Weekends come and weekends go.
So, this weekend I ended up going on an impulse trip back home. My moms’ boyfriend had been in a pretty bad car accident, and ended up with three fractures in his spine. This was one reason to head home, as there’s always something that needs to be lifted (Most could have waited for Easter, but it was nice to get it out of the way.
Also a friend of mine, who’ve I’ve always known while she was in a relationship had finally had the big talk with her latest flirt. After considerable ifs and buts she had finally forced the words “I don’t want to be your boyfriend” out of his lips, and she was hurt and upset. She asked me to come down, and I would lie if I said there weren’t some unspoken promises and quite obvious innuendo in the way she asked it. In fact I believe she started out with “we should go to London for the weekend”, but I talked her down to me heading home and us hanging out there instead. Now I’m the first to admit that I’m a sucker for a pretty face, and hers is undoubtedly one of the prettier I’ve hung out with lately, but every once in a while my brain gives my groin a good kick and makes me focus on the bad idea heading my way at 80mph. It pointed out that I knew we would be a bad match, as she is stuck on mammon, fancy hotels and jewellery, while I’m more of a “backpacking, rowdy bars and adventure” type guy. Sure, the fancy hotel is nice in between, but not as a lifestyle. It reminded me that some friends are best kept at friends length, and that the way her messages chilled, only a day after the initial "do me now" invite was a little suspichious. I ended up listening to it, and played the whole thing down as much as I could.
The invite came about a week before I headed down. Halfway home I got of my buss, and joined her in her car. The remaining two hours of my trip was filled with her telling me of how the “ending” might not have been so final after all (anyone heard this before?), and now he was lavishing her with attention, chocolates and flowers. How he had deep pockets, and had even payed for a romantic weekend getaway to Stockholm. I gave my brain a good pat on the back and spent the rest of our time together as the only slightly obnoxious good chummy “in-no-way-am-I-interested-yet-I-flirt-like-the-devil” friend, up until I gave her a hug and said “no thanks” to a nightcap on Saturday night.
Now, I still had fun. We went to a salsa class on Saturday during the day, then out for dinner and a movie later in the evening. I took the opportunity to dress up and I enjoyed looking better than I had for years. I know I flirted horridly, and I enjoyed saying no after following her home. It was pretty apparent that she had used me to get to her current “I don’t want to be your boyfriend” boy toy, so I in no way feel bad about this.
The rest of the weekend was spent helping my mother move stuff and hanging out with my sisters. The south of Norway can be pure therapy when the suns out. The sun was out this weekend, and I return to work a refreshed and renewed man. And more lustful for the fruits the world may hold outside this cubicle of awkwardness.
Also a friend of mine, who’ve I’ve always known while she was in a relationship had finally had the big talk with her latest flirt. After considerable ifs and buts she had finally forced the words “I don’t want to be your boyfriend” out of his lips, and she was hurt and upset. She asked me to come down, and I would lie if I said there weren’t some unspoken promises and quite obvious innuendo in the way she asked it. In fact I believe she started out with “we should go to London for the weekend”, but I talked her down to me heading home and us hanging out there instead. Now I’m the first to admit that I’m a sucker for a pretty face, and hers is undoubtedly one of the prettier I’ve hung out with lately, but every once in a while my brain gives my groin a good kick and makes me focus on the bad idea heading my way at 80mph. It pointed out that I knew we would be a bad match, as she is stuck on mammon, fancy hotels and jewellery, while I’m more of a “backpacking, rowdy bars and adventure” type guy. Sure, the fancy hotel is nice in between, but not as a lifestyle. It reminded me that some friends are best kept at friends length, and that the way her messages chilled, only a day after the initial "do me now" invite was a little suspichious. I ended up listening to it, and played the whole thing down as much as I could.
The invite came about a week before I headed down. Halfway home I got of my buss, and joined her in her car. The remaining two hours of my trip was filled with her telling me of how the “ending” might not have been so final after all (anyone heard this before?), and now he was lavishing her with attention, chocolates and flowers. How he had deep pockets, and had even payed for a romantic weekend getaway to Stockholm. I gave my brain a good pat on the back and spent the rest of our time together as the only slightly obnoxious good chummy “in-no-way-am-I-interested-yet-I-flirt-like-the-devil” friend, up until I gave her a hug and said “no thanks” to a nightcap on Saturday night.
Now, I still had fun. We went to a salsa class on Saturday during the day, then out for dinner and a movie later in the evening. I took the opportunity to dress up and I enjoyed looking better than I had for years. I know I flirted horridly, and I enjoyed saying no after following her home. It was pretty apparent that she had used me to get to her current “I don’t want to be your boyfriend” boy toy, so I in no way feel bad about this.
The rest of the weekend was spent helping my mother move stuff and hanging out with my sisters. The south of Norway can be pure therapy when the suns out. The sun was out this weekend, and I return to work a refreshed and renewed man. And more lustful for the fruits the world may hold outside this cubicle of awkwardness.