Thursday, December 28, 2006

Unsolicited Advice, Pt. 1

The hardest thing about being back home for the holidays is discovering just how few people have changed since high school. The grapevine still sways with murmurs of the incest group (still cheating on each other with each other, still stuck in this shitty town). Sexy Spinster recently bumped into the lot of them at a mid-level restaurant chain. They invited her over to their table to discuss their unfortunate exploits. Oh yeah, punching a chick in the face after she gives you a blowjob? Hi-lar-ious.

Guitar Guy recently informed me of his presence again. Our once-a-year conversations generally revolve around, well, him. (Not that I'm all that eager to divulge anyway.) In this episode, I found out he had dropped out of university after one month and currently works at Staples. He had so much potential when we attended middle school together. Sociable, quick to laugh, a computer ace. Now, it looks as if he's heading to Bumsville. Don't get me wrong, he's still smart. Except, he wants to make it as a musician.

Need I say more?

Okay, so I'm being patronizing. Shame on me. But where are my loyalties supposed to lie? It's obvious these annual missives are there to remind me of his continued existence. Why? Probably because I found him remotely attractive years ago, so he wants to keep the fire burning in case he one day finds himself in dire need of some ... company.

I wasn't born yesterday. He's neither the first nor last man to do this to me. MArt's previous roommate, Dubliner Phil, blatantly hit on me the day of my flight home two weeks ago. The minute he found out he would be seeing me for the last time, he made a last ditch attempt to preserve potential poon. He grew a conscience, got sentimental, requested to meet with me in private. Sexual innuendos suddenly replaced his usual deluge of Asian jokes. And the hugs! Lord, he sure kept them coming. "What was that about?" I inquired MArt the following evening. He said he was also troubled by it; his "boyfriend alarm" had been ringing all night.

"He thought he could present a 'secret side' of him to you so you'd feel special and be open to hooking up in the future."

How could anyone fall for this sort of bullshit? I have no illusions that whatever it is I fell for in MArt had originally been mined by other women. Everyone exploits their quirks -- glorifying them only makes you a sucker. /con't/

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