Alright. I’ll be honest with you.
I have gotten myself into all sorts of adventures and misadventures. All throughout the course of a week. With upsides and downsides. The type of fiascos that leave me wondering how the hell I got here in the first place.
So last week, there was a very important day off from work. Whilst most people would spend their off-day in peace, watching TV dinners, I was left to “hurry up” my work out routine, due to constant prodding of friends. Ahh. Friends, what would we do without themmm…
So, my friend, whom we’ll call A – has been prodding me for weeks to meet up with her, and “unwind” at the club, because quite frankly everyone’s been dipping their head into work that there hasn’t even been time to connect, share stories, or even share bear hugs.
A is a fun loving woman with a fondness for alcohol, she is very mixed (Burmese/Korean) and she is one of the most insanely interesting people I’ve ever known in my whole life. She has such an open world view of tolerance, and has an innate ability to knock down barriers of drama into one liner sentences. (“You don’t need your ex, you can tell him to #$%^ himself.”) It’s the kind of rash, brazen truth that you need especially when you spend days hanging out with a huge amount of conservative filipinos – a voice of dissent sometimes opens your eyes to perspectives.
A hung out with her Nigerian guy friend. And we were all three, chatting, talking about life and little things, when all of a sudden – A drink arrives in front of Mr. Nigeria’s tableside.
“A drink. For you. Courtesy of the man behind.” – The waiter informed us.
We all look back, and I sh%t you not, he really looks like a carbon copy of Bill Cosby. The fatherly smile, the statuesque frame, the suit, etc. He waves, smiles, and comes over.
“I brought this man a drink because I don’t see a fair bit of Africans here in this country – and I thought I ought to buy a drink for my brothah.” He said.
He also said that he was an IT worker of sorts, that he is from Los Angeles, and that he’s new here but has been by far, unable to connect to strangers and make friends. OHH.
“Ok.You’re from LA…” I began, as an introductory sentence. Then he exclaimed in joy, as if the manner by which I used the acronyms has never been figured out before. My exact thoughts were: Dear lord, here comes another one of those Western folk who has absolutely NO idea about how familiarized Asians are with American culture. Do we look like we still live in tree houses? Oh – you’re surprised we KNOW english? Well, maybe this will take your breath away – we have INDOOR PLUMBING too!
So.. we proceeded to merrily drink, till I realised that Bill was hitting on me – in the most blatant manner ever. Telling me how I was the first one he noticed from way behind there, how he can tell that I’m a very sensitive, gentle woman, but I’m strong and a bit defiant too ( I had a gym bag in tow). All sorts of crap generalisations to get women smiling – in short – false pretenses that could never pass up as ‘charm’.
A and Mr. Nigeria decided it was time to go to the club, so we eventually ended up in a club nearby. Of course, this goes without saying – since Bill Cosby already joined the table crew, we had to bring him along as well.
So.. The dancing was so-so. Lots of people were bopping their heads, and frustratingly trying to mimic the moves of Mr. Nigeria. (Here’s a hint: When you meet Africans, they really ARE that cool, and they really ARE very very suave in the dance floor. However, any attempt to mimic them will most probably result in failure because they are one of a kind.)
Bill Cosby kept on wanting to dance with me – while I skillfully evaded, of course. I was evasive, almost to a point of being rude. I tried dancing with this Chinese fella, but he sort of didn’t know what to do with a woman (he was really awkward and it felt like he didn’t really want to move things further) – so that dance routine was short lived too.
Then – out of no where, there was a Hugh Grant replica on the dancefloor, aimlessly trying to dance amongst the crowd. We sort of somehow managed to find our way to each other and dance – we danced like this was the last minute we had on earth. By golly gee, bless Maroon 5 and that Moves like Jagger song.
So, of course – I was mystified. He was such a beautiful creature, despite of the intoxication, despite the half open eyes and the alcohol wrung breath. Out of no where, he grabs me, and pulls me in to a deep kiss, the type of kisses that is reserved for close doors, a kiss so potentially scandalous that I would’ve gotten expelled from school had I been in campus, a kiss that might have disowned me from my heritage as this supposedly “conservative” chick.
Then – after a lot of kissy kissy time, I wanted to take him outside for a chat. We passed by one of his mates, his “wing-man” for the night – who eventually told him that he was “bailing out” – presumably thinking that his partner will be hitting home run that evening.
When we were outside, in the midst of drunken banter – he answered my questions with his crisp British accent – I began by saying (post kiss) “Ummmm…….. So whats your name?”
He told me his name, what he was doing – capped with the sentence “Will you take me home with you tonight please?? Please – I promise you lots, and lots of wonderful kisses and beautiful memories in the morning.”
Of course when HE said it, it sounded more like: Will yo’ tahk mey hohm witya’ tonought pleaahse, I prohmis youh lohts and lohts of wohndahful kihsses …”
It was absolute blasphemy! In one hand, I kept on thinkin – Ok, If you wanted to, you would, but the mere fact that you’re debating this inside your head, means that it might not be such a great idea.
Sooooo. I politely declined. I told him that I wasn’t that kind of woman. Despite his constant prodding of “Why noooouuught (why not) ” queries – I left him alone. I got his phone number, but trashed it several days later.
Meanwhile, after my friend A saw me – she told me that Bill Cosby left in despair. Heartbroken. But that I shouldn’t really feel guilty because in truth, in the real world, there is no easy way to let down people. There is no easy way to reject, to trample upon feelings and let go.
Here are my golden realisations from that evening:
- And yet, I knew what was going to happen next : I was going to briefly obsess about Hugh Grant for a few days, beat myself up over the idea that he did not remember me enough to warrant a second “date” – and perhaps even let him off the hook for wanting a 1 night only in my pants. My old self would probably be checking my iPhone every 3 minutes or so, even more reluctantly during shower periods- because – we, women – convince ourselves of all sorts of excuses that we fabricate for men ( What if he really wanted to call but he REALLY accidentally pressed “delete contact”) F%#* That. This is the “I am NOT wasting another minute doing that” Era. And it begins… TODAY.I shall call this:
Moping Management : Mope for a controlled number of time. Then after that, we know what the Brits used to say – simply Keep Calm, and Carry On. - Bill Cosby is probably drowning himself in alcohol because of that rejection – and probably adds on to the hopeless despair that he feels. He will be sad for a short while but eventually bump back into it. I advise going online to date.
- I also realised that this is the same kind of cycle that I always go through with men – I meet men, I obsess, things start falling off.
The last part rings true so much that I have decided that the road to recovery is steep – and it’s not easy. The road to recovery is balance, and setting yourself fine boundaries for what you are and what you aren’t – and have a certain % of OKAYness before picturing a date as a potential partner.
This OKAYness means a certain amount of positivity fund – or a stability check. It means not getting wigged out if he doesn’t call. It means not losing your sense of self, your own awesomeness just because you’ve met someone new hovering into your world. It means being OK with all of the choices that define our sense of self, and not apologising or “custom fitting” yourself to suit preferences of others..
I know I still have a long way ahead of me – but there is indeed a plan. We definitely began that evening – Boundaries were checked, moping was managed.
The next few steps would probably involve giving up all the other shit in my life that weighs me down – in order to live the best possible one that can be. Don’t get me wrong – I’m still in search of that man-beast – The one that ends up as a nice prince charming lad in the end of the storybook.
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