Wednesday, December 14, 2011

The Night of the Bad Judgements

I was just thinking of leaving the club where I was having the company Christmas party, to move on solo to another place, where I could make better use of the alcohol in my system, when my phone rang.

"I am bored"
"Where are you?"
"In ClubWhite. I am bored"
"Good. I am in ClubBlue. Company party. Also bored"
"Come here"
"I will not come there. I will meet you in the street." by this time it is downing on me that even if I am bit over tipsy, the girl is totally bombed.
"Noooo.... Come here"
"No. If you want to see me, I will be downstairs in ten minutes"
"Ok"

So I left ClubBlue, not to go to ClubRed for playing the lone wolf, but to go see a (probably) totally drunk girl.

Bad judgement.

This went against my rule of staying away from girls who are past the "just a bit over tipsy" point. Yea, I could have slept with so many more women if I did not have that rule, but I also could have slept with that many more women if I would lie to them that I am spanish... Choices, whose price I happily pay. 

...

I arrive at ClubWhite. It is 2 A.M. I had a long work day, and am coming from a party that started at 6 P.M., with lots of wine, vodka, and brandy.

It takes her another five minutes to find her way out of the club and I see her coming out of the door.

The probably smashed part turned into totally smashed.

This girl has been partying like there is no tomorrow, and now came out without a jacket. Uh-uh.

"Come iiiiiin"
"No."
"Please"
"No. I told you I will not come in."
"Gimme a hug"
I give her a half assed hug with one arm
"Gimme two arms."
"Not as long as you are in the club"
"..."
"..."
"I will take my jacket and be back in five"
"Ok"

Bad judgement.

Should have said my goodnights and gone to ClubRed. There must have been still some non.smashed girls left in that venue.

...

She comes with her jacket on.

"I am drunk, tired, and hungry" I say
"Me too"
"Come" I say taking her towards my place.
"No. I want to go to my place" she says...
This time I lose the standoff.

We start walking towards her place. The opposite direction of mine.

Bad judgement.

My way or the highway turned into "My way. No? Ok.",

...

I am not drunk anymore, but a speedy hangover is hitting me because I had stopped drinking around 12.

Dead tired.

Hungry as a bear out of hibernation. All the fast carbs served at the party does that.

Damn. All the taxi stops are queued up to 20 meters.

We are walking a distance that would take me 10 minutes on my own, but with her walking speed, it seems it will take us 20 minutes... Fuck. My dress shoes are not helping.

"Why are you such an asshole" she asks,
I was thinking about "Cause you are such a bitch" , but with this girl that would be like dropping a nuke in front of my face, so I just smirked and shrugged.

We come to a hot dog stand.

I have had enough crap for the night, I step away, look at the people walking.

She asks for a double hot dog, but I don't see her looking for any money in her purse. I turn away.

She comes with a hot dog in her hand,

"I just smiled to him" she says,

Now I am expecting the asian Hot Dog dude come running out with a katana, but it never happened.

We continue walking, she trying to eat the hotdog while walking in is she is trying to draw S's on the street.

Bad judgement.

Should have left and gone home. She is a big girl, independent and strong and all that shit, and the way she treated the hot dog man should have told me that I am next in line.

...

The girl is eating the hotdog, I am walking a meter in front of her. At this point pissed, but too tired to think straight. Only thing I can think is she got food in the fridge, and her place is now closer than mine.

Ploffff....

A black shadow falls down beside me.

I think it is the girl, then as I bend down to help, some guy is digging his face out of a hotdog on the floor, his face fully covered in mustard, not wanting help, and getting up on all fours.

The girl appears beside me

"I feel so bad now", takes another bite off the hotdog
"He is ok" I say, trying to figure what happened
"I think I hit him"
"Just walk" I say realizing what done is done.

The guy continues walking, finds soem tissue paper on the street, wipes his face, and continues walking.

Damn bad luck.

Walking when you are happy that at least you managed to get a hot dog in the night, finding yourself on the ground one eighty. The guy fell like a tree to his front.

But,

Damn good luck,

That he had a hotdog to fall on. Without that, it would easily have been a broken nose and a call to 112 (911).

The fact that the girl just "felt bad", but no attempt to help...

We continue walking...

Bad judgement.

It is easy: "I feel bad. Going home. Good night"... What? My chivalry kicked in for a smashed girl who smashed other guys to the ground? Damn me. I don't make mistakes like this.

But I admit. The main reason is the flag. I wanted to be able to say "I did a..."... Yes. Yes. Degenerate lowlife loser. Whatever.

...

We arrive at her door.

Yes! We made it! I can eat and sleep! In all sincerety, having sex was not on my mind anymore.

She finds her keys, and sees her own hand.

Puts the ring finger out.

"Oh, I am married"

You shitting me? I have known this girl for five months or so. Met her three four times in that time, never for a date, always occasionally, and now she says she is married?

Must be a joke.

She opens the door, I guide her in, we walk up.

5 effing floors.

So, I thought she was joking.

She opens her house door, we go in.

"It is a mess, I had the girls over this evening" she says, just when I spot size 45 mens dress shoes on the floor.

WTF? Ok, maybe the "girls" includes one gay guy...

I take of my jacket, and spot some men's jacket on the hanger.

Girl goes to bed, I go to fridge.

Girl passes out. I stand there stupid. The fridge is empty.

The clothing closet is open,. I look inside, there men's stuff.

Damn... There was a second name on the door, and there is only one bed in the apartment.

She was saying the truth.

Oh, and now is a picture with her and a handsome man.

So why was I never cockblocked by her various friends when we were on full flirt mode? When we kissed etc? Must be seperated or something.

The girl is snoring. All clothes on, shoes on.

"Do not undress her to put her to bed. No." I think to myself. If she wakes up and does not remember, she has to have all her clothes on.

The only good judgement of the night.

...

I am tired.

I was drunk. Now am hungover. Dead tired.

It is 3 A.M. no taxis at this time.

My feet are killing me.

Her friends were ok with me previously leaving the bar with her, so the guy must be out of the picture.

Her friend this eve was ok with her leaving with me, so the guy definitely must be away at least tomorrow.

The couch looks good.

Really good.

I pull my overcoat over me, and fall asleep.

Bad judgement.

Sleeping on the couch in a married woman's house? WTF?

...

I sleep straight 7 hours. It is ten, I open my eyes. Go to the loo, trip over some hair spray can with a lound bang.

Go back to the couch when I hear her start to move.

I hear her get up. My eyes are closed. She needs to see me sleeping with my suit on.

She stumble up, and I hear her utter

"Johnny????" Apparently the husbands name.... With a concerned voice..

Then

"Oh"

Then

"Did I sleep with my clothes on?"

I hear her unzipping her dawn jacket, take off her clothes and climb into bed.

Immediately she fells asleep.

I get up, get dressed. And leave.

At the moment that I closed her door I realized the biggest bad judgement of the night.

Damn man,

You have a smart phone. It has a camera.

Would it be so difficult to film yourself, then the girl on the bed and then you getting dressed, and closing the door behind you with the girl still sleeping safe in bed?

You fucking moron.

All the bad judgements of the night do not even scratch the surface of this last big fuckup.

Fucking bad judgement.

Always, always cover your ass.

Voice recorder, camcorder, even gps. Use technology in the time when rape has pretty much turned into "She says".



2 comments:

  1. Jheesh Finn, it's been a bit since I've checked into your blog but my goodness this is just too much. Perhaps chivalry is not dead, it's just taken on a new face: that of the man who will not tread upon another's marriage vows for the sake of gratification.

    Once the wedding ring came out, bail. Just bail; it cannot end well. I am not sure of your particular ethnic or political heritage, but I think marriage is a somewhat universal concept that says that unless you have a spouse's explicit permission to f*ck his/her spouse, you should just leave when you hear the word "husband (or wife)."

    I'm American, female, and becoming more traditional as the days pass. I could not imagine behaving as your temporary paramour did. Why do you put yourself in these situations? They seem to cause you much consternation. The anxiety does not outweigh the immediate gratification of a sexual experience, if what I'm reading from your experiences is accurate.

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  2. Like I said, it was a collections of bad judgements, stemming from having been drunk for the better part of the night, having crashed due to having stopped drinking, tiredness, dress shoes that hit my feet, no taxis in sight etc...

    And up to that point I had good indicators that she was single, and separated from her ex for good;

    It is like a single snowball of a mistake leading into an avalanche of mistakes.

    And yea, you make the point, "Ring comes out, pecker stays in"...

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