Posts Tagged ‘flings


Recycling — My Earth Month Amendment

Okay, so I’m lazy. I have zero desire to go out and meet new guys (well, that is not strictly true…I have 5% desire to meet new people, 95% to drink cheap white wine and cackle with my lady friends)… and I’ve compensated for it in two ways:

1.  I put out universal thought waves that impel me to bump into men on the street, or more likely in my apartment complex, which around this time of year fills up with 20-something boys just begging you to ‘party…please come party.’

2. I recycle. (Perhaps ‘reuse’ would also be an accurate term but it’s a bit mercenary for my tastes.)

Per the latter, I have only one question: Why not? Recycling–i.e. picking up where you left off with someone who never left angry, or vice-versa–seems like the most efficient and stress-free way of having a personal life sometimes. In fact, I’m beginning to think I’d like to make a habit of it. Who needs a husband when you could have:

1. A part-time sugar-baby houseboy who lives in a foreign land and speaks with a sexy accent

2. A part-time mad genius artist who lives in three cities and speaks in tongues

3. A part-time ‘serious, sensible’ upwardly mobile man whom your parents would surely love if you ever let them meet him.

I think I could totally live my life this way for a while. The only thing is, unfortunately, it’s not sanctioned by modern monotheistic religion or governmental policy (hypocrites!!!). So I thought I would write my own constitutional amendment, on behalf of Earth Day, energy-saving practices, and fickle women everywhere:

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for two people to hook up and have a fabulous time, and then not see each other again for a brief while–or a long while, perhaps even a year or two–due to work, relocation, personal issues or a combination thereof, then when the twain bump into each other again, it shall be deemed right and appropriate by the power of the Dating Columnist invested in This Humble Blogger (and my various worldwide Counterparts) that those Two shall fromp again as they see fit… provided they are both still single, free and (ahem) easy. (This, note ye, is not only fair and just, but entirely sensible given the particular social flexibility the universe has granted us, what with discount airfares and Facebook and cell phones and prostitute-mongering political role models, fa la la etcetera etcetera.)

Witnessed by no one except you, The Reader, but I suspect everyone from Kinsey to Skinemax would co-sign if they had the chance.

This Day of April Whatever, 2008.



Hottie neighbor, I never knew ye

Ah, well, gosh darn and heck. My hot little (not so little–about 6’2 actually) neighbor is moving away tomorrow, and I am bereft. I always thought I might hook up with him some day when we both had the time. But I was always roaming around the freakin’ world, hanging out on fishing boats and at casinos and in various Chinatowns in various cities…and my neighbor got bored of the South Bay, and off he goes.

I wonder what his girlfriend thinks about all of it. She used to glare at me because he said ‘hi’ when we saw each other in passing. She must seriously be Medusa-faced now that he’s ditched her for a $50K pay raise and a change of scenery.

(Girl. A tip from me. He’s 26 years old. That’s what boys that age do.)

When I first thought about sleeping with my neighbor, a wise and jaded former friend-with-benefits said, “Don’t do it. You’ll bump into each other all the time, and if either of you happens to be with a girlfriend or boyfriend at that moment, things will get super-awkward.”

This made sense to me, so I decided not to jump on my neighbor, even though it would literally have taken just one jump: right over the little iron railing and onto his balcony, where he’s always hanging out on the weekends, shirtless, with six-pack abs and dimples and a leftover buzz from the night before. He’s the jock you can’t help but like–the one that gave a damn about school and went quasi-corporate and goes on heli-skiing vacations and is as adorable in adulthood as he was growing up.

I have a weakness for those guys, I admit it. They’re so…mellow. Like Labs, kind of. Yeah, I wanted to sleep with him, but I also wanted to scratch him behind the ears and give him a biscuit. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why it never panned out.

Instead, I entertained vague but enthusiastic notions of introducing him to various girlfriends of mine. (“He’s sweet, he’s tall, he’s got a nice body, he’s an attorney…what more do you want?” I would demand of them.) And I promised him that I would come out drinking, or go to his house and engage in drinking, or that he could come to my house and there we would drink. But when all was said and done, I don’t feel like hanging out with frat boys in my spare time, and he was always in the midst of a pack of them. So…

 Au revoir, neighbor. I can’t for the life of me remember what your name is, but I’ll miss seeing your smile. And your abs. And I’ll miss bumming cigarettes off you at 1 in the morning when we’re both more drunk than we should be. Good luck in your new home…and I hope you find a new girlfriend who’s less of a jealous bitch than the old one.

Oh, and stop dying your hair black. I realize it’s your last vestige of schoolboy rebelliousness, but it’s more trouble than its worth, since your hair is only an inch long. If you really want to make a quiet counter-cultural fashion statement, pierce your nipples. That’ll get me over your balcony in 2.2 seconds flat.

August 2020

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