marsmars

Is there nothing greater than Johnny Cash? This is a rhetorical question of course, to which the answer is a resounding and implied "no." I was exposed to his vastness a good deal over the course of my last outing. I must say, I like what I heard. He's got an authentic edge that goes a long way in my book (you see, I have to compensate for my own shallowness and lack of character with massive injections of outside culture and substance). If nothing else, The Man in Black fills a void in my life that until a few weeks ago, I didn't even know existed. My hats off to you, good sir.

Growing old is nice. There are general perks that cannot be acquired with any amount of money. Experience! I used to think that experience had nothing to do with the way one should go about life's decision-making process. It's a cruel sort of irony that I should reverse my position as I gain more experience. Shakes his fist at the forces that be! Feh.

On a similar note: some things never seem to change, irrespective of whatever stark input I may secure from my experiences. Consider for a moment my little outings to the hookah lounge. It's not even a question of whether or not I should be going there. I haven't made up my mind either way. On the one hand, I feel like it's appropriate to reward myself for all the high maintinence that comes with being in my position. On the other hand, the zenith of debauchery that we reach every time we go there seems counterintuitive to all the convictions I once held in life. Well, that is to say, I still hold them fiercely at all times outside of that infernal place. But I leave them at the door without question.

I suppose this entire arrangement is fine, to a point. There's a sort of functional balance to it all. However, I think this entire relationship has come to a head, since the last time I went there. Quite simply, my two worlds collided, and not suprisingly, they were in conflict.

You see, I've always felt a (*sobering*) sense of responsibility towards women. I won't explain why, for the details are beyond your mortal comprehension. Suffice it to say, when it comes down to it, I always try to put their interests before my own. What this means specifically when alcohol enters the equation is that when you drink with me, I'm responsible for your well-being and safety. To be sure, I enjoy the fun of their company tremendously! But I always do so very tastefully. So I make sure you don't fall out of a balcony, for example. Or I'll see that you get home safely. To be general, I make sure you don't make any rash decisions that you'll regret later. I don't have to tell you that this means there's no advantage-taking-of. But I digress...

The real craziness started sunday morning, around 4am. The place was empty except for the lounge upstairs. I was a bit shloshy by then, of course. To add to the pandemonium, several linebackers from Oregon State were in town, and I had taken them under my metaphorical wing. The shots were rampant, and the tab was irresponsible (the manager hinted at 1500 after all was said and done, but I'll have to wait for the end of the month to find out, haha). All was right with left, I guess. They were in the middle of showing me feats of their tremendous strength, when she walked in the door... and naturally complicated my life ineffably.

Let me start by saying that I cannot recall the last time I was so taken with someone, if there ever even was such a time. She was radiant in a way I think only I could truly appreciate. Tall, lithe, black hair, subtle features, and an impeccable skull. And she was oh so interesting. How can I not be drawn to a quiet elegant woman wandering around an empty city at 4am, writing in her journal?! We talked about cigars (she's a huge aficionado). She had great taste by the way, delving into the world of Macanudos (of which I am particularly fond of), and the Sumatran blends of Rocky Patel. And she talked about herself, and she asked me lots of questions... and things were just really nice. She was genuinely interested in me. We clicked thoroughly. I had never been so relaxed with a woman. Sighs... Just thinking about what happened just an hour or so later saddens and disappoints me deeply.

We were taking shots pretty regularly. Probably a bit more than either one of us should have gone through. I was well ahead of her though, so I was the first to lose a functioning grasp of what was going on around me. One of the linebackers, a handsome chap (far out of my league, of course) accosted her, and started drinking. I saw them slip away together to the restroom, a short while later. I saw her face totally disinterested, but not really knowing what was going on. Or unable to react, as was my state too. I saw it happen, and I just sat there and lost focus after a few seconds.

Five minutes later, I remember what I had just missed, and I sprung up and went to the women's bathroom. There was... much noise. There was no question as to what was going on. I asked the linebacker to come join me for some talking, and he acquiesced (amazingly enough, considering his upper hand on overall mass and muscle structure). There was zipping and rustling, and he joined me outside the stall. The woman? She... walked out without so much as a passing glance at me. I don't know what the expression meant. It doesn't really matter, though. At first, I thought it was embarassment. But now the more I think about it, I think it might have been anger towards me. Was it really my right to interrupt what happened? Like I said, it's academic.

Obviously, I thought it was ok at the time, or I would never have broken up the coupling. She meant a lot to me, even though I had known her for a brief time. I felt that she was a much better woman than that. I reasoned that my alcohol had simply impared the senses of both her and the linebacker, and that ultimately it was my mess. I wanted to save her from something she might regret. Make no mistake about it: jealousy had nothing to do with it. Although I would be lying if I said I wouldn't be interested in seeing her again.

But now? I really don't know. I know where she works, it's just down the street from the club. I don't usually actively seek out women. Actually, I never have. She would have been my first, if our entire relationship wasn't marred horribly from the beginning by the events in stall #1.

I'd like to see her again, but I don't know how to go about it. Dunno if it's even a good idea. Although I have a penchant for women that destabilize my life (hah, just after I got after the last one too, and restabilized things). Well, it has probably been too long since our encounter anyway. Almost a week. Well... if anybody has any input, I'd appreciate it a lot. You know where to find me... Points at the chair of punishment and loathing (and reading), in the corner of his room. I will be pondering...