The good, the bad and the ugly

I need to settle down. I saw three different women over the weekend. Had drinks at Von Haus and then dessert at the European with the first one Friday night. On Saturday morning I had a dreary cup of coffee with the second. And then on Saturday night I had dinner etc with the third at a local Indian restaurant.

There are none that I would consider to be long term options. Friday was pleasant and quite taken with me, but while I had a nice enough time I didn’t feel the necessary spark. Saturday morning was a drag because we come from different galaxies. Saturday night was an earthy, sexual woman whose company I enjoy, but I can’t see much more than a friendship coming out of it long-term.

To add to the general confusion I was chatting to a very alluring and interesting woman on Friday night before I had to dash off. Another time I would have suggested moving our conversation to a more intimate venue, a suggestion she seemed open to. Typically that was not possible. She’s still around though, so won’t rule it out.

After the activity of the days preceding I had a quiet Sunday. Towards the end of the day I found myself casting back to recent events. I sighed wondering why it was so hard. For a few misguided moments I thought wistfully of the girls who could have been, wondering why I couldn’t make any of them stick and thinking how much easier if I had.

I reflected on a couple of other little things that seemed indicative of something more. Last week I met with a bloke who presumed I was a father. It was not worth correcting him so I let it go, but it troubled me. I felt classified, categorised, pigeon-holed and somehow reduced to that single point of difference – which is really something very common. I was surprised to find how much it offended me. I look forward to being a dad, I expect to love it, but…

Similarly I got talking to this girl at a work function Friday. I sought her out having been put onto her by a mutual friend. We got talking and it was good and more than a platonic chat between colleagues. She knew and I knew and I wondered how that was communicated so simply. I was in the game, she knew it and was receptive to it. Then I went back to my colleagues – the consultants – and they looked at me as if I was their champion and I didn’t like that either.

Man you do things, you bounce around from one thing to another, from one experience to the next, often ricocheting unpredictably like a pinball in a machine. I often figure that my professional life is pretty well plotted out even if it doesn’t often go to plan, but that my personal life is pretty random. In the end I assume, without judgement, that the blame for much of that is me (though in general it seems a male failing).

I wonder how it is that wherever I go and without saying a word everyone knows that I’m in the game. I like to flirt sure, but that’s pretty harmless. Saturday night gave me an unexpected insight into that. I don’t think it’s the whole story, but it might be part of it. She said I was cool, cooler than most and pretty well everyone else my age. I look and act young, I dress pretty hip, have a groovy haircut and cool glasses and have the general attitude and posture of someone confident and in control. Well to be honest I probably would have thought most of that was pretty true, but I had never considered the impression this makes on other people. I guess it brands me, something my sister confirmed yesterday.

That’s not all of it though. I think there is something in the way you look and how you carry yourself, an edge born of curiosity and desire that is somehow communicated whenever there is not anyone to satisfy that.

End of day you are what you are, no matter how you get pigeon-holed. That’s the trick I guess. Can’t change what’s happened and can’t do much more than influence what people think of you. As they say, you just keep on keeping on.

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