So, as I do not get into cabs and pass the Eiffel Tower and then I do not walk around the neighborhoods of my newly met sex dates at night in order to buy condoms, as I do not make out on the bridges above the river in the city of lovers near Notre Dame, as I do not hook up with random guys near mosques while waiting for other guys who blow me off (please, don't confuse blowing off with blowjobs), as I do not have eye connection with some strangers on the streets of a capital of a Southern European country and I do not get into their cars, as I do not call my fuck buddies at 1 AM because I am horny - as I do not happen to do these seemingly exciting things and considering the fact that I do not want the readers of this blog to flow away I will provide you with some silly but hilarious stories of my single friends (God bless single friends!).
One of my friends - W. who happened to live with me in Northern Africa and who happens to live with me here goes out with me almost all the time. We have our favorite expats' hot spot called 'Kingston' and we are there every Thursday. It is classy, fun and fabulous. While we were there W. got lucky to attract the guy playing saxophone. Maybe he was not the cutest guy on earth but he played sax. And as it later turned out he was a mix of three different nationalities and I guess I do not have to stress how much I like it (and so does she now after hanging out way too much with me). So while she was making out with him I sent her a message 'he is playing sax. don't refuse ANYTHING!'. But the things with them did not go further and somehow she ended up with another guy. She could not remember his name so she would call him 'Leen' (that's how she understood his name in a loud night club) or more often 'horny guy' (guess why). She spent rest of the night in Kingston with him. The next Thursday in our hot spot she met up with a Spanish guy and made out with him on the dance floor. I texted her 'I like him. Go for it!' to approve her choice and praise her good taste. She also stayed with him until the end of the party but didn't take him home.
Last Thursday when we met up before the party she looked terrified. On the way from the metro station to Kingston passing the Justice Palace and a promenade overlooking the city she admitted she had received two text messages on that day. One of which was from the horny guy and the other from the Spanish guy. Both were saying the same - that they would be delighted to see her in Kingston that night. She panicked. Probably, the sax guy would be there too meaning three guys she made out with - and at least two of them hoping for more. Over the course of the night she managed to make them not to come using weak but efficient excuses like 'oh sorry, I'm too tired today. Let's just call it a night' or 'I do not feel like partying tonight. It is just going to be me, a glass of wine and a film'. So we enjoyed the night together dancing and having fun with our friends.
The relation with both of them somehow continued.
The Spanish guy became very romantic. Another time, he took her out for a dinner and brought her to his spotlessly clean apartment. She got terrified again. What guy would keep his apartment that clean? It looked like a hospital or museum. Is he normal? What would he think if he saw my dirty room? Nevertheless, he was a gentleman and she couldn't reject him because of the clean flat, could she? He also brought her a cock (the animal of course - a small souvenir) from his trip to Northern Portugal. During one of the dates he said 'I might be falling in love with you'. That was too much. And this way he spoiled it saying something stupid like 'I love you'... Too clean flat, a cock and I love you? Too much. It had no future. The relation slowed down and invisibly finished. Then she just saw him dancing in a nightclub with some other girl a few weeks later...
Leen was also 'taken into consideration' a few times. He was the hilarious/pathetic clumsy type of a guy. Sometimes it was funny, sometimes it was better to cover your eyes with your hands or simply look away. He was lucky to be invited 'upstairs' which was good for both of them. I was already worried W. could get revirginized so I appreciated her interactions with horny Leen. No significant connection though so it never evolved further. It could not have been love so it's over now.
Show must go on. Fun must go on. Games must go on.
Although I would never trade the relationship with James to anything/anyone else I have to sincerely admit I sometimes miss those carefree stories - you never know where you will wake up or whether you pass the Eiffel Tower at night.
Luckily, we have memories. And single friends.
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