Kyle picks me up and we take a short ride over to Sean’s place. He actually lives extremely close to me, which was wild to discover – just on the other side of Cemetery, off of Leap himself. And the detritus of a recent incident is still evident in these parts: the gas pedal of his car somehow got stuck when he was in reverse, attempting to back out from the parking slot. It kept sailing – he was unable to stop – as he first knocked over the dumpster here in his apartment complex. Then the car kept going backwards down a steep hill, where it crashed into a tree and finally stopped. Wild stuff. But he managed to emerge from this episode unscathed.
The three of us chill out and have one beer in his kitchen. “Is it any cooler outside?” Sean wonders – we tell him not really. It’s shocking hot outside, as we disembark – bound for Lisa’s 35th birthday party, which I’ve roped them into attending. They don’t know that crew, and vice versa, but I was able to convince them it should be a swell time. If nothing else, at least a few decent ladies to attempt plying their wares with.
It started around 5, so we’re obviously a bit late to this scene. Lisa has bought a house on a quiet residential street in the Hilltop area, and everyone’s gathered behind it, at or around a pair of picnic tables. And Nicole is here! She’s tanned and blonde, I actually didn’t recognize her at first. Most unexpected indeed. This is the first I’ve seen of her since that night years ago where we started to make out, right before she puked. Tonight as soon as I show up she’s all smiles and calling my name with a little wave and a hiiiiiiieeeeee! from the picnic table in the back yard.
Since about early March or thereabouts, though declaring my social/dating life DOA at that time, I’ve actually rebounded in pretty solid fashion. It turns out I was maybe not completely toast in this town after all. After Jill moved out, understandably I suppose, yet again it was another months long cold snap where I couldn’t seem to get it together with the ladies around here, leading to the doom n’ gloom pronouncements from earlier this year. In fact even in a mindset where I’m telling myself I’m over that stuff, and don’t care if I hook up ever again.
But these matters have always been extremely streaky. Which is easy to forget – during every down period, I pretty much tend to think, well, looks like my antics have finally hit the inevitable brick wall, it was bound to happen sooner or later, chicks are finally hip to this game. But no! And in fact the way I have things set up now might be the most improbably hilarious era ever, because I’m even more aloof than before. Legions more aloof, it feels like, as absolutely nobody has any sort of even remotely accurate picture of my life. And it’s like these girls know they are getting nothing else out of me whatsoever. An ideal scenario, in other words.
I’ve had plenty of time to ponder this aloofness, and why it seems to work so well with the women, when you rationally wouldn’t think there’s any reason that it ever should. I think the reason it succeeds – when it does, that it is – is because there are 2 different levels where you have a shot at connecting with them. Plus one obvious tactical reason it works from what you might say is a strategic standpoint.
So yeah, two different avenues for connecting with them, with this extreme aloofness approach:
- They are hoping to remain incredibly aloof themselves, i.e. keep it on the “friends with benefits” level, and so they appreciate the same from you
- Hoping for something more, but consider your aloofness a challenge, one that they are determined to break
Either of these might work, then. And as far as the tactical – practical – explanation for why this is successful, I think it’s somewhat obvious, at least to me, in that you’re far more likely to get away with this crap if you’re just kind of floating around (like at a party, sure), not really saying much, not focusing on anybody in particular above anyone else, making your stupid jokes and nothing resembling a real conversation, then leaving – or crashing here, or whatever. Point being if you’re ever in a small setting where you’ve slept with more than one person and are wondering how on earth to pull this off without it turning into drama central, this is pretty much the only route that I’m aware of. Beyond that, though, there are 3 other extremely easy points to forget, to the extent that even I tend to. The real boiled down essence of why any of this works, at least for me:
- This is my basic nature anyhow. Being aloof is the preferred default mode that I would just unconsciously gravitate to anyway. “Normal” dating strategies feel incredibly weird and cheesy to me, which is why I always struggled with them.
- I am typically bored in short order if spending tons of time with some girl, without lengthy breaks in between. This I have admitted on occasion, although it typically doesn’t go over so well, even when I explain it’s nothing personal. Or should I say it doesn’t seem to go over well on the surface, though I suspect they secretly dig it and this actually works to your advantage. Even so, that too really obscures the biggest point, which deep down I’m aware of, yet haven’t actually spelled out to anyone that I can recall:
- They would become extremely bored with me, in short order, if we were spending a ton of time together. They just don’t know it. This zany existence I think might look interesting from a distant, bird’s eye view, and it’s definitely interesting to live it. However anyone caught in the middle of those two extremes would probably consider it tedious.
Well, so anyway, regarding this party, Lisa has two picnic tables set up here in her back yard, floodlit/firelit but still half dark. When we arrive, she and some other family members are playing poker at one of them, and for once I’m curiously uninterested in participating – I think there’s legitimately too much else going on. Plus, Kyle and Sean don’t really know anyone, and I have to keep them entertained. Meanwhile, plenty of others are either seated at the second picnic table or standing around. Among the attendees are Maria, her cousin Michael who briefly lived in their basement, his girlfriend Stacy, Michelle, Tara, Bridgette, Roy, Pat. Tara and Bridgette leave early. Then, lo and behold, an unlikely figure comes breezing into the back yard all the way from Louisville, KY: Maria’s old boyfriend Jason. Semi bearded and heavier, I don’t think I’ve seen this dude since about 2002.
“I’m sure I’ve said some negative things about you, but it’s still good to see you,” I admit.
“You’ve put on some weight,” Michelle tells him.
“You look better,” I add.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
They’ve got a wild assortment of cheap beers in an ice bucket, “sullied” only by my Heineken. Roy’s telling us how he was sleeping with his boss at the carpet cleaning place back in the day, and she gave him 5 accounts. That’s how he got started running his own operation.
Roy’s all gung ho for barhopping, actually, hence some of us take off for Fairweathers Cafe on Trabue. He keeps assuring everyone that this place is “very Mansfield” even though I’m the only other person who would even know what he’s talking about. And I’m down for this concept. Kyle says of the party, “definitely ain’t no bitches here,” an assessment I would actually disagree with – but at any rate, he’s also game to join us. As do Maria, Michelle, Sean, and Jason. Everyone else remains behind at the house.
At Fairweathers we stay for exactly one beer, unless you’re talking about Roy, who buys and does a shot with these two hillbilly chicks at the bar, teeth missing. This is a hodgepodge bar with tacked on pool room, one or two tables, but admittedly tons of people everywhere. Jason’s asking me what it is I do these days.
It’s soon agreed that we will leave this place in favor of Polo’s. Which is now, it seems, somehow…a black bar. Or at least that’s the vibe tonight. I ride with Maria and Jason; Kyle and Sean in another; Roy and Michelle in a third. Walking into Polo’s, I dance my way across the mostly empty back dance floor – Roy bumped into us near door, told us where they were: Michelle, Sean, and Kyle standing looking a little lost at floor’s edge. Bar darker now, lighting-wise, and the back half’s been remodeled: a horseshoe shaped bar, pool tables gone, dance floor now in their place, and yeah this overwhelmingly black clientele. I find this stuff extremely interesting from a sociological or historical standpoint, these changes over time, and how they come about.
But then there are other developments, closer to home so to speak, which are not so lighthearted and philosophical. Kind of like with various workplace predicaments, where you’re unsure even how to proceed, what should be done, if anything even should be done, sometimes who to believe, all of which ties you in knots, often leading to doing nothing. Which also opens up a second philosophical dilemma of its own, separate from the first one.
“Roy was all over me the whole way here,” Michelle complains, in an aside to me, shaking her head, “it was awful.”
“You should’ve smacked him around a little bit,” I joke, playing this off with a laugh.
“I tried,” she assures me.
This instantly reminds me of another night just a year or two ago, a somewhat similar situation. Although in that instance, I personally witnessed some of the borderline questionable behavior. An occasion where a handful of us were out barhopping from place to place, and one of my guy friends was continually hitting on this other female friend, laying it on really thick, although to my eyes it didn’t really seem like she was very much into it. Until we reach what winds up being the last stop on this crawl, and she vents to me out of the blue about the situation.
“He thinks there’s something here and there is nothing here!”
“I was wondering about that,” I admit, “and if I should intervene.”
“Yes! By all means! Please do! Intervene!”
Well, to be honest, I actually did not confront the friend in question. Maybe this is a convenient escape hatch, but by this point he was quite hammered anyway and seemed to have given up on the cause at last. Except then – whoa, what do you know – the two of them, months down the road, did in fact wind up sleeping together quite a bit, consensually, and it was pretty plain after a while that she was the aggressor. The upshot here is that this and other analogous episodes just tend to make you think after a while that, eh, I don’t really know what the hell’s going on here, I’m not entirely sure who to believe, I didn’t see anything all that objectionable myself and therefore I’m just going to stay out of it.
Maria and Jason leave almost immediately. Michelle acts completely different with them (and Tommy of course) not around. I’ve always suspected she secretly dug me, but it always sounds like delusional nonsense when you think that way about a chick, until maybe something happens. Now, with her complaint about Roy, I feel like there’s an easy way to find out and enact a little bit of strategy at the same time: do nothing. Amazing how well this always works. She yanks me out onto the dance floor, it’s just the two of us, and she’s bent over, grinding her ass against my crotch, et cetera, and this goes on for quite a while. So yeah, you might say a picture begins to emerge. That which was formerly fuzzy begins to take shape.
Meanwhile, back at Lisa’s house, apparently Pat is completely pissed off that I showed up. Is throwing stuff around the house and yelling at Lisa about the situation. But then also apparently tells Nicole and her new man that he’s actually cheating on Lisa himself. Before he disappears for the night, crashing elsewhere.
Elsewhere around Columbus and its suburbs, Midwest Biker Rally continues with another performance from Terry Davidson and Co., followed this time by the all-star lineup of Kenny Wayne Shephered, Dickey Betts, and Blackberry Smoke
Across town, the OSU Marching Band takes to the lawn at Chemical Abstracts for the final Picnic With The Pops performance of the season.
An unidentified gunshot victim is found dead in the middle of the afternoon, on a lawn at 664 Rhoads Avenue. Witnesses report hearing a gun go off and then a green car speeding away from the scene.
In Grove City, at Park Street Elementary, there’s an event called Balloons Off Broadway. A bunch of hot air balloons take off from the school grounds and return at nightfall. In between, there’s music and food to keep the masses entertained.
A group of Mormon youngsters, in town for a conference, take to the streets in the Vassor Village neighborhood and begin cleaning it up, as their latest community outreach project.
So, yeah, not a ton that I could drudge up going on around these parts. It’s definitely possible that hanging out with these fine folks today might have been the best use of my time.
