Propositions

I've been running around at break neck speed of late - the working, sailing, sleeping has basically ate up all my time. I take long lunch breaks to wind down and talk to friends that also work downtown. Last night went to happy hour and finally realized the manager at the wine bar looks like Bradley Cooper - the dark hair, blue eyes, light facial hair. Yummy... however I don't think that's a fish wanting to bite. The interest is there, but the action is not. Oh well.

Interestingly, I think I have a second date with the founder of this gaming company. He announced he was leaving the company to create another company... in LA. So all of a sudden he becomes interesting to me. Ha! But it won't be for a while he said as we sipped drinks at the Forbidden Island last Sunday. I had no idea it was a date at all. He just texted hey, whatsup, etc... next thing I knew we were having drinks at a tiki bar. Then it became dinner. Then we hugged and I went home. And we're gonna meet up again this coming Sunday. Out of the blue. Just like that. He's been very subtle about this interest. I like it.

Then next week I'm supposed to meet up with this scientist dude at Berkeley. Did I mention I was a sucker for blue eyes? He's got beautiful baby blues... But no idea if we'll hit it off or not.

And I got propositioned to be a mistress. By a friend. I'm really torn. I have no desire to be apart of a tawdry affair. Something about the whole thing makes me feel cheap. I don't mind the dirty part of it, I don't mind the discreetness - I prefer all my relationships discreet. Maybe it's the fact that he takes up a lot of my time with dirty talk? I've never been a fan of such things. The act of vulgarity is fine with me, but vulgar talk has always left a sick feeling in my tummy. Last night he wanted some photos. There's something about anybody requesting dirty photos from me that pisses me off. Objectify me in bed, during sex, whatever, but don't fucking think I'm an object when I'm not fucking you. Also, I really don't like talk.

All this thinking led me down an interesting philosophical path... can I have sex with a friend and still remain friends? Yes I can. I've proven it with B. Hell, I'm doing the man's taxes for chrissakes. Therapeutic sex is great. Friendly sex is great. So what is it about this situation that stops me? Is it because he's getting married? Monogamy to me is overrated, but that's me. And there aren't a whole lot of people like me. And I've slept with a married man before. But he was separated at the time. This friend is getting married! What if I was getting paid to do it? What if I were a hooker and got a married john? Well for one, I don't know the john for squat. I do know this guy. And he knows me. It's not anonymous sex. What if he and his soon to be wife were broken up? What if he were single? What if he were someone else? What if, what if... that's how I fell asleep last night.

In the end, it's not the sex that complicates things. It's people and how they treat each other. And that's how I woke up - it's not that he's going to be married, though that does bother me. It wouldn't stop me. It's how he treats me. I'm an object. He wants something from me. He isn't freely giving of himself as a friend. I'm a means to an end. And wait a minute... what am I getting out of this? Sex I can have any time, anywhere. I get business cards and numbers like I'm a convention center. There's no shortage of single or not, available or not men asking me out. I'm not really getting much out of this. Nothing that I can't get from anybody else.