Monday, July 25, 2005

A missing species

I know vacations are supposed to be really good but honestly after not working for 2 weeks, I learned a few very important things about myself:

1. When my time is not occupied, I become incredibly alcoholic. Instead of spending my time in London and in NYC going to museums and expanding myself culturally, I ran exhorbant bar tabs in numerous bars and ate in expensive restaurants. Suffice to say, that I am going broke.

2. I actually enjoy work.

When I went to work this morning (at my new and very cool company), I was actually excited. Think about it. I do the exact same shit at home, read the news online, IM my friends, and check my email repeatedly, except I get paid and since I have to be at the office by 9am, it ensures that I will not be out drinking until 2am.

This past weekend was just one such example of how out of control I become when I do not have work/responsibilities/give into peer pressure when I have out of town friends visiting me. On Fri night we go to the bar that Lu and I have nicknamed the "gravy train bar." Since the average age of the male patrons is about 45, they get very excited when cute young women sit and chat them up. So Lu and I have been hyping this bar up to our non-NYC friends. Telling them how we walk in and immeadiately we are innundated with not only men offering to buy us drinks, but men picking up entire bar tabs and smoking expensive cigars with us (of course their treat). We decide to bring our friends from out of town who are not used to such ostintasious decadent behavior from older men hitting on us youngins. First we get seated in a corner and no men are talking to us. It kind of sucks, especially since drinks are like $14 a piece and none of us are I-bankers. So then Lu gets this idea to move to the bar...and wouldnt you know, 2 older (like mid 60s) men start to talk to us, find us "dollys" cute, and they proceed to tell our friend Kate that "Don't worry, your entire tab is on us." Well with that type of Carte Blanche, my fucking martini glass does not know the word empty.

The guys talk to us about hunting, civil war history, what-fucking-ever. I am getting drunk on their dime and they are enjoying our company. I see snarly baldy (who I wrote about in the sexless escort post), and he begins to hit on me, as he is with this semi-attractive woman. As an aside, I love this bar because since I am the youngest thing there by like 20 years, I could walk in wearing a behive and a mumu and still get hit on. One of the older guys, gramps (he looks exactly like my dead granpa), saves me, by whisking me away to dance to some old skool jazz. As the night progresses, we want the party to continue so the 2 older guys suggest that we go back to their law office. 4 girls in their mid 20s and 2 guys in their 60s go up to an office in midtown manhattan, and the security guard in the building turns a blind eye. It makes me realize that when I am older and married and if my husband has a night security guard, I am sooo putting the guard on a private payroll to tell me if my husband is fucking around with women half my age.

We go to the law office, and we sit as the old guys hit on us, I am drinking 25 yr old single malt scotch as my friend is picking up Cuban cigars.

I fucking love NYC.

Although, I was flying high on Fri night, looking hot in a pair of Seven jeans and stilletos, Sat night shatttered my self-esteem. I realized, on Sat, that out of my friends in NYC that I am a fucking dinosaur of singlehood. During the summer, the city of one night stands pairs off 2 by 2, like members of Noah's Ark. And I am the loan singleton, at the back of the line...the last of a dying breed. And all I have to show for summer lovin' is a bad one night stand in London and finding out that the guy who I had this horrible horrible thing for (like I fell hard...the woman with no feelings suddenly found them) HOOKS UP WITH MEN. Now I know I wrote about this in my last post, but I truly want you, my reader, to understand the magnitude of this. My entire life I spent pining after gay men. Falling hard, only to find out that we shared one very important thing in enjoyment of getting fucked by men. Not exactly the thing I want to have in common with my soulmate, the man who will father my children. Imagine my suprise, when I thought I found someone who I incredibly clicked with THINKING THAT HE WAS STRAIGHT...hooks up with boys. I'm sorry, I think I should have been notified BEFORE I was fucked, before I found out that I have to wait 6months from the date that we fucked before I could give blood!

I got over the heartbreak. You can't ask someone to fall in love with you, especially when you are such completely different people. Especially when you both share a love of men.

It's just that this experience has confirmed my deepest fear, that is why I am having issues. I am going to end up as one of those stories where the husband "suddenly realizes" that he is gay. It confirms that I am only attracted to gay men. So, being activists kate and are working on a non-profit- Preventing women being used as beards since 2005. I think it has a nice tone to it.

On a side note, I really like my new job.


At 10:12 AM, Blogger katie said...

"with that type of Carte Blanche, my fucking martini glass does not know the word empty..."

That pretty much sums it up, dolly.


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