Failure to thrive
Anyone who’s seen the Charlie Chaplin vehicle in which he is much beloved by a portly, wealthy gentleman, but only when that gentleman is drunk, understands much more about my sex life than they’d probably admit.
No one would accuse Nicky of being a portly, wealthy gentleman, but I will. When we woke up after the night we met, though, everything seemed good. She was smiling the best anyone can when hungover, groggy, and exhausted from athletic bad sex. She wanted to eat. We set out into the street, arm-in-arm, and reasonably pleased. We found food at a diner. The waitress seemed to know we were people who were having post-first-date-sex breakfast. That pissed me off. For example:
N: “I’ll have an orange juice.” W: “Large or small?” N: “I dunno, uh —” J: “Go on, get the large.” W: “That’s right. Impress the lady.”
Nicky’s beautiful giant head, made that much bigger by her hangover, bobbled more and more precariously as she attempted to nourish it. Finally she announced it wasn’t working. She wanted a bloody Mary.
I happen to know the best place for bloody Marys, and I don’t even like them. That is what a great guy I am. So off we went. I figured, buy her a drink, put her in a cab, and get on with the day. Reasonable. Friendly, but resolute.
About four Marys (for her), three vodka-and-sodas (for me), and a couple hours later, it became clear she was staying on that stool as long as possible. Not that I had any reason to get rid of her. I liked her, of course. I liked her a lot. I just didn’t want to overstay my welcome.
We talked for hours in the bar. Also, as the bar filled up, people wanted to talk to us. Some guy found her fascinating, and the fact that she was with with me he found doubly fascinating. I wasn’t sure who he was hitting on. Also, Nicky began to give me some kind of heartfelt speech which had “You’re a great guy, I mean a really great guy” in it, so I was waiting for the “But” clause. She never got around to the “But,” though I think it was because she lost her train of thought rather than because there wasn’t any.
Finally, by the time night fell, she was drunk again, and in a different way than the night before. She was limp and lolling. No smiles. “I’ll take you home,” I said.
She leaned on me as we walked to the curb. I tried to hail a cab by raising my arm; she tried by wandering in front of them. Finally we stopped one by my method and got in it. “I’ll just drop you off and go home,” I reassured her.
With her head snuggled against my shoulder, she murmured, “You’re such an asshole.”
Now, I had no idea what that meant. Was she mad I was accompanying her home, because I had — shudder — overstayed my welcome? Or was she mad that I said I was going to leave right after because I had not overstayed my welcome? Do you understand the issue of the overstaying of the welcome? It is a critical issue.
I decided that “asshole” was a word more applicable to those whose self-interest leads them to abandon — but maybe only because there was no obvious term for guys who didn’t know when to go home, other than perhaps “greedy.” I took her across bridges and highways and she said, “Stay.” So I stayed. And the next morning, the second morning, she certainly looked surprised to see me. She shuffled around in her kimono while I washed my face. It’s good in these situations if people smoke, because that’s always an indicator of how stressed out they are. Nicky doesn’t smoke. But she’s got that big signpost of a head. Do I need to say it? I had overstayed my welcome.
She treated me to an awkward, yet oddly clingy hug, and I was off again to the borough of my preference.
by Jack, October 26, 2003 12:09 PM | More from Nicky | More from Women
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You're not supposed to listen when they say "stay". What are you, a dog? "Stay, Rover!" You shouldn't listen to her when she says "stay" any more than you should if she said "fetch" or "roll over".
When a woman says, "You are such an asshole," she could mean any one of four things:
- That you are an asshole (least likely)
- That you are a nice guy, but that either she doesn't have the capacity to be straightforward or that she doesn't think you will believe her if she says it that way.
- That she wants you to sex her up again, but this time a little more aggressively - putting her in her place for daring to call you that.
The fact that the next morning she did seem bothered by your presence should not be connected in anyway to that comment. This girl is not behaving with any straight-through logic and she doesn't probably mean most of what she says or does. She's bothered to see you because it's morning, she's hung-over, and, perhaps, she probably would've prefered you to screw and leave. I think that's usually what we want when we take someone home so quickly. This isn't Love Story after all.
In other words, after sex, someone is always going to be the asshole, and someone else is always going to be the bitch. Chose your position and move.
Our anonymous friend seems to be on to something. Who said other people could be aphoristic and wise in my blog? Anyway, I'm sure that Nicky meant the fourth, secret, thing you are honor bound not to outline above. I think it's time to forget old Nicky.