Recently, a friend that shall not be named, found herself in a casual affair situation. Soured by a failed relationship, and flaberghasted by the whole dating scene, she had decided that she did not want entaglements at this time. Surprisingly she found herself within licking distance to a like-minded friend who is very enthusiastic and keeps her exercised without brain getting in the middle.
Such a simple, cheap way to have your cake and eat it too, right?
And that is why she finds herself in this predicament. Compliments on quality of exercises aside, her brain refuses to go away.And it is using her mouth almost without permission.
“I like this guy (it is always a guy) as a friend. I always enjoy talking to him and shooting the breeze so to speak. He is hospitable, generous, nice and generally good in bed. We have been friends for a while. I always hash my dates with him and he gives me good suggestions. He is compatible in many ways, but also incompatible in many others. I cannot handle his obdurance for example, nor his “elite” mentality. I am not as intolerant with things. I know he does not understand why I like romance novels and we do not do well on political candidates.
I think the reason why this is good, is because we can walk away from each-other without having to change what we don’t like. It is ok as it is because it is just something easy breezy casual with a friend. Just a variation of beer night without the extra calories. A stress release. A good workout without the gym fees.”
She stops to breathe. I can hear her but… a mile away….wait for it, wait for it…here it comes:
“But he never comes places when I invite him somewhere. And I do because it seems crass to just say at 9PM, hey can I show on your doorstep by 11.00? I mean we are friends, we are ok to hang out together like before. But he says no. And then when he tells me to come over, I accomodate him. Do you think I shouldn’t? Do you think I should say no to him once? But then it is going to be too long before we get together. I mean get together together (Wink Wink)
And I don’t mind keeping this casual but not that casual. I need to have dates, times, so I can do some self-maintenance too. Not everyone sleeps with a razor in hand and tweezers in the purse. I have a bunch of disposable toothbrushes too. And other things…All because he will only tell me to come over at 11 when it is already 9 and it is a weeknight. And then I don’t know, should I stay over, should I wait until he falls asleep, should i skeedaddle as soon as we are done? it seems kind of crass to do that. And we both like morning nookie. I mean it is obvious.”
I don’t know what the ettiquete is in this case.I look into my drink for inspiration, but it is a bit out of my expertise. I could tell her she is already caring too much about this man. If things are that casual, she should not care whether her stubble will scratch him when he gives her such short notice. Women cannot be expected to be on high alert all the time, can they?
As a matter of fact, that is exactly what we thirty something single women are, on high alert at any time, driving our thoughts at warp speed on a downward spiral, toting purses with every possible miniature utensil inside for emergency maintenance, stressing and fretting and concentrating our minds on useless things. I could tell her to relax but what is the point? I would go nuts in her situation too. Anxious to please, but careful to not crack appearances, bombarded by studies that tell us how our fertility years are almost gone, our babies will almost be freaks, our men will certainly leave us for younger women, just as their left their wives for us, our jobs giving us less pay because they can, our lives targets for everyone they can see etc etc.
We contemplate in silence for a while. She really does not need my opinion, just to vent.
“I caught myself calling him to dish about him – she finally says. -Wouldn’t that be something?”
Yeah, that would be something. So my friend and I mourn the loss of the friend and celebrate the start of the casual affair. Perhaps the trade won’t be that bad. Perhaps the worry, nail biting and compulsive eyebrow tweezing will be overshadowed by easy laughter, easy conversation and successful horizontal dances.
And if anything fails, there is always vodka and me.