I started this blog for one reason and one reason only -- to get MY thoughts on paper. I've found it particularly therapeutic over the last few months, especially when Granny died. However, I've found myself censoring what I say now that I've decided to go public with it. As quiet as it's kept, I really don't want to offend anyone or hurt anyone's feelings. However, I have to stay true to this blog's purpose -- to help me express myself. With that said...
I'm going to have to end a relationship with someone. Ol' Boy is the friend of a friend of mine. When I met him, I really didn't feel any particular way about him. He seemed nice, but I looked at him as an acquaintance. When he found out I was new in town, he was like, "Oh, I could show you around." Since I didn't have a car, I didn't really think anything about giving him my number. I just figured he was being polite, and I really didn't expect to hear from him.
When Ol' Boy called and asked me to go out for drinks the next day, I still didn't think anything about it. He had said he wanted to show me around, right? Why would I think anything out of the way? He took me to the Ritz in Marina del Rey. We started off sitting on opposite ends of the couch talking about business. Four or five drinks later, I was extremely drunk and sitting right next to him. I would love to tell you what was being said at that point, but all I can remember was that I was laughing a lot.
We left the Ritz and went to the beach. The night was extremely mild, and we got out to walk around. That's when Ol' Boy made his move on me. In retrospect, I probably should've just asked him to take me home, but I was too drunk to think straight. When he kissed me, I went with it for two reasons -- one, the liquor made it seem like a good idea, and two, it had been too long since I'd received any male attention. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say I ended up in a compromising position.
Afterwards, I was so humiliated. I've never been the type of girl who would go out like that. For me, it was a true blond moment. I felt like a girl gone wild, but there was no one to blame at that point. While I was way past my drink limit, I still allowed it. That being said, I was still upset at Ol' Boy because I felt like he took advantage of the situation. Most men I know wouldn't have sex with a girl as drunk as I was. They have way too much pride in their sexual prowess to give it to someone who can't appreciate the full extent of what's being given to them.
Needless to say, I didn't want to see Ol' Boy again. Plus, I figured he and his friends -- with whom I really wanted to do business -- would just write me off as some slut who couldn't hold her liquor and gave up the goods on the first date. When I told my friend who made the introductions about the situation, he apologized to me on Ol' Boy's behalf. His take was that, yes, I had been semi-victimized, but it wasn't too terribly bad. Since I was too ashamed to face any of those people again, I just chalked it up to the game.
Well, lo and behold, I got a text message a few months later from Ol' Boy inviting me to do some work with him. I was so excited -- and so in need of cash -- that I went. My official title was "production assistant," which for me, constituted sitting around and looking cute. For my trouble, I collected $300 for two days. Needless to say, I was anxious to do something like that on a regular basis, and I told him so. He told me that he'd do what he could to find me some sort of regular gig, and I believed him.
Fast forward to now. Ol' Boy still hasn't come through on the job front, and I haven't been inclined to share my goods with him since that first time. Even though I thought he'd catch the hint after a few months of me holding out, he's still around after almost a year and a half. Don't get me wrong -- he's tried everything from offering me trips abroad to trying to get me to revisit the drunken stupor, but to no avail. I have absolutely no desire to relate to him in my naked time.
My friends all think I'm crazy. Yes, there was that minor indiscretion the first time you went out with him, they say, but it's nothing you can't get over. Besides, he looks good on paper and in theory. Not only does he take you nice places, they say, but he's also been extremely patient with the fact that there's been no penis between us.
To my credit, I've tried to find some redeeming quality in this man. That first incident not withstanding, he treats me better than any other guy I've been out with. I never have to spend money with him, and he does takes me nice places. However, there are two fundamental things that make this relationship impossible. One, I don't trust him. Whatever trust I could've had in him was destroyed on that first date. Second -- and, in my opinion, most importantly -- I'm not attracted to him in that way.
In addition, I get the distinct impression that Ol' Boy doesn't respect women. We were talking about an incident at his job, and he referred to a woman as a piece of tail. To say I was offended was an understatement. While I'm not stupid enough to believe he's the only one that feels that way, I've never heard a man refer to a co-worker in that way. Since I was in his car, I kept my feelings to myself, but I made note of it for future reference.
At the end of the day, I think one of my best friends hit the nail on the head when she said that I just don't like him. She said, "I don't know why you're trying to make this a deep, philosophical issue. He's just not the one for you. Accept it and move on." And that's what I've got to do.
I'm going to have to end a relationship with someone. Ol' Boy is the friend of a friend of mine. When I met him, I really didn't feel any particular way about him. He seemed nice, but I looked at him as an acquaintance. When he found out I was new in town, he was like, "Oh, I could show you around." Since I didn't have a car, I didn't really think anything about giving him my number. I just figured he was being polite, and I really didn't expect to hear from him.
When Ol' Boy called and asked me to go out for drinks the next day, I still didn't think anything about it. He had said he wanted to show me around, right? Why would I think anything out of the way? He took me to the Ritz in Marina del Rey. We started off sitting on opposite ends of the couch talking about business. Four or five drinks later, I was extremely drunk and sitting right next to him. I would love to tell you what was being said at that point, but all I can remember was that I was laughing a lot.
We left the Ritz and went to the beach. The night was extremely mild, and we got out to walk around. That's when Ol' Boy made his move on me. In retrospect, I probably should've just asked him to take me home, but I was too drunk to think straight. When he kissed me, I went with it for two reasons -- one, the liquor made it seem like a good idea, and two, it had been too long since I'd received any male attention. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say I ended up in a compromising position.
Afterwards, I was so humiliated. I've never been the type of girl who would go out like that. For me, it was a true blond moment. I felt like a girl gone wild, but there was no one to blame at that point. While I was way past my drink limit, I still allowed it. That being said, I was still upset at Ol' Boy because I felt like he took advantage of the situation. Most men I know wouldn't have sex with a girl as drunk as I was. They have way too much pride in their sexual prowess to give it to someone who can't appreciate the full extent of what's being given to them.
Needless to say, I didn't want to see Ol' Boy again. Plus, I figured he and his friends -- with whom I really wanted to do business -- would just write me off as some slut who couldn't hold her liquor and gave up the goods on the first date. When I told my friend who made the introductions about the situation, he apologized to me on Ol' Boy's behalf. His take was that, yes, I had been semi-victimized, but it wasn't too terribly bad. Since I was too ashamed to face any of those people again, I just chalked it up to the game.
Well, lo and behold, I got a text message a few months later from Ol' Boy inviting me to do some work with him. I was so excited -- and so in need of cash -- that I went. My official title was "production assistant," which for me, constituted sitting around and looking cute. For my trouble, I collected $300 for two days. Needless to say, I was anxious to do something like that on a regular basis, and I told him so. He told me that he'd do what he could to find me some sort of regular gig, and I believed him.
Fast forward to now. Ol' Boy still hasn't come through on the job front, and I haven't been inclined to share my goods with him since that first time. Even though I thought he'd catch the hint after a few months of me holding out, he's still around after almost a year and a half. Don't get me wrong -- he's tried everything from offering me trips abroad to trying to get me to revisit the drunken stupor, but to no avail. I have absolutely no desire to relate to him in my naked time.
My friends all think I'm crazy. Yes, there was that minor indiscretion the first time you went out with him, they say, but it's nothing you can't get over. Besides, he looks good on paper and in theory. Not only does he take you nice places, they say, but he's also been extremely patient with the fact that there's been no penis between us.
To my credit, I've tried to find some redeeming quality in this man. That first incident not withstanding, he treats me better than any other guy I've been out with. I never have to spend money with him, and he does takes me nice places. However, there are two fundamental things that make this relationship impossible. One, I don't trust him. Whatever trust I could've had in him was destroyed on that first date. Second -- and, in my opinion, most importantly -- I'm not attracted to him in that way.
In addition, I get the distinct impression that Ol' Boy doesn't respect women. We were talking about an incident at his job, and he referred to a woman as a piece of tail. To say I was offended was an understatement. While I'm not stupid enough to believe he's the only one that feels that way, I've never heard a man refer to a co-worker in that way. Since I was in his car, I kept my feelings to myself, but I made note of it for future reference.
At the end of the day, I think one of my best friends hit the nail on the head when she said that I just don't like him. She said, "I don't know why you're trying to make this a deep, philosophical issue. He's just not the one for you. Accept it and move on." And that's what I've got to do.
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