Sex, Love, and No Regrets

I was at my favorite haunt to celebrate a friend's birthday party when a guy came up to me asked for a light.  Having pretty much stopped smoking save for the odd occasion when the need for nicotine hits me in an attempt to keep myself calm, I motioned to the nearby lighter that was on the table and gave him a friendly smile to say, "Go ahead."  The guy wasn't that bad, to be honest.  Much more fit than the usual monkey that hits on me, the guy ran a wide hand over his semi-skinhead and reached past me to get the lighter.  He lit the cigarette, took a deep puff, before holding the lighter out in front of me to take it back.  I cocked my head and gave him a blank stare as if wondering why he didn't just place it back on the table.

Sometimes I wonder if I should let the bouncers toss these people out.

I guess I should have known.

The DJ had yet to shift to the next song when the guy returned, planted himself beside me, and started to dance. I reached for my glass, refilled it with some beer, then added a dash of extra joss as usual.  I wasn't particularly in the mood to shoot down monkeys as usual and I had promised my partner that I would try to be nicer, so I stayed close to the table and gave the dancing guy enough room to dance his heart out.

Before I knew it, I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard:

"So why aren't you dancing?"

I turned to face the guy and raised my eyebrows.  I offered a smile and motioned towards my friends, explaining, "I'm having fun hanging with my friends."  Realizing he was probably trying to ask me to dance with him, I added, "I usually just dance with my partner.  It is just that he's at work right now."

The guy shrugged and reached for my glass to try and take it from my hand.  I looked at him incredulously, wrapped my free hand against his, and shook my head to say no.

Monkeys.  Maybe I should devote a blogspot to explain why
I call them monkeys?  Hmm...

"It is just a dance," the guy reasoned, and perhaps in a bid to get me interested, reached up to scratch his head again and flash a hint of his meaty bicep and the dark valley of armpit hair.  To his dismay, I just pulled my glass free, took a deep swag, and told him, "Thanks but I'm good."  It was an opening for him to just walk away.  It was an opportunity to save face rather than be shot down.   I guess I was hoping for too much.

"It is your fault you know.  That's what you get for being 'married.'"

I stared at him as he said these words.  There was a smart-ass expression on his face.  It was a futile attempt to make me "realize" how much I was missing.   What he failed to comprehend, however, is that I'm not the one who is missing out on anything.   My life with my partner is a life filled with reasons to be happy literally each and every single day.  As cliché as it sounds,  our being in a relationship has not reduced the happiness in our lives.  Nor has it made us feel like prisoners as some would try to make relationships be perceived as.

This incident reminded me of something my partner shared a few days back.  There was a series of status posts and updates from friends of his that were exulting their being single.  They sprouted out declarations of how being single was a choice equated to choosing to live happy, exciting and adventurous lives.  Now I'm all for embracing happiness as a choice of how one views one's life, and frankly I don't think happiness can only be achieved if one is in a relationship, but I don't however think that embracing a life of sleeping around with some new boy toy each night is more fulfilling that finding someone whom you accepts you as who you are and is someone you accept in such a way in return.  Having access to a variety of orgasmic joys might be sensually  intoxicating but people who think sexual excitement dies once one chooses to be loyal and exclusive to another person are clearly people who fail to know how to truly make love to another.

Yeah, you guys can go fill them bottles over and over again.
I'm no longer part of the stupid repetitive machine.

Fucking is more than just point A being inserted into point B.  Satisfying your partner is more than just having a scheduled fuck day, and it is even far worse if the days in between are spent fooling around with whatever new conquests hits the other's fancy.  The human body is filled with places to explore.  And even more secret places when you consider what happens when two people in love truly choose to explore each other's bodies together.

It is called making love for a reason.

Ending the Run.

As I stated about it in an earlier entry, our relationship didn't start with sex.  But as our relationship continues to grow stronger with the passage of each and every single day, so does the many ways we learn to satisfy each other in many different ways.

"That's what you get for getting married."

You betcha.
I'm absolutely sure that I can speak for both of us when I say we have no regrets being together.     Things aren't perfect, that's for sure.  But things keep getting better each and every single day.

I only wish someday, Mr. Monkey, you get a chance to experience what I do on a daily basis.
I'm sure someday you'll realize you'll grow tired of waking up in the next morning and showing him the door (assuming he even opted to stay the night, that is)  But until you grow up just a bit more, sadly, I don't see it happening any time soon.

So yeah, enjoy the dance.

Don't worry Jakey.  We're still reserving some space on our bed for you.

I'm fine here at the table.
You should see us dance when we're both at the bar.
Maybe then you'll see things a tad better.

Monkeys are Invading, Oh my. Or Should I say, my O?

I was at my favorite haunt earlier at my usual reserved table when a bunch of newcomers showed up and planted themselves beside my table.  At first I was considering being congenial when I realized they were new to the bar after one of them asked a friend, "Where's the rest room in this place?"  Newbies to my favorite haunt nowadays usually meant people who used to go to the currently closed "other" bar which had shut down to do renovations due to a very "timely" fire that happened recently to the place.

Things turned south, however, when two in the group looked at me and noticed that I was sitting and enjoying some mixed sausage dish with my beer rather than scouting for man-meat or dancing.  Two of the group, perhaps wrongly thinking I had less-than-adequate hearing skills, started a conversation about me:

Monkey One:  Pare, You'd think people would go to a bar to drink and dance.
Monkey Two:  Probably cause no one is minding him.  That's what happens when you're not hot.

I had half the mind to educate the monkeys on a few facts, when it dawned upon me any attempt to illuminate them on the truth would fall on brains that were unable to comprehend higher communication.  The facts were:

1) The bar was my favorite haunt.  One that had to a great extent recognized my presence as one they enjoyed having.  While most patrons enjoy a bar just to hunt for man-meat or get drunk, I was actually one of the few who gave back to the bar my own display of gratitude by supporting it in various means, from spreading news of the place to others to generate new customers, or by informing them of any problems that arise (e.g. drunken patrons who need to be shown out, abusively rude patrons who think anyone in the bar can be molested sexually, etc)  As such, I actually am reserved a table for the nights I show up.  I am given some extra space when I am there to celebrate a birthday or other special occasion.  And more.

2) While drinking and dancing was expected of such a place, they also pride themselves in having great food. And that was a service I was indulging in gratefully.  For them to think eating there was a "wrong thing to do" was clearly a show of how inept and ignorant they are of the place.

3) I am happily in a relationship.  I had no intention of hunting for meat.  I had no desire to be the target of people hunting for meat.  In fact, I had two guys trying to eye-volleyball me whom I ignored, and one guy who hit on me in the bathroom who I turned down, gently.   I don't recall any of them actually being approached the whole night.  Oh wait, the waiter did.  I guess that *should* count.  At least he was someone who wanted "something" from them.  Bwahahah!

4) They were monkeys.  For all their pomp, they were barely attractive or noteworthy.  Heck, I only noticed them because they chose to plant themselves near me and had the gall to mouth me off.  No sass.  No style.  No breeding.  Nuff said.

So rather than make an issue out of it, I enjoyed my food and drinks and shared more laughs with my friend, and quietly smiled as the show began and their drinks, which were littering the stage area, were gathered as they were shooed away to move to some other dark corner instead.

While I am given some level of special treatment, it is a bonus that I have been given having earned it.  I am a regular of the place and in more times than one have shown that I give back to the bar in many ways.    I only hope that the place those monkeys frequent reopens soon, just so that they stop polluting places I hang out at with their clearly misguided self-delusion of self-importance.

Monkeys, be warned.
I bark back when pushed.
Don't wait for the point I bite.