal with wait staff, mostly due to her own experiences in the past in the a similar job. I usually don't care much to follow the advice of others, but in her case I respect her enough that I am happy to cater to her wishes in this case and keep my mouth mostly shut.
Our nachos arrive, and they're heaven on Earth. We both shove food into our mouths, almost competing for the pulled pork instead of the plentiful corn-produced chips. Before the appetizers were served, I washed my hands in the men's room and was pleased by its cleanliness and brightness, but scared out of my mind by a HUGE stick-bush that was hiding behind me. I don't like big, dark, hovering objects in my periphery, and I didn't notice the bush walking in. I mentioned it to the server, and he had no clue what I was talking about. Excellence in design, and funny how I almost jumped into my defensive crouch thinking someone was behind me ready to take me out.
Our drinks were good, and her margarita was flavorful, if not a little too full of sugar. No one makes a good sugar free margarita in the city anymore, sadly.
Sidenote: Her margarita again brings flashbacks to my past friend, Margaret. She didn't have a sip of alcohol until her 17th birthday, at her house, when her parents were away. I concocted fresh Margaritas that I made myself of fresh ingredients. Another interesting seg.
We continue to attack the nachos while sipping our drinks slowly. We order, each of us finding something on the menu that will bring our mouths and bellies pleasure while still giving us the opportunity to catch up. AFCB#2 and I have had meals a number of times, always enjoying the food and conversation, never getting past the stage of being "just friends." I seem to have a talent to gain amazing gal pals, but lately my success rate beyond that has been uneventful, even failing.
Talking with #2 is always intriguing to me, because she is obviously in it for friendship and not any lusty attraction. She has never touched me, my one sign that is the "all systems go" to go in for more than a friendly hug. As I mentioned, this has raised the ire of readers and even some actual friends who are adverse to the idea of me spending quality time with a woman who is just a friend. Odd, but that's how some of my readers and friends are, wanting the Sane to put my body on someone else's body so I can wax ecstatic about the events. Trust me, I am in the same boat, folks.
And yet, as I watch her lips form words and catch glimpses of her body, I wonder: is this going to be a problem for me in the future? When I mean "this" I mean blogging about my truths and then meeting bloggers who may have read me.
Females who I meet who have read me know that I am oblivious to any sign of attraction if they don't grab ahold of me teasingly or even flirtatiously. AFCB#2 hadn't done it, and some others didn't as well. Even AFCB#3, who I brought to an orgasm orally, didn't touch me to grab me or show me any signs of attraction. That was a rule broken there, and it's one I rarely break, except in that case when I was fairly drunk. I don't regret it, and will definitely see her again for a recount, a naked one.
So I thought about it: what if I meet someone who is very attracted to me, but the fact that she knows my "spots" keeps her from doing it because it might seem contrived or obvious? What if I take a gal out and keep her at the level of a friend, even if I am attracted to her and she to me, but she's uncertain about showing me a sign of attraction? Does writing here and then meeting people work against me?
I don't ask her. It's not important in this case, but it's something to think about.
Sidenote: Thinking back to Margaret, I remember that she never touched me, either, but admitted to having a crush on me that lasted over 13 years until she met her husband. I would have jumped her in high school or college, but removed my feelings entirely, based solely on the lack of any sign of desire from her part. Maybe that's why I even think about her when I meet AFCB#2: they have similar mannerisms, and they're both very hands-off. Interesting.
Our meals come, and we continue with our drinks and conversation. #2 is a great talker, and I could listen to her for hours, mostly because she has a life that is something I am not familiar with. My closest friends are in business, with a few hardcore clubbing buddies (the Gay Miguel is one), and some galpals I've clung to over the years. #2 has a full life, but she's missing some key elements that she has to work on. Her honesty is ridiculously refreshing, and I always strive to see her more often than my readers or friends would accept.
It would be a lie if I said that #2 didn't rile me up in some way, but not necessarily in "jump on her and make her my slave in bed way." She's young, she's attractive, she has a sexy vibe to her, but she has obvious boundaries in place and she sticks to them. I appreciate that and respect that more than I could ever say in words, written or spoken. Most people I know give in and loosen their boundaries when people persist or pressure, but hearing her stories of men and boys who have tried to push her beyond her acceptable safety line always proves to me that she is way more responsible and a deeper thinker than some of her stories let on. It's also obvious she needs more gentleman friends in her life, and I'm happy to oblige those needs for her.
We check our phones as the clock passes 9pm to make sure she doesn't miss her outing with her gal pal later. Our conversation never wavers, jumping from topic to topic effortlessly and sometimes comically. In terms of life, #2 and I have very little in common but our passion for good food, good clothing, good sex (not with each other, mind you), good adventures and some passionate goals. Her life is probably boring to her, but I see its stability as refreshing. She is not someone I would likely have befriended, and vice versa, had we met in person and not over our mutual blogs.
Sidenote: Back to Margaret, she is also not someone I would have become friends with had we not met more than 10 times in various different high school cliques and groups. She was nothing like me, and I was nothing like her. We liked each other's company because we were so different from one-another. I do regret never taking things physical with her, but it was probably more post-teenage-hormones than an actual active desire.
As time progressed and it was getting closer to when she had to take her leave, she decided to hit the ladies' room as I took care of the check. As she stood, I automatically stood myself, just as she was telling me I didn't have to. As I've said before, and as I likely told her, my mother taught me well.
When she passed me, her hand touched my shoulder for a split second. She acknowledged the touch jokingly, but her face was turned away towards the direction she walked. She completely missed the electric shock that ran from her finger tip, into my arm, through my chest and down to my legs. Holy crap, that was good. Unexpectedly good.
A woman's touch is something I crave. Not necessarily a specific woman's touch, just the touch itself. I don't know why I am programmed this way, maybe it's a bit of dysmorphia, maybe it's an ego stroke, maybe it was just something I was wondering about. I didn't give it much thought, not up to then or since then. It was a funny, casual, not contrived touch that meant nothing, but it was still electric and reminded me that I want a pretty, funny and sexy gal in my life who will do that regularly.
As the bill was paid and as #2 returned from the powder room, I looked at her again and realized the comedy in what I had just experienced. I filed it away for more thought.
We left the restaurant and as we hit the street, she noticed the gal pal she was intending to meet was already waiting at the venue just across the street where they planned on meeting. Her and I were both walking in the same direction, so we both took 2 steps towards each other and had the shorter embrace since we met. Hugs don't bring out the same jolt than a solo touch can, and hugging her is always nice from a friendship level and a guy level (she has a great little body, who wouldn't want a hug? Or two or three?). She hopped across the street and I wandered away to find my car, which she gave me good directions on re-discovering.
Sidenote: Margaret and I were big huggers, even once in a blue moon spooning while watching a movie. Since a full-on friendly body contact is very different than a woman teasingly touching, I never took spooning as a sign to dig deeper with various parts of my body.
It was an easy dinner, one that reminded me of my past, brought me some thought on my recent frustrations in attracting the right type of woman, and also caused me to contemplate the problems with meeting people from this particular site: does knowing and remember what I write here make it uncomfortable for a woman who is attracted to me to show me that attraction because she knows what I will think, and she will not want it to see forced.
So that leaves in a weird spot. I _like_ meeting people from the web, male and female alike. But if I meet a gal who I am obviously attracted to, and she to me, but she refuses to follow the path she physiologically wants to follow because she knows that I would see through it, am I setting myself up for a painful crush-destroying experience?
I'm not sure, but it is something to think about.
Regardless of my response to that solitary, accidental touch, it still gives me pleasure to know that my body responds to that. If I meet someone, even you, and there is a mutual attraction, will that someone refrain from showing it because I am so obvious and blantant in my needs?
I guess only time will tell.