my idea of second thoughts
PS - I guess those girls were kinda interested in me. I guess they just expected I would make some first big loud move. Yu know, I think it was the preening girl in the chemise who also, the other day, stood up in real short shorts, so I could see her lovely white skinny girl-fat legs all shining in the cruel library fluorescents - while outside the cold grey wind blew all life away into stone hollows. People here are hard to figure out, sometimes. Are these girls fantasizing about having away-from-the-farm flings with quite-a-bit-older men? They don't say anything, and are really averse to making eye contact - which I normally require.
But, after this preening, stripper girl left, the darker haired girl, with her back to me, stayed behind, doing a few little this-or-that tasks. Maybe some serious homework in there, but not a lot of it. Instead, she was making these moves where, very guardedly, her body language was clearly making her available to me - for at least some overt, friendly comment. And I won't bother describing all those moves because I am as tired as a bald-faced liar.. But, the real clincher came when I started to get ready to leave. Seeing this - so did she. And she stood there, in front of me, as I stood donning a scarf or something. She was just looking down or looking away, almost in that pissed, disappointed wife kinda way.
I think she, especially, just wanted to have some fun on a Saturday night, but was never trained in how to accomplish this, or she - idk... I smell the pot pie...
Anyway, prob;em was, I was more inteested in going home and curling up with some ketchuppy oven fries, and going to sleep for three days, than for asking her if she likse beer, ha ha. Or et into discussing anything and ending up outside a movie theatre. Because, I just feel sooo damn tired!!!!!!!!!! Nothing personal. But I feel like I am getting 5 years older every day. For the first time, I was BETTER than than the day before - but not enough to throw a college girl on my apartment floor and force Cabernet down her taunting, laughing throat. That's almost that LAST thing my body wants. It's terrible being me.
And - this town is almost exclusively college kids and very old people. And there is almost NO agism going on here, or it's ALL agism. How freely the two gaping generations have polite and engaged intercourse is amazing to me. And I know that some of the girls are "dating" men much older than me. I don't understand it. Does everyone immediately realise what MUST be done, in order for the species to survive? Or where most of these girls raised by abusive pedophiles, and that's all they know>
idk. Gradual introductories is fine with me. I am sorry if that girl was expecting something more from me, but, on the other hand, it seemed like she also really didn't know what she wanted, or expected, or was looking for - or even what sex was. Maybe there are a lot of this sort, brooding through their lonely adolescent days, mulling through bodice-rippers until the covers dropped off. Or maybe its internet port. Or all the boys are ou milking the cows, I believe the saying is. It's sad and silly. If I was the non-sick me, I would have had some great approach or blow-off I would have come up with. But, if I dared tried to start any conversation with her, probably the only words that woul leave my dour lips would have been, "...broccoli..."
Will my hell never end??
And why would I even want to hook up in a dysfunctional state. When everything else that has happened to me, in my life, has done nothing but kill me, over and over again. Until I walk around like some grungy, mime of a Morrissey lugging about some gigantic crusifix? Now, if that ain't Goth, I don't know what is.
But, after this preening, stripper girl left, the darker haired girl, with her back to me, stayed behind, doing a few little this-or-that tasks. Maybe some serious homework in there, but not a lot of it. Instead, she was making these moves where, very guardedly, her body language was clearly making her available to me - for at least some overt, friendly comment. And I won't bother describing all those moves because I am as tired as a bald-faced liar.. But, the real clincher came when I started to get ready to leave. Seeing this - so did she. And she stood there, in front of me, as I stood donning a scarf or something. She was just looking down or looking away, almost in that pissed, disappointed wife kinda way.
I think she, especially, just wanted to have some fun on a Saturday night, but was never trained in how to accomplish this, or she - idk... I smell the pot pie...
Anyway, prob;em was, I was more inteested in going home and curling up with some ketchuppy oven fries, and going to sleep for three days, than for asking her if she likse beer, ha ha. Or et into discussing anything and ending up outside a movie theatre. Because, I just feel sooo damn tired!!!!!!!!!! Nothing personal. But I feel like I am getting 5 years older every day. For the first time, I was BETTER than than the day before - but not enough to throw a college girl on my apartment floor and force Cabernet down her taunting, laughing throat. That's almost that LAST thing my body wants. It's terrible being me.
And - this town is almost exclusively college kids and very old people. And there is almost NO agism going on here, or it's ALL agism. How freely the two gaping generations have polite and engaged intercourse is amazing to me. And I know that some of the girls are "dating" men much older than me. I don't understand it. Does everyone immediately realise what MUST be done, in order for the species to survive? Or where most of these girls raised by abusive pedophiles, and that's all they know>
idk. Gradual introductories is fine with me. I am sorry if that girl was expecting something more from me, but, on the other hand, it seemed like she also really didn't know what she wanted, or expected, or was looking for - or even what sex was. Maybe there are a lot of this sort, brooding through their lonely adolescent days, mulling through bodice-rippers until the covers dropped off. Or maybe its internet port. Or all the boys are ou milking the cows, I believe the saying is. It's sad and silly. If I was the non-sick me, I would have had some great approach or blow-off I would have come up with. But, if I dared tried to start any conversation with her, probably the only words that woul leave my dour lips would have been, "...broccoli..."
Will my hell never end??
And why would I even want to hook up in a dysfunctional state. When everything else that has happened to me, in my life, has done nothing but kill me, over and over again. Until I walk around like some grungy, mime of a Morrissey lugging about some gigantic crusifix? Now, if that ain't Goth, I don't know what is.