Friday, March 12, 2010
Taking her to lunch excites me. Hey, I’m not proud. I’ll take what I can get. She asks me if I want to ask any other co-worker friends to come along. I don’t, but I don’t want to seem weird. So I ask them, all good friends whom I like a lot, hoping they won’t accept the invite. When they decline, I feel like I’ve won something. I like the fact that other people in the restaurant likely look at us and think we’re a couple. I just try to hold on to that and savor it. Lunch alone with her on a Friday afternoon, a beautiful Friday afternoon. She always puts on sunglasses, though her blue eyes look so much better unadorned. Christ, she’s beautiful. The radiance of the shining afternoon sky is improved by her standing in front of it. She’s such a funny girl, the Blond. So guarded, and yet so interested in any sort of details she can get out of me. Dirty things I’ve done. Other women I’ve been with. What they’ve been like. The arrangement I have with my wife. Each time we have one of these conversations, I think I’m wearing her defenses down. I feel like I’m getting a little closer to defeating her “no married men” rule. Probably not a bad rule to have, but rules are fun to break. That’s what life’s about. The joy of indiscretion is one of the greatest that life has to offer. We are absolute opposites. Not a lot of overlap at all. I think that’s what is so intriguing. That’s why I’m so interested. She’s exactly the type of woman who looks like she’d never want to degrade herself by talking to anyone like me. She’s an athlete, and from what I understand, has historically dated athletes. She likes clean-cut men who enjoy playing and watching sports. She likes career-oriented, ambitious, well-dressed men who appreciate fine automobiles. The men she admires are most likely the sort who mocked me, intimidated me, and called me a fag back in high school. The irony is that, at 29, I’m in better shape now than many of them. Regardless, her taste in just about everything is absolutely opposite my own. I just don’t understand what she likes about me. Though I’m not sure if she’s attracted to me, she must certainly like my company. She’s always very willing to spend time with me. The puzzlement is exciting. If I ever got her, it would feel like a victory over everything I’ve struggled against up to this point in my life. That’s not to say that I’m pursuing her out of spite, or that she’s in any way “better” than other women that have been in my life. It’s that she’s so incompatible with me. It’s that I’m excited at the prospect of attaining something I wasn’t meant to have. There’s all that…and her perfectly shaped ass. I like walking behind her and watching that tail wag. Her weight shifts from leg to leg, and her hips sway to accommodate, each cheek taking turns showing off. Tuesday we had lunch at Sunseri’s, upstairs. She went up the stairs first, and I followed close behind her behind.