Friday, October 18, 2019

China and Back

So I have been gone a week.  I went to China and back.  We took off from Detroit and landed in Beijing twelve hours later.  The sun chased us across the sky along our journey but the foreboding clouds in the Chinese capital kept the sun at bay.  I do not adjust well to the cultural differences.  I find the lack of personal freedoms and personal space intrusive.  We took a day to visit the Forbidden City.  The crowds were large and rude by western standards.

The rest of my time was spent in Qinhuangdao.  A resort city of the coast of Bo Hai Sea which flows into the Yellow Sea.  My hotel was on the water.  There was a spectacular view from my room on the eighteenth floor.  You looked out onto the water.  Below me were manicured garden paths leading down to a winding boardwalk and beach. 

The weather was mild.  The tourists were gone for the season.  I saw few people on the beach.  It would be a nice spot for a vacation.  But this was a work trip and we spent our days at various manufacturing facilities while taking in a few of the local sites.  There were no woman readily available to entertain businessman.  No bar at the hotel.
 
My host spent a lot of time trying to feed me.  I was a disappointment.  Food holds no interest for me, especially seafood.  Their seafood is all work.  Giant shrimp with shell tentacles and eyes still intact and small crabs both leave a pile of waste on your plate for little meat. 

I found myself with a lot of alone time.  That is never good.  My thoughts would return to Billy.  On my previous trips to China I would be communicating with her constantly.  I longed to reach out to her.  As time passes I find myself hating her more but missing the relationship we had.  If she were in front of me would I still be able to hate her?  I do not know the answer.  They say time heals all wounds but do you ever get back what you had?

This trip was so uneventful I cannot stretch it into multiple posts.  Yes I stood on the Great Wall.  Yes I saw some interesting things but the shroud over my heart does not allow them to reach me.  I wanted to go home.  I wanted to be free of me thoughts.  I wanted what I no longer had.

I do not like that she still occupies so much of my thoughts and so much of this blog.  I know in my heart she is missing me too.  People have been saying you cannot replace one person with another.  It feel like she has done that.  

Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Grieving

Rose steps out of her car and enters the house through the garage.  she is wearing a faded pair of jeans a forest green top that faux ties at the waist.  My eyes are drawn to the curve of the her waist and the pale white skin that is exposed there.  She is not wearing a bra. She never wears a bra and I can clearly see the outline of her nipples pressing against the thin material of her top.

We sit on the couch and we talk.  She is content to listen to me ramble.  She is very easy to be around.  She is calculatedly attentive and we caress each others hands and legs while we talk.

I unleash a steady stream of stories while occasionally trying to pull some from her.  She is evasive about herself.  She lies about herself.   She has always lied, because the truth is either too embarrassing or too painful.  I would like to here the truth.  It would not change the way I think of her.  I save each grain of truth she does reveal to slowly paint a complete picture.

"You know everything about me Rose."  I tell her.  "I don't hold anything back. My ex-girlfriend is a heroin addict.  What could be worse than that?  If I killed someone I would probably tell you."

"I would help you bury the body."  She tell me with giggle.  Her remark leads me off into a story about dreams and dead bodies, My story ends in me saying maybe THAT was to much information.

She excuses herself to use the bathroom.  I put on a selection of Dave Mathews Band songs to set the mood.  When she comes back she straddles my lap and sways to the music.  Rose takes off her top and allows me to caress her bare torso.  After a time she stands in front of me and takes off her jeans.  She is wearing a pink lace thong beneath.

She let out light moans as she moves against me.  They are more show than reality, but they have the same affect.  She alternates facing toward me with facing away, and leaning back against me.  Her grinding becomes more intense and I am fully erect.  She allows my hand to slip down between her thighs and now our bodies are moving in unison.  My hands are on her thighs and I hold her tightly against me as I release.

Things slow and we lay on the couch together after.  She is in no hurry to leave.  I lower my voice and continue talking as she closes her eyes.  I tell her I want this to be a place she can go to get away from her drama.  Before she leaves I tell her, "We can work out an arrangement, whatever way makes you comfortable.  You just have to tell me what you want."

Next morning I am reluctant to leave my bed.  I find myself missing Billy more than usual.  My mind begins to compare Rose and Billy.  It is a ridiculous exercise. They are both young and beautiful.  I thought Rose would be a good distraction to shift my thoughts away from Billy. Our physical contact just reminded me what I was missing.

I think about the softness of Billy's skin and I breakdown. The urge to reach out to her was very strong this morning.  I almost gave into the need.  My mind and body are hurting and she is the cure I desperately want but she is out of reach.

Rose is nice and she likes hanging out with me, but Billy loved me once, and I am still grieving the loss of that love.

Rose

Sam says I should do whatever it takes to get through these days and I try.  I painted the bedrooms, got new carpets and stripped the house of all things linked to Billy.  That was in September.  I am saving further painting for the winter.  I am trying to meet someone new.   Perhaps I am trying too hard.  I have been texting with a dancer from back when I spent many nights at the Penthouse club.  I was a regular at the club before Billy and I became a steady couple.  It is where I meet Billy.

I have known Rose longer than Billy, but she is still a mystery.  I have always had a soft spot for her.  She is pretty.  One of those people that never ages.  She looks the same at twenty-nine as she did at nineteen.  She is working at Colosseum but the strip clubs in the city are not the same anymore.  The city is cracking down on the clubs.  The city shutdown the Penthouse Club and dancers at Colosseum need to maintain a six inch distance from customers at all times.  "Six inches?"  I comment to her. "I might as well just watch porn."

Rose suggested we could meet up outside the club.  She is coming over tonight.  I pulled this from my achieves in honor of the occasion.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

A Rose By Any Other Name

I am sitting in a corner deep in the back of the club, away from the stage, and away from dancers. I came to talk with my favorite Eastern European Waitress Milla. New at her job she lacks the jaded veneer the club gives a person. She is unsure she has what it takes to make it. She looks the part, like a young Katie Holmes, but still has that deer trapped in the headlights look to her-- of course we were instant friends.

Milla is sitting with me when a school of shot girl piranhas swarm us. Shot girls are the worst money leeches in any strip club. This bar's are exceptionally bad. They can pull $50 out of you before you know where their watered down liquor went. I am trying to politely dismiss them when I see Rose walk down stairs onto the stage. She caught my eye and I wagged a finger at her.

I extract myself from the grip of the shot girls and go to talk to Rose. "You know how many Amish communities I went to looking for you? It's not like I could call them either, because they don't have phones."

"Oh, whatever!" She replies, crouching down beside.

"Not to mention the Armenian mob, I still got bullet holes healing from that and you didn't even send flowers."

She plays along. "I did send flowers your dead neighbor's ghost probably stole them."

She get a smirk out of me. "Seriously, what happened to you?"

She shrugs, her big doe-eyes looking at me straight on. "I don't know."

"Come see me when you get off stage."

She avoided me at first.  It did not make sense. Milla, my waitress, keeps stopping by. I tolt her the whole story between Rose and I earlier. "Don't let it bother you," she said.

I could not help it. "It does. It doesn't make sense. I only know of two girls that really hate me, my ex and that tall dark haired shot girl."

Later I catch Milla and Rose talking by the stairs. I don't know what was said. I wrap my arms around Rose's waist before she can get away. "I was just going that way, " she assures me.

"Sure you were."

We quibble good-natured all the way back to my table in the corner. We talk for a while than I ask her again what happened to her.

"I just freaked out, I got scared. It is not that I didn't want to go, I just freaked. Don't you remember what it was like to be my age?" Her eyes glisten as if on the verge of tears and I fell the sincerity in her words.

I say, "Look I like our whole dancer, customer relationship thing we got going here. You don't have to make false promises to keep me around."

She assures me that is not it. The rest of the night continued very un-dancer like. We go upstairs and continue talking. She asks if I have seem Clash of the Titans yet. I say no, we should go see it. If someone calls me and asks to be taken to the movies, I will make it happen. She says she will, except that she would pay.

As we head back downstairs, she gets called onstage. I hand her some money and say wait I still owe you $20. I did not expect to get dances that night so only had a few dollars in my front pocket. The rest was in my wallet which was buttoned down in my back pocket.

"Forget it." She says.

"No. That's not right."

"I'll come by your table."

She came back to the table but was reluctant to take the money. She said she would text me later and she did. We are supposed to go to the movies this Thursday. So we will see. Those eyes are hard to resist. 

Monday, October 7, 2019

Evil Thoughts

I desperately need a distraction.  I need someone to help take my mind off of Billy.  I am slipping and she is slipping.  I have been good.  I have not text Billy since this text exchange,  but I want to text her.

The psychic said I can tell when Billy is having a bad day without actually talking to her.  Perhaps there is some truth too that.  I know she is broke.  she is down to the last $100 in her bank account with three days till pay day.

I feel so far removed from her.  Is that a cooping mechanism?  I miss lying next to her but I cannot remember how it felt.

I am torn.  Part of me wants her to fail.  Part of me wants her to come running back to me.  I am not sure why.  Fantasies play out in my head.  Billy coming to me for money. Her and I sleeping together.  Me sending a picture of her naked body to her new boyfriend with a the words, "Enjoying your little addict still?  She will never be just yours.  Not while she is using.  Not unless you are willing to support her.  You will never know how many people she is sleeping with, but it won't be just you."

That is something the old me would do.  Back in the early days when Billy and I would fight.  We were mean.  Reading back the words I just typed, I realize I know them to be true because they were true for me.

Why would I want her back?  I do not.  I want them both to hurt.  Like I hurt.

I desperately need a distraction.  Friday I am traveling to China for a week.  I just need to make it to Friday.

Positive affirmation:  "I am the master of my anxiety.  Anxious thoughts will not control my actions."

The Visit

Saturday was a beautiful fall day.  I pulled up into a driveway in the neighborhood of identical condos where my dad has his own.  This driveway belonged to a neighbor.  Mary is an eighty-six year old woman.  She considers my dad one of her best friends.  It is a cute relationship.

Mary is still getting ready when I arrive.  She is adds the final touch of hair spray and puts on a sweater.  She is in good spirits.  She has not seem my dad in over a month.  I escort her out to the Jeep.  The height of my lifted vehicle is our first obstacle.  She cannot lift her legs high enough to get in the passenger seat.  "Do you think the back will be easier?"  She asks.

"I don't think so, Mary. Give me a second, I'll be right back."  I take off toward my fathers house at quick trot and return with a grey plastic step.  This gives her the six inches she needs to get into the Jeep.

She asks if we can stop at the Krispy Kreme to pick up some donuts.  "Your father likes donuts you know."

"Yes I know."  We roll through the drive thru and pull into the assisted living facility.  I park up front between to parked vehicles to minimize Mary's walk.  I get out and run around to get the step in place.  She waits by the door while I move the Jeep into a regular parking space.  Mary has a limited range without her walker.  She did not want to take it for this trip.  Father's room is on the second floor but the distance is not too far.  I hold her hand the last few yards just to help her.

We knock on the door and enter.  My dad is waiting in his wheel chair.  He is dressed and his hair is combed.  It does not matter how old you are you still want to look good for a date.  I notice his room is clean and straightened.  I plop myself into the green recliner in the corner and allow the two to talk.

They chat for an hour before it is time for his dinner.  My dad planned it that way.  He is reluctant to have Mary visit.  I think he is embarrassed by his decline.  Six months ago he was driving himself around.  I had to push the issue and offer to take her myself. 

The visit makes Mary happy.  He looks better.  She tell me he never discusses his cancer.  He is very private. I tell her he has stage four esophageal cancer.  I think she should know the extent of his cancer.  He probably thinks he is protecting her.  I think he should cherish these moments while he is still feeling good.

I drop Mary back home.  I reminder that it is not out of my way to take her back again once I return from China. 

Sam says she hates old people.  She is dealing with a difficult dad and a mother with cancer.  It is hard on her.  I sympathize with them.  They still have drive to live but the body and mind do not always cooperate.

Friday, October 4, 2019

Conversations on Plenty of Fish

The latest conversation on Plenty of Fish dating site, with subtext for added enjoyment.

Me: You have any fun plans for the weekend?

Potential: No

(She is starting off sounding so exciting.)

Me:We what do you like to do?  Do you like the outdoors?

Potential: It's alright.

(What could possible be wrong with the outdoors in Michigan in the summer and fall!)

Me: That doesn't sound to promising?  You need your vitamin D :).

Potential: Yeah, lol

Me: So if it isn't the outdoors, where do you spend your time?

Potential: I just stay home

(I am texting Howard Hughs, apparently)

Me: You need some adventure in your life!  There is a whole world outside!

Potential:  I know.

(There are soooo many ways she could have taken my opening.  At this point I am losing my patience.)

Me:Well what would you like to try?  and what has kept you from it?

Me:  It would be a shame to go through all the pain of a face lift and not let anyone see it.

(Yes she states in her profile she just got a face lift!)

Potential: I thought about that.

Me: Andddddd what would you like to do?  Anxiety holding you back?

Potential: Yes!

(Great way to expose your best qualities, but now I am intrigued)

Me: Bad former relationship?  You say you are going to be going back to school are you nervous about that

Potential: Omg, yes on the school! I'm so nervous about it.  I have a hard time around people because most don't have common sense and I get angry and annoyed.

Me:Well it will be good to learn a bit of patience.

(Much like me in this conversation)

Potential: I'm working on that lol. Ur funny.

Me: Well I figure you should be yourself on here.  No use sugar coating my personality, it would come out once you meet me.  so tell me more about you.

Potential: Not much to tell, I'm pretty boring.  Kinda lost touch with what I like or don't.  I want to maybe talk to you before I agree to meet.  Met some serious weirdos on here.  Not that you are.  I know a lot of POF about women too.

At this point I feel a bit sorry for her but not a bit interested in here.  Next!

Thursday, October 3, 2019

Commit

I have been reading old post.  This is my fourth blog.  The other three are achieved.  I have been arranging the best of the over 1800 posts into a novel that chronicles my post divorce life, my relationships with Tinkerbell, Billy, depression and how I have changed.  It is the tale of a lonely man find companionship in strip clubs and how he learns to live again.  The old blogs are achieved because it is too easy for people to find you on the internet.  I do not want a potential employer or a potential new girlfriend reading about my past and judging.

Just today I read an article about a company turning down a potential intern for a bikini picture she post on Instagram.  It seem excessive.  I do not understand why people still find it necessary to post on Facebook or Instagram.  I do not have a Facebook account.  I use Instagram to follow about seventy-five of the hottest girls on the web.  The eye candy is nice to look at, but I would never post anything.

Plenty of Fish is starting to produce a couple of conversations but no dates so far. I to one potential woman, "It would be nice to meet you before I have to travel to China in the coming weeks".

Her response was not very promising.  She was pretty busy this weekend.  It is her grandson's birthday. "Sure I will try to do that..." .  I was thinking a kids birthday is going to consume your entire weekend?

My reply was a bit stronger than my usual, "I don't know you yet, so I am not judging and I am guilty of this too when faced with meeting someone new.  It is easy to let things slip and not commit to a first meet.  I used to feel a lot of trepidation.  It is best to just pick a day and commit an hour or things just fizzle and you miss the chance to meet that person on the other side who might just be pretty cool."

Do you think I was to harsh?  If you are on a dating site you should be on there to meet people right?