Not sure what just happened…
February 12, 2014 § Leave a comment
Alright, it is pretty evident that I have been on a bit of a dry streak. After dating the same girl for so many years, I was never in a position where I needed to seek “intimacy.” Overtly speaking, sex was readily and easily obtainable. Life after J, I am now in a place where I actually have to be more proactive with this. It’s far from a thrilling experience and I would be remiss if I didn’t say that I do long for the easy days of being in a relationship in this particular aspect. My dry streak isn’t the result of anything, but a lack of effort and one other thing. I am incredibly picky. I don’t know why, and for the life of me I would prefer if I were not so fastidious, but that does not look like its going to change anytime soon. As a guy in his prime, I can afford to be less selective. This epiphany was not the result of self-reflection. In fact, I was out with my sister and her friend and some how this topic came up, and my sister eloquently said, “for my brother, getting any is not the problem, he just prefers quality over quantity.” In translation: He’s picky.
On a Friday afternoon after work, I went out for a celebratory drink. I was meeting friends later in the evening for dinner, but I really wanted to celebrate at that particular moment. What was I celebrating? I had the opportunity to work autonomously on this massive project and the project ended up being pretty successful. Emails filled my mailbox from managers singing my praises, so I felt pretty good. I ended up at bar, and ordered a drink, and followed up with another. The bar was pretty crowded; there were people sitting to left and the right of me. To my immediate left, there was this woman with what appeared to have been her boyfriend. I had two drinks, it looked like they were well on their fifth or sixth and it was not even the end of happy hour. They were getting pretty hot and heavy in the bar; insane amounts of lip locking. That is pretty normal for NY, but here’s where things get interesting. There I was relishing in my self-grandeur on a job well done, when suddenly I felt something on my left thigh. That woman was rubbing my left thigh (pretty noticeable as I was wearing thin suit slacks. My initial thoughts, “she’s clearly mistaken.” I shifted on my chair and moved my leg away. The hand was no longer there. Not long after, she returns it to my thigh. At this point, I felt she was no longer mistaken. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my sister. “[Provided details of the story] What should I do?” I clearly knew the answer to this, I have no idea why I asked her, but she said, “move.” Well, the bar was crowded and there was no where to move, and damn it, I wanted to finish my Macallan. As I am texting the hand still continued to lingered about my thigh. I sent another text to a friend explaining everything. Her response wasn’t any better: “Dude, join in.” No help there.
I was suffering from a bit of moral conundrum. Do I make a scene and embarrass this woman? I would imagine the guy would be embarrassed as well; I am sure he wouldn’t like the idea of his lady feeling up some other guy as they lip locked at the bar. What would it do to their relationship? On the other hand, I was thinking: well, if I am facilitating this fantasy [albeit a weird one], why not, I am single and I haven’t had a “woman’s touch” in a while; go ahead lady have at it. A bit of quid pro quo, if you will. In fact, the thought of this did make me feel dirty; she could have at least bought me dinner first (or at the very least a drink). In the end, I just sat there. As they were leaving the bar, she turned around and locked eyes with me and just smiled. I am not sure what that meant. Did she know what she was doing? My inclination is that she did.
This was the topic of dinner when I met with my friends. The jury was split on what they would have done in that position. One friend, a girl, said I should have told the boyfriend. “He should know that he girlfriend is feeling up on dudes in the bar while they were kissing.” The gents’ at the table reply, “this was a victimless crime, the boyfriend does not have to know.” My friend, who also broke up with his girlfriend around the same time my relationship ended added, “I could identify here, if you aren’t getting any, why not allow an attractive lady at a bar to use your thigh to live out some fantasy?”
I am not sure what to make of the experience. It was pretty random, despite being on this dry streak, I think I should have just left the bar. In any event, the valuable lesson learned here is not to drink alone during happy hour at any bars south of Midtown.