Jesus hates the Flint

Blasting Modest Mouse at improbable volumes with your dick in your hand and your browser at randompornsite.com is a greatly underrated method of recovering from a hangover. It's the endorphins see.

What's with these women? Why are they so beautiful, so available, so present everywhere I go. Where, I wonder, were they when I was devastatingly single and looking? It's strange but I'm barely off the market, and I'm already struggling with this concept of monogamy. I once wrote about falling in love a thousand times a day, and thinking (as all essentialists believe guys do) of possessing each and every one of these beauties. I'm not stupid. I knew I'd have to deal with this issue if I ever got into a relationship. Nevertheless I didn't anticipate, or perhaps I simply didn't realize how much of a wandering eye I have. And because Jesus hates me (probably cause I don't believe in him yet take his name in vain to explain the miseries of my life), he put a whole slew of them in my way yesterday, to mock me, less than a week into my new relationship.

First of all, walking around campus on the first day of eighty degree weather is likely to cause any heterosexual man whiplash. It's not bloody Long Beach people, put some clothes on! I'm trying to be educated here. Anyway, I got on a train on my way to see a concert and my eyes are immmediately drawn to those of a girl who happens to stand above most of the other passengers in the train. I'm a fairly tall fella and other than the occasional dude, I'm not really used to making eye contact with anyone when I look directly across the train. Generally I'm seeing the tops of people's heads. So when I made eye contact with this very pretty brown face, I of course had to do a more thorough examination. God must have had some free time when he made her. 6 foot tal, Amazonian black woman with the most ridiculous backside and rack I've seen outside of a porno and that one friend of mine who's a traffic hazard. And when I'm done checking her out, I realise that she keeps looking over my way. We make eye contact and she must have held my gaze for a half minute, then she burst out giggling and looked away. My photography professor sometimes takes a look at a picture I'm working on and says, "I think you can get that in three." I would venture I could have had this lady in two. Took all my will power not to walk over and give her my number.

And then after the concert, we all went out for drinks and dancing at Hiro. The lady worked late and had work really early in the morning, so she didn't come out. Now, this isn't some new group of people I haven't hung out with before. My concert buddies (minus the best friend), the Turkish fella and his English friend (who we randomly ran into at the Elbow concert) and some more English friends of concert girl. All the new faces were male and I'd never had the slightest bit of sexual tension with any of the other members of the group. So of course, we ended up getting ridiculously drunk, very flirty on the dance floor and concert girl (whose sexuality I've occasionally wondered about because she's never really shown sign of having any) ends up snuggling next to me as I rest in a whiskey induced fog at our table. Everyone else was on the dance floor and she came and plopped by me, obviously very drunk herself and nuzzles right up to my face. She then initiated a somewhat incoherent conversation which she insisted on having right in my face. Were I single, I would have damned the "don't make moves on your friends" rule and delivered the kiss she was so obviously demanding. As I am not, I did no such thing. I asked if she was alright and if it might be time that we made our way out and I put her in a taxi, but she insisted there was more partying to do. So I got up and began the long dance of leaving the club. I give myself a A for impulse control and C- for knowing what the fuck is going on.

Here's the thing. I've been going on for somewhere in the range of six years or so about wanting a decent relationship. Somehow or the other, I've finally landed in one that is healthy, makes complete sense and is with someone I really like, who is really damn fine and awesome. In the period of anticipation, I knew being in a relationship would not kill my wandering eye or somehow immunize me from the effects of beautiful girls, but seriously this is ridiculous. I must end this post now but coming up is a rumination on the relationship I'm trying to build, what I was thinking I wanted in a relationship versus what I'm likely to get, and the negotiations on these issues. In the meantime, feel free to chastise me for me being a cad with (as Chelsea Girl described me) the amorous attention span of a beagle at a chili contest (a description I'm unlikely to ever forget or let go).