Ok, I'm tired of looking through people's profiles, and not hungry enough to go out and eat yet, so....
Storytime:
This weekend I am eating at the same place I go every Saturday night...great wine, better food. When you go to nicer places like that alone, I would highly recommend eatting at the bar, if the bartender is good conversation, which this fella is, and if the typical folks that wander in are interesting people to strike up totally random conversations with, which these people, at least those that end up at the bar, normally are.
Two girls walk in the door. Its near closing time for the kitchen, but the bar stays open so long as the bartender stays and likes the people in the position to stay. I'd met them both about a month earlier in the same place, but hadn't seen either since.
That earlier month, when we met the first time, the blonde girl, who was my age, was very talkative with me (about her boyfriend stationed in Germany for the most part), touchy to an extent, and overall giving me the impression that she was interested. Some girls, I tell ya. Anyway, she was a pretty girl, so I wasn't pushing away the attention. End of the night, they left; I stayed for a few more. End of story, or so I thought, but then there's this weekend.
I hear the door open, turn around to check out the recent additions to the restuarant crowd, and there they are. I remembered nearly everything we'd talked about, so I say Hi and ask her how her mother was doing (she was scheduled to have surgery last we talked). That may have been a mistake. Because, though they were meeting friends there for drinks at a table that they already had, she came to the bar and sat with me. I can handle that, I suppose. I mean I was already done eatting and just shooting the breeze with the bartender over some tall trees cab.
And God said let the wine flow...and it did. (he didn't say that? well, I said it, then)
Her friends left. Everyone else left. Its us at the bar with the people that work at the restuarant, which I know most of, so we continued to sit there...and drink, all the while talking about her boyfriend in the Army, and how much she missed him, and even shed a tear, which of course, I took care of.
Can't smoke in restuarants here, so we go outside to smoke. Its about 2:30 am. I barely get mine burning and she starts kissing me. This isn't typical first kiss kissing. This was like I had the last life-giving morsels of food on earth in my mouth and she was starving. So now, intentions that had been extremely muddy are suddenly made clear, and being drunk myself, I gave her a ride home, since that makes Soo much sense.
Oh man.
We walked in the front door of her place, which she owns (she made a ton of money for only being 27), and she's showing me the place, turning on some music, and introducing me to her black cat, which she says hates everyone, and of course, he takes off down the hall scared shitless when he sees me.
The next hourS were her talking about and getting fired up and a bit out of control about different situations in her life, taking breaks to find that food in my mouth again, pull me to the floor, then stop, then say she loved her boyfriend like a broken record, then get fired up and loud again, rinse, repeat. I was called a good listener, a gentlemen, an asshole if I disagreed with something she said (I must have been retarded to attempt a conversation at that point), a manipulator (that may be fair, but its totally unconscious, I swear!) Anyway, she finally wears herself out between rounds of violent making-out, getting pissed, crying, smoking, etc, and its time for bed...at about 6 am.
I slept on the couch. I'd give her credit, but I think she was feeling sick at that point. She wanted sex. I could smell it, literally, but it didn't happen. I was sober enough by that point to appreciate it.
My eyes opened at about 11am that morning. I stretched, and considered going back to sleep for a bit, when I heard something light and small running on the carpet. I cock my head to the side and take a look. Staring up at me is the cat. We exchanged looks, and he jumped up on my stomach, turned a circle, and laid down facing me, with his eyes half open. This cat knew what I had went through. He lived with her, after all. We shared a little moment there, the cat and I, a moment of mutual understanding. I scratched his ears for a bit in a show of appreciation, "I hear ya, cat. I hear ya."
Got up. Went to her room. Told her bye. She mumbled something that I'll take as "bye", and I left, locking the door behind me.
Storytime:
This weekend I am eating at the same place I go every Saturday night...great wine, better food. When you go to nicer places like that alone, I would highly recommend eatting at the bar, if the bartender is good conversation, which this fella is, and if the typical folks that wander in are interesting people to strike up totally random conversations with, which these people, at least those that end up at the bar, normally are.
Two girls walk in the door. Its near closing time for the kitchen, but the bar stays open so long as the bartender stays and likes the people in the position to stay. I'd met them both about a month earlier in the same place, but hadn't seen either since.
That earlier month, when we met the first time, the blonde girl, who was my age, was very talkative with me (about her boyfriend stationed in Germany for the most part), touchy to an extent, and overall giving me the impression that she was interested. Some girls, I tell ya. Anyway, she was a pretty girl, so I wasn't pushing away the attention. End of the night, they left; I stayed for a few more. End of story, or so I thought, but then there's this weekend.
I hear the door open, turn around to check out the recent additions to the restuarant crowd, and there they are. I remembered nearly everything we'd talked about, so I say Hi and ask her how her mother was doing (she was scheduled to have surgery last we talked). That may have been a mistake. Because, though they were meeting friends there for drinks at a table that they already had, she came to the bar and sat with me. I can handle that, I suppose. I mean I was already done eatting and just shooting the breeze with the bartender over some tall trees cab.
And God said let the wine flow...and it did. (he didn't say that? well, I said it, then)
Her friends left. Everyone else left. Its us at the bar with the people that work at the restuarant, which I know most of, so we continued to sit there...and drink, all the while talking about her boyfriend in the Army, and how much she missed him, and even shed a tear, which of course, I took care of.
Can't smoke in restuarants here, so we go outside to smoke. Its about 2:30 am. I barely get mine burning and she starts kissing me. This isn't typical first kiss kissing. This was like I had the last life-giving morsels of food on earth in my mouth and she was starving. So now, intentions that had been extremely muddy are suddenly made clear, and being drunk myself, I gave her a ride home, since that makes Soo much sense.
Oh man.
We walked in the front door of her place, which she owns (she made a ton of money for only being 27), and she's showing me the place, turning on some music, and introducing me to her black cat, which she says hates everyone, and of course, he takes off down the hall scared shitless when he sees me.
The next hourS were her talking about and getting fired up and a bit out of control about different situations in her life, taking breaks to find that food in my mouth again, pull me to the floor, then stop, then say she loved her boyfriend like a broken record, then get fired up and loud again, rinse, repeat. I was called a good listener, a gentlemen, an asshole if I disagreed with something she said (I must have been retarded to attempt a conversation at that point), a manipulator (that may be fair, but its totally unconscious, I swear!) Anyway, she finally wears herself out between rounds of violent making-out, getting pissed, crying, smoking, etc, and its time for bed...at about 6 am.
I slept on the couch. I'd give her credit, but I think she was feeling sick at that point. She wanted sex. I could smell it, literally, but it didn't happen. I was sober enough by that point to appreciate it.
My eyes opened at about 11am that morning. I stretched, and considered going back to sleep for a bit, when I heard something light and small running on the carpet. I cock my head to the side and take a look. Staring up at me is the cat. We exchanged looks, and he jumped up on my stomach, turned a circle, and laid down facing me, with his eyes half open. This cat knew what I had went through. He lived with her, after all. We shared a little moment there, the cat and I, a moment of mutual understanding. I scratched his ears for a bit in a show of appreciation, "I hear ya, cat. I hear ya."
Got up. Went to her room. Told her bye. She mumbled something that I'll take as "bye", and I left, locking the door behind me.