Joseph and I talked on the phone late last week - a rarity. Apparently the girlfriend and child were visiting at an aunt's place for two days, so the lucky boy had the house to himself. What does he do? Call me. Naturally.
I used to completely hate talking on the phone, and in fact would only talk with family, under threats of bodily harm from my mother. It's awkward. I'm a visual person, more than auditory, so without the body language, a lot of times I was adrift in a conversation. Since I've gotten older, I've gotten much, much better at it, and in fact will call up complete strangers and ask to buy their cars. But I still don't like talking on the phone, especially not to Joseph.
Joseph falls under the "guys who want to get in my pants" clause, which goes something like this:
If there is a guy, and he wants to get into my pants, I will have absolutely nothing to say to him in a one-on-one conversation. I will also be incapable of replying to any attempts he makes at conversation.
It's sucky. The worst of it is, Joseph and I are both wordy people. Dude is a goddamn writer, for fuck's sake. Me, well, I just have a big mouth. And yet, every time I talk to him, I look like a fucking idiot. Unlike Jay's and my silent dinners, I think in this case it is because I am trying too hard to be witty and entertaining, and failing miserably because I am too scared to try. Or too lazy to think anything up, one or the other. Email is fine though - probably because it's okay if I take fifteen minutes to compose a single sentence in reply.
Anyway, Joseph and I. We talked. Not much, since he called on Wednesday night when I had to get to sleep for my four-hour nap between shifts. We did talk a bit though. Two things stuck with me from the conversation (well, maybe three or four):
1. He is not into kink.
2. He is, in fact, amoral, and likes me because I don't bother to judge him for this.
3. He is not telling the girlfriend that he is spending a week with another woman.
4. "No matter what we wind up being to each other, I want you to know that I'll always love you, and consider you one of my closest friends, and I'll always be there for you and look out for you."
One of these things is not like the others. I didn't really know how to respond to the last - my silence was long enough that he started getting worried that I was getting emotional. Obviously he doesn't know me as well as he thinks, because I don't fucking cry. Certainly not for him. And it wasn't that I was emotional over it, but more like Hmmm. That's interesting. I wonder what exactly that means to him. I would not consider his plans 'looking out for me' in any way, shape, form, etc.
I also gleefully told him that if he were my significant other, and I found out that he'd spent a week out-of-state with another woman, trying to seduce her, and had told me instead that he was going to see a number of old friends and family, I would castrate him. He allowed as how that was probably true. Maybe he does know me. Maybe the word "girlfriend" means something different to him; in fact I'm almost sure it does. But if some dude were my boyfriend, that implies that I have the exclusive use of his cock, and I tend to be possessive about these things.
As for the not into kink, that is highly unfortunate, because I think he'd be really good at it. And I think I would like it a lot. But his loss. Me, I'll stay kinky, please and thank you.
So basically, I will never, ever date this man. He's an amoral, selfish and kinkless bastard, with some really interesting vocabulary. But he's fun to hang out with. There is certainly no sin in that.
Monday, July 03, 2006
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1 comment:
I hate when they're fun, but essentially bad news.
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