In my phone conversation with my dad I let it slip that the tires on my bike were stolen. I tried to show him the humor of the situation but he didn’t see it. To his christian thinking it is another sign that I am not where I am supposed to be. I couldn’t explain to him why, exactly, I thought the matter so funny. Though the notion of a “sign” isn’t that far from the mark.
The night that I went to the bar it was due the call of a woman. This woman is 19 or 20 years old and is a new stripper, having come to the club two nights before I left my employment there. She asked for my number and I, willingly, gave it. In this instance I could be quite crass, but I’ll refrain with saying that she was a savory morsel that I would have liked to have partaken of.
At the bar it was a small group, perhaps four guys and two girls. Add one more guy. However I was my usual self at the bar. You see, when I am working it is my job to talk to people… so I do. When I am not working I do not go out of my way to talk to people. In fact a lot of the time I prefer if someone doesn’t even talk to me. The usual conversations at bars bores me to tears. Perhaps this is the reason that I do not go to bars much at all anymore. I only went now because she called me to have a drink with her and closing time was near and I had no place to be the next day. Do the math. I did know one of the guys there, however, the former roommate of a former co-worker. Eventually we strung together a string of words into a sentence or two and find out that something is on his mind. The woman of interest invites me outside for a smoke. I oblige. We have a very sparse conversation, she sitting very close in the cold night air. She tells me of her troubles and also of “his” hesitancy. What was this? My internal ears perked up with all the psychological insight that I could muster. She didn’t say more on any of the matters. But she kissed/bit me on the neck and left herself open for return action from me. However in that 60 seconds with the insight that I had just recieved from her, intercourse of any sort was strictly out of the question. I see nothing immoral or wrong whatsoever about sex. However, I do not feel comfortable in the matter if one of the parties involved (if more than two people are involved) have some emotional issues. I include myself into the matter. Having seen the truer notions of her advances I drew the boundary around myself and by subtle language and body motion I set that boundary clear. I offered any and all help that I could for her in her distressful times, including a place to crash, but there is no longer any motivation for sampling her sweetness.
As we re-entered the bar, “he” was waiting where we left him. We resumed our talks and I gave very subtle nudges to him, giving way to his position, making it known that I was no threat. The subtleness of them may have escaped his conscious perception, but unconsciously we are aware of much more. After a short while she leaned forward to him, as though offering a kiss. I quickly turned to the bar and retrieved my coat and gloves. Together we three walked out of the bar, the last to leave, and I wished the two of them a wonderful night while I turned to my bike, realizing that some damned asshole had stolen my wheels off of my bike.
I carried the light frame back home and laughed at myself. It was almost as if I could hear the stars laughing at me above, telling me “that’ll teach you to think with whats in your pants”. Ah, that it may indeed. But I regret nothing. If she had had no emotional needs or distresses or relationship issues at the time I would have invited her over. However, she wasn’t. She was a confused person and whether it is sex, or money, it is a form of stealing from a person while they are in this state.
Of course I can’t explain all of this to my dad. The whole bit is possibly a horribly immoral tale to him, what with me going to a bar for the opportunity to have casual non-married sex with a girl who is just 19 years old. Hmmm… it seems to me that a lot of the things we call immoral shouldn’t be, and a lot of the things we turn our blind eye to should be.