At the last minute I went down to Clapham to join The Blonde at a house party, which was your standard scene of beer in the kitchen, people outside smoking, and too many people crammed into the living room. People were friendly, although most were musicians we struggled to find much in common with to talk about. After a while we got bored and went back to hers (she lived around the corner) and just sat on the sofa chatting.
As we were talking about boys, we talked a bit about Roofie's Brother, and The Blonde told me about a conversation she'd had once with Angel about Roofie and his brother, and who would be the last to get married. Surprising (to me, anyway), was the answer that Roofie himself would get married before his brother, given that I'd always thought of Roofie as the bigger player, much more so than his brother.
She told me then about a girl he'd been dating a while back, who apparently he wasn't that into, but she was so eager-to-please and kept buying him things that he kept her around out of laziness more than anything else. Apparently he doesn't really want a relationship, but just likes to have a girl around. It was a really interesting insight into his personality and character.
Suddenly, it's much like seeing a chess game, where you plot out all of the moves in your head, and you realise that the only way to win is to play to a draw. I can never sleep with him, I can never give in, I can never become the eager-to-please type who will lose his interest.
Yet, I know how to play this game. With the Tall South African or the Young Dutchman, here I have two very big players who have women hanging off them constantly, who call me all of the time and are endlessly devoted to me, because I've always been witty and entertaining and just out of reach. Yes, it's not a romantic attachment, but they are both devoted to me in a way that they are not to any other girl, which I think I've managed by playing on my wits the way I have. Funny, it's right when you figure the game out that you realise it's rigged.
So yes, this will mean giving up on this one, knowing it won't go anywhere, but yet at least I suppose I can still have him around for entertainment value. It's nice getting kisses from him and having him pay attention to me when he sees me. Flirting is fun, so I intend to keep that up, but without expectation that anything else will happen. Let's face it, having a cute boy around is helpful for the ego, at least. I may not win the game, but I won't lose it either.
We also chatted about all of the men in her life, and I was once again reminded of how differently The Blonde handles interactions with boys than I do. We were talking about Ginger Lawyer Guy, who I like, but have never taken seriously as a prospect for me, ever since he made a drunken pass at me, assuming that I might just go home and have sex with him. Turns out that The Blonde has stayed over his a few times (as you might after a late night), just wanting perhaps a cuddle in bed, but getting so annoyed by his persistent demands for sex that she just gave in and did it. On quite a few different occasions.
In fact, as we ran through the list, it seemed like every time I'd held out and turned a guy down, she'd given in to him. Almost to the point where I wanted to ask how on earth she'd progressed what would have otherwise been a mild flirtation to sex so quickly! I probably could stand to learn to do a little more of that...
Yet one comment caught me as being kind of sad. I know the Tall South African had mentioned that for a girl who had sex so frequently, she didn't actually seem to enjoy it that much. And she talked about a holiday that she'd gone on with a male friend, where they actually did end up cuddling and just taking their time in bed, not actually having sex but just exploring how erotic touch can be. Which, quite frankly is I think why I haven't actually gone through with having sex with so many guys, but just "playtime" instead. And I enjoy it all so much more. Yet, she seemed so wistful as she told me about it, like that was the one and only time she'd experienced that.
Finally at around 2 AM, it was pouring rain outside, so I called a cab and went home. To be home in minutes, out of the rain, for a mere £20 was entirely worth it to me, but I also felt a bit bad as we'd talked about her challenges of having gone from being a medical researcher to a nanny, trying to set up her own business. And of course, how funds were that much tighter as a result, whilst I think nothing of spending £20 on a cab. But yet, it's a luxury that's nice to have...
No comments:
Post a Comment