I did not plan it that way. It was to be just two friends, having dinner, addressing non-amorous issues.
Night starts well, except maybe for the waiter denying me my choice, twice, until I settle on fish goulash. Thank Heavens fish are not made out of cheese!
She is going through a rough patch and I am trying to comfort her. Animo! for everything is going to be alright before she knows it. It is just another hurdle that she has got to clear. Advise her against making rash decisions; no drastic decision on her part is needed right now –just let things run their course no matter how bitter.
Me on the other hand, I tell her it is on me to make a change in my life, to make decisions. I let her in on my much publicized plans. She says change is well and good but what if moving does not bring the sought after effect in my life? Whatever it is that is missing in my life, why can’t I focus on achieving it where I am, instead of leaving it to kilometers and new surroundings to do the work?
Why don’t I try to change myself instead of hopping from place to place?
I tend to muddle things up in all facets of my life. I hardly give satisfying answers to the easiest of questions. What makes this even more difficult is that she has got the potential to be part of the answer. So the way I do whenever such questions are hurled my way, I equivocate.
“Is there something preventing you from…”
Is she asking if I was gay?
I tell her about this killer classification of sexual preferences which I came across recently: hetero-, homo-, bi-, trisexual (as in those people who are trying to have sex) I fall in the last group. But my problem is double-layered. I am not very good at (it is an over exaggeration; which way, take a guess) telling girls that I like them. And even if I succeed in overcoming that, then comes the little issue of that the girl may end up hurt because when I said I liked her, I was not being totally honest (with her and myself) and I was only after that thing.
She says there is little chance the girl is going to get hurt if both of them talk it through and know full well what they are getting themselves into. If there is attraction then …
Did I say that she is looking particularly ravishing this evening? And no, I am not drunk.
Some more equivocation; statements like “for example, you and me, we are friends, sister and brother… would you say that there is attraction between us? …” and then it came.
Damn you one! It should not be such a hard thing to do!
Yet it was hard.
I am putting all my cards on the table. On second thoughts, that is not such a good idea because something from down under is threatening to topple the table and… What I am trying to say is me so horny; let’s blow this place and get a room. Jonz in my bonz baby!
Are you asking me for …
It seems everyone from my mother to my students (as inferred from this year’s crop of comments) is not a fan of meselegne, meselegne 😀
Is you crazy?! I would never say that to a girl!
I am more like that person who would beat around the bush, deliver a treatise on sex and its evolving role in human interactions since prehistoric times, when it was used as a means of holding down a man who can be trusted to bring in the meat every night; and ask a girl to join me in a dance of life, a tradition, that has started so long ago that it would be a damn shame and plain rude to refuse to partake in; and no, in the case of humans, in this day and age, it does not have to be a tool for the mere perpetuation of the species and it can go a long way in brightening up the days and nights of a lonely boy who is going through postpartum depression owing to the end of classes and his kids being on break. He has got a hankering for some action because he returns back to the humdrum life of taking care of yet another batch real soon.
I did neither. Nor do I have a clear recollection of the bullshit I spewed. A clear recollection demands that things be done and said in a clear manner in the first place. And like I tried to point out earlier, I don’t do clear.
But I clearly remember me asking her if we could spend the night together and she saying “not tonight’’. I could have acted a fool and pursued the matter like “how about tomorrow? the day after? is next week good for you? TSom sifeta? Meche new, zare new nege new…? Cuando cuando cuando girl?!” Pull out a calendar and start marking dates and shit.
(In every version of the story, it has been decided that it is better to buy the condoms from the store next to the place where I am going to lay her down, Usher voice. I left the condoms I bought for good luck at home, because they did not seem to bring luck. Funny story: the vender must have me on associate; at another time, I was asking him for Crest toothpaste and he handed me Hiwot Trust.)
But I opted to safe face; give the impression of someone who has taken rejection in his stride. I declare that this was exactly the reason why I am loath to doing this; that men and women look for different things in a sexual encounter (Whoa whoa whoa! Speaking for the entire male species now are you?!) She assuages my expressed fear that this won’t put a blemish on our friendship (or brotherly sisterly relationship was it?) I try to make light of the situation by asking her to rate the skills exhibited in my sexual advances toward her. She gives me 51/100 (good enough, if you are trying to take control of a board of directors 😉 tells me to work on clarity. She thought I was talking about global warming. I concede to her, given that I spend eight days a week in school, my game could use a little polishing, sharpening, overhaul, tearing down and reconstruction, … (Now you are just a disgrace to the species!)
She had been in a relationship which reached a cul-de-sac. Now she has decided to put a hold on relationships indefinitely. She fears disease and unplanned pregnancy (condoms, hello!) and believes that the Lord frowns upon casual (Oh well)
It is getting late and I tell her that we can leave –in five minutes; I had to put in order my affairs down south. It took a minute.
Later, over a cold shower, I would be pondering the possibility of me slipping on the wet floor, hurting my something, and her being consumed by regret when someone breaks the news to her (because I won’t be able to move by then): it was her fault that I was in the cold instead of inside of her.
Get out of the shower and I find a missed call from her. Hypotheses abound. Decide to call her in the morning because she would be asleep by now.
Next morning: she wanted to check if I had arrived home safe. Of course.
The long and short of it is I got shot down miserably and it felt bood.