About two years ago,
somewhat influenced by peer pressure, I made a hasty decision. I was eager for companionship without thinking through the consequences. I went to a club and surveyed my choices, about 20 potentials in all. The most attractive quartet were immediately dismissed since, hey, everyone is hitting on them anyway, so no need to get in at the back of the line. Various others were excused for reasons of geography, history, social sciences....wait, not that last one, I just got carried away in naming various classes I took in high school. Anyway, even though this was a club that didn't have a last call, I still felt somewhat obligated to make a decision quickly.
So, I picked one. On the surface it was a good choice. She had a
stylish look, a
cute apartment in a
very trendy location and because you can never be too careful these days, her
sexual history was almost non-existent.
As you might notice, these were all pretty superficial reasons for getting together with someone, and the strain began to show right away. Remember, I wasn't looking for a hookup, I wanted a serious, committed relationship that would last a lifetime, like my
other three steadies (in a completely unrelated, Big Love is a helluva show). However, it quickly became apparent that things weren't working out. Whereas my other marriages have had their ups and downs, the ups were so wonderful that it made the downs tolerable. With my latest, however, it was pretty much nothing but negatives. Was I expected to be impressed when she did the
bare minimum of what was expected in a relationship and then proclaimed that I should be satisfied? Psshaw. At this point is occurred to me that I should've interpreted her lack of sexual history as a bad omen rather than a nice safety tidbit. Frankly, a little bit of
burning urine might not have been so bad if it meant more of
the good stuff.The real problem, of course, was the lack of a spark. With the other three, our relationships were forged from some seminal event or bond that ended up being able to sustain years of happiness. Here, there was no such moment of surrender. It was an arbitrary choice on my part, perhaps fueled by the shining disco lights and perhaps a few too many drinks (note to self: re-read that Simmons article for any subliminal uses of the word 'ecstasy').
It is for this reason that I am reporting that the two of us are temporarily on a break. It isn't necessarily the end, per se. To use a somewhat dated Friends reference, it might be that the current
sexy girl at the copy place with the
hot dance moves and the
pierced navel just ends up being a fling. But hey, fling or not, the new girl has a lot going for her right now. And let's be honest, if my girlfriend looked like Jennifer Aniston, I would surely have no reason to cheat....
oh wait....Yeah, I'm a cheater. It's not something I'm proud of. It's certainly not something I do in real life. But while this post isn't an excuse, it is the reason --- a relationship based on a passing fancy surely can't be expected to be binding. And I've given it two years, so I'm not exactly leaving like a thief in the night. There's a reason why this one always remained merely a girlfriend, and not a steady like the other three, which are pretty much marriages at this point.
So as I settle in for my first date with the new girl, (or, more specifically, the first
38 dates), I'll still check in with the girlfriend from time to time. I'll send her a text or check out her Facebook page, or maybe even meet up for a cup of coffee. Sure, it'll be awkward when the girlfriend and the fling meet on October 25 --- my birthday party --- and January 31 --- my annual pilgrimage to Philadelphia to celebrate
Mario Lanza's birthday...no, not
that one --- and a catfight is inevitable. Let's just hope it doesn't degrade into a lot of hair-pulling and red cards. The only booking that deserves to be awarded in this case should go to me, for premature team pick-ulation.
By the way, in case you're wondering why I don't just start dating the
girl at work, come on, man. Office relationships are fraught with difficulty. What's the old saying about not dipping your pen in the company ink? Well, that saying is even more accurate when you replace the word 'pen' with 'penis' and 'ink' with vagina. The guy who came up with that saying must've dated a girl with pretty horrible personal hygiene if ink was the best comparison he could make to her lady bits.
1 comment:
You're going from Fulham to Portsmouth? You're in for a lot of pain.
I hope you're used to managers complaining too because Arry Redknapp is the king ;)
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