“Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers”
“Streetcar Named Desire” Tennessee Williams
Did you know Blanche was schizophrenic? I did. It takes one to know one.
I got some shit going on, man. The least of which is meeting more schizo’s. Which happened this morning. Maybe. Maybe she met me?
What the fuck am I doing? I know the super awesome person I met last week is coming over again tomorrow to flood my room with sex, so why am I trying to get laid all week? Cause I don’t know why this shit happens! While I was typing whatever I pounded out last night, I got a message on Bumble. (The definitely not a hookup site) It said, “Is it too soon or too cold to meet for Iced coffee?” It was a reference to my joke about getting hot coffee thrown in my face. Who the hell is this? (I didn’t say that) I said something acceptable. Next message she invites me to coffee at The Goat Restaurant and Whiskey Bar, a few miles from me at the beach. I said I can’t start drinking at 9am. She said they have brunch. Okay but I don’t drive I have to take Uber. She ask me if there is anything in Seabrook. I felt lame because there is nothing. I didn’t ask her but she said she is not picking up a stranger we can meet at Dunkin and sit on the bumper and drink coffee and talk. Okay. We talked time and it worked. Everything works for me. I guess. I was texting someone else and typing my blog when she asked me so I didn’t think about it. I sent her a message, I’m not going to make you meet me in a fucking parking lot! You know Linda’s? I will meet you there. Breakfast, diner or booths. Oh yes, I love diners, good coffee, good food, good people. 10am. Set.
Now I’m talking to who? Oh yeah, the broad that kept me posted on her movements all day Saturday even though I wasn’t answering her because I told everyone I was taking off for the day, would love to talk later. Yeah, we talked later, very later. Then I fucked up. We were talking about meeting and I said I don’t drive. She disappeared. It happens a lot and I usually blow it off but it bothers me. I never say anything because I understand but I just got abused by a woman earlier in the day. We were talking for a while she started out first thing bitching how much dating sites suck. I said, “You know what I love about you? Your infectious positive attitude!” Then she loved me. But she’s still bitching about guys she meets on dating sites and one thing was guys don’t drive. (That’s me) Bitching she don’t wanna be a taxi, give him money, etc… I didn’t like her anyway so I ghosted.
Meanwhile, I was getting along so well with the woman from 2am (I know their names) until I told her I don’t drive. I liked her and I understand so I don’t know why I lashed out when she disappeared. I know why. It was the woman from earlier in the day. Transference. I wasn’t scathing. But I was upset and sent a message like, I am dating site gold until I say I can’t drive. What do I do? Advertise all my negatives and never talk to anyone? All I want to do is have fun, we were having fun. I don’t want to depend on anyone. I don’t want you to be my taxi, etc…I ranted a good paragraph and went to bed.
I woke up late Sunday morning not remembering the woman who wanted to take me “to the next whiskey bar”. I texted her can you give me an extra half hour? Yes, no problem. Thank you! I will be there. Then I noticed I had a message from the woman I lashed at and I felt like a a total piece of shit. She said thanks for making me feel like an asshole for falling asleep, we all have our issues. Horrible! I told her I am sorry, it was a me problem, I should not have made it a you problem.
Where am I? Oh yeah, confluence of events. I woke up late to meet the woman at Linda’s, texted an apology to the woman I really liked. That is why I got so upset, because I liked her. The fucking whiskey woman says no problem. But I’m still thinking I’m an asshole.
I show up at Linda’s and see her at the door Surprising because there are a ton of people and I am not good at recognizing people. I walked straight up and leaned close and said , ” Excuse me, do you happen to know of a woman named K—? She is infatuated! Why? I apologize because I didn’t know there would be a wait to get in on the weekend. But at least it is better than meeting in the dunk parking lot, right? Okay. She’s manic too. Or nervous or hyper, she said something about adhd. I don’t know. She won’t let me talk. I don’t care. She is entertaining. She was really hyper. I said sorry, put my name on the list they said 20 minutes. She had to be off by noon. I don’t know. No where to go. Might as well stay here right. Actually fortuitous we got a booth in the back corner. She took the seat with her back to the wall, then offered it to me in case I like to have my back to the wall. I do prefer to have my back to the wall but I said, “Ladies choice”.
She was impressed that I had banter, but she never shut up. I didn’t have a chance to banter. I did but not really. Too much too type. She kept saying she saying, I know this is not what you are supposed to say on a first date, that’s why I never get any second dates. I told her to relax, she is fine. She was very intelligent, well educated, opinionated. Things I like in a woman. But she was unknowingly casting dispersion on me. She didn’t know anything about me except my stupid jokes on my profile. She keeps ranting, she is sick of dealing with alcoholics, sick of dealing with alcoholics. Is this a good time for me to mention I’m an alcoholic? Probably not. But we had the coffee and the eggs and sat there for 2 hours. (well past the time she said she had to leave) She keeps telling me I am the best date she has ever met and I’m thinking, everything but I can’t tell you I’m an alcoholic. We had nothing in common but alcoholic families. At the end she pulls her phone and says she wants to give me her real name and number, what do I do? I don’t want to tell her I like her but we but who the fuck am I? Okay. She lives 2 hours away! What is she doing sending me a message to meet here? And she was super careful. She told me she writes a blog that was supposed to be stories about her life but turned into hyperpolitical covid posts. She was a Trumper. But we still had a lot in common. She wanted to tell me her blog but said I would probably neverr talk to her again. Same with me. I did not mention my blog. I don’t think she would like to read about how I wrote a post while I was black out drunk.
Stop! Walking home, a mess. Pull out my phone and text the woman I made feel bad. Apologized again. Said, I’m not trying to take it back, I can’t take it back. I’m not trying to repair it. I don’t want you to reply, you were very kind I was an asshole.
I got home feeling like shit and wanted to write a evil blog. But logged on and saw all kinds of love for my stupid poem and an email from someone special. Really turned my head around. Okay,okay, mellow… The woman I hung out with yesterday is texting me. Now I really feel like a piece of shit because she is in love with me. I don’t pretend I’m looking for a serious relationship to trick women into having sex with me. I make it a point to be unserious. I’m toxic. But Friday she putt me in a trance on the phone talking about what she wanted to do. She didn’t say sex, But of course it was going to lead to sex. I didn’t care. I was in a trance listening to her talk about things women don’t do anymore. Going slow, face to face , tracing fingers, giving tingles, softly kissing, All tthe shit I love but I’m not in love. Friday night she insisted we were not going to have sex. (Did I believe that)
I put no pressure. The plan was to get beach pizza at the beach and meet and greet. Ostensibly, that was the plan. I knew that was not the plan. It was… We ate beach pizza and she asked, What now? Back to your place? Okay. Back at my place. We did all we talked about and more. I’m thinking, I love all this shit but that doesn’t mean I’m in love. It was a snuggle fuck. Of course I figured but I was content with the closeness. That is what put me in a trance on the phone. We didn’t talk about sex. I knew we would have sex. I didn’t care. I’m not attracted to her sexually. But fully dressed in bed. Not talking. Face to face. Fingers trace. I’m feeling it. I got the chills. Oxytocin, right, you know. But then her hand keeps slipping below my belt. Okay, from the person who doesn’t do booty calls. Did I say please don’t brush your fingers lightly across my cock? Do you want to use your imagination or would you like to use my imagination? I don’t know? When women has her hands below my belt and says maybe my pants are in the way? What is left to the imagination. She was pretty fucking adventurous for someone who says they have never hooked up before.
What the fuck is going on? The psycho breakfast bitch that needs Ritalin. I think I’m repeating myself. That is the wrong thing to say. She is a good person. I am the psycho breakfast bitch that needs Ritalin.
No, no, no… My phone is blowing up. I”m responding. Since I’m on there I might as well do a little swiping right? No. My dream girl from last Monday already texted me she wants to come over Monday Today is Monday! She texted me yesterday. That was my whole fucking point! All I had to do was relax and wait until Monday and have fantastic sex. Why am I trying to hook up with every woman n the planet? I’m all fucked up. It’s fucking 4am and I’m hoping my phone buzzes. I was right, the woman I cuddled (snugglefucked) Saturday, OMG, that seems like a year ago. She is in love with everything about me. She doesn’t know about me. But I want to do that again. I can’t do that again. We had a hookup and she thinks it’s a relationship.
It’s Monday now. that is all I was waiting for. Around 1am everyone went to bed. I still felt likd fucking dirt. It’s the woman I made feel bad. I typed her a long message. No excuses, No explanation. Just an apology. She is super kind, I’m a dirt bag. I never should have done that. I don’t want you to reply. Delete me.
Please Delete Me… Please Delete Me…