Sunday, July 5, 2009
Another fourth of July comes and goes, with many barbecues, friends in from out of town, piles of parties that I hit for a few minutes here and a few hours there. I love to eat, I love pretty gals in sun dresses, their boys huddled around the grill with beer in hand.
Saturday was good to me, even though I was a bit light-headed. I saw many friends who came in from out of town to visit family or other friends.
Saturday morning I received a text from Paulo, the boyfriend of blogger and reader Celine. He invited me to swing by his pad in Lincoln Park for a BBQ and to meet some of his co-workers. I was surprised at his invitation, only having seen him twice since winter, but I obliged and hopped over.
When I arrived, I was not too shocked to see the party filled with beautiful people, men and women alike. I was definitely the uggo one here, but it never bothers me much. Common topics of conversation were unemployment, college debt crises, and relationship issues. I'm not party to any of that misery, so I can hold myself to a higher standard than just superficiality. Add in the fact that there were obviously men and women alike who had recently had cosmetic surgery, and I knew what most of them were sad about: their outsides looked amazing, but their insides were pure darkness. Sad.
I heard Paulo talking, so I wandered over to that direction. He saw me and waved me over, and as I pushed through the crowd, there was Celine. Looking sexy as can be in a bra-less summer dress with spaghetti straps almost falling off her tanned shoulders. Shit.
As Paulo slapped me on my shoulder and gave me a half man-hug, Celine bounced up, excited to see me. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, saying she was glad I made it. It was obvioust that she didn't know I was coming.
"Oh, that's right, you two have met once or twice," Paulo said after we unlocked our hug. It was hard for me to play the martyr, considering I fucked his girlfriend 9 ways from Saturday barely 7 months ago.
Celine's dress was short, hiked well above the lower thigh. I had forgotten her beauty, honestly, but she is a stunner. And I fucked her. And I missed the opportunity to let loose on her face, something I regret because of her beauty and her desire to give up everything to me on that night.
The horniness comes and goes. In her case, memories of that night flooded back to me as her dress was definitely not hiding any part of her body's form and physique. She gained a little muscle since then, and her tan was amazing. Her hair was longer, something I mentioned she should try. Thank the maker that she wasn't wearing glasses or I'd have found a way to proposition her to the alley behind the garage and bend her against it. Ouch.
Celine, you'll read this, so don't take it as a request to re-ignite those passions. You looked amazing, as always. Paulo is a perfect guy for you, and I'm glad I was able to share some laughs at your party. I'm glad things are going well for both of your careers and lives.
Still, I looked around and didn't make strong eye contact with a single female out there. I wonder if Celine told her gorgeous gal pals about me, if they'd look at me differently. Maybe, maybe not. It's hard to say. Still, I'd probably turn most of them down for even a date because they're obviously not passionate about life. And that's sad to me.
The party was fun, I swapped some numbers with people interested in some of my real businesses that front as alibis for the life of a simple businessman. I arranged to see Paulo out and about later in the month, maybe with Celine in tow, or not. We'll see.
For me, the fourth isn't about celebrating independence from an Empire of the King, but for families and friends to get together and witness love and honor and respect, which I saw at most of the parties I attended. In this particular case, it also reminded me of the night of love, honor and respect I was able to show a young lady who needed all 3, and needed them from me. It's something I'm glad I wrote about on this blog, as I often forget the details, or even the event, without my own words to prompt the memories to flood back into my cranium.