Sunday, June 29, 2008

Bait and Switch

I used to have this boyfriend who I saw a lot of in the afternoons. I'd work for half a day, go see him then head back to work for a few hours.

You know what I mean by "see" right?

Those were great afternoons, real moments of sunshine that we engineered specifically to be outside of reality. Not for everyone I suppose but kind of perfect for someone like me. It wasn't, as it turned out, all about sex but we were both pretty passionate. I had timing back then. I probably still do I just haven't put it to the test lately. This one time he was kneeling at the stereo changing CDs and talking freaking incessantly about some finer point of music about which I was simply not interested. I was trying to derail the lecture and he was trying to ignore me. I will not be ignored. So when he turned I faded back just a little. He leaned, I sat on my heels, he growled and I grinned. I made the boy crawl across the carpet after me and he liked it. If you met him I can pretty much guarantee that it'd be one of the top three stories he'd tell you about me.

Anyway, there was something I always thought was weird about us. The more I think about it, though, I bet it's not that unusual.

I'd show up and he'd open the door and we'd be all over each other right away. I'd have picked up his newspaper off the door mat and have my backpack on and he would frame my face with his hands and kiss me until I couldn't even remember to keep my hands curled around the newsprint. I would, however, be able to keep a firm and commanding grip on the front of his shirt or his hair or whatever I'd managed to capture in that moment before I got in the door. This could go on for a few minutes and cause a certain amount of scorching to the hallway's paint. Then there'd be a break, a chaste kiss on the lips, a breathy "hi" and wham on to the practical. "Come on in, do you want something to drink?" "Yes, juice please and I have to pee like a racehorse. Oh and check my bag I brought you that book I was talking about." "OK, I'm on it. I'm making sandwiches too." We'd take care of all the business then. Later on it'd be hot again and was fabulous and fun and inescapable in a great way but the switch was uncanny to me.

Other people do stuff like that, right? Don't humor me but don't lie either, polling one's blog audience is scientific, isn't it?


  1. Anonymous3:44 PM

    What do you mean by "see?"

  2. We cleaned each other's glasses.

  3. Yeah - sometimes I'm surprised by how quickly we can go from "dirty" to "mom and dad" mode....

  4. Never. But I think you are missing out on a career as a racy fiction writer.

  5. You know, I've wanted to be a racy fiction writer since I was about 12 years old. I have a ton of material in my personal archives.

  6. This is one of those times where I've been aquainted with somebody for years, but don't really know them at all.

    And a certain amount of regret at the not knowing.

    Kind of like I missed out on something.


  7. I always worry about blogging out that sex in the afternoon blog... because I never know when anyone will be reading it.
    "You made a woman meow?" is all I could think.
    But yes a resounding a thousand times... other people do this stuff too.
    Passion! Its not just a fruit.
    Good for you dear!

  8. Clemo, oddly enough that whole relationship went down right before I met you so technically you did know that exact girl but then again not so much. Weird, huh?

    Gert, I don't blog a ton of it but, you know, it's a fact so I'm OK putting some of it out there.

  9. Yeah, it happens. I think sometimes you just gotta get that first clinch out of the way, you know? Then you can move on to the mundane stuff.