Montreal: LR: Flipping the Sexual Script (Part 2)
Did you ever stop to think why Congress voted in 1970 to outlaw the use of sound to sell tobacco? Did you ever wonder why you could repeat what the teacher had just said when she stopped and asked, “Are you listening?” even though you hadn’t been listening? Did you ever consider why eyewitnesses can always agree on precisely what they heard, but none can recall with clarity quite what they saw?
So I’ve flaked on them twice. Then HBfashiondesign and her roommate walk to where they thought I was staying. Of course, I’m not there. So it’s almost like a third failed attempt at meeting. What’s next?
The next day I’m at Tam-Tams with KitKatMan. He’s witness to this crazy phone call. Basically I call her and explain that I attempted to meet, but I was late because of traffic and not knowing the city. I sincerely apologize. Then, assuming I still have her interest, I try to structure a new Day2 that will actually put me closer to her. In other words, not a neutral meeting place, but I will come straight to her home. Why? Because clearly I am unreliable, I have flaked twice already, and I’d hate for her to invest more time or resources on someone, not even knowing if he’ll be there or not. This way, she assumes no risk. The risk is all on me. (How’s that for reframing?)
It’s a fun conversation. She’s painting her living room. I talk about how I would not normally volunteer myself for work, especially since I am on vacation, but I feel bad about flaking and I would be willing to come help paint to make it up to her. I describe that it might actually be fun and we’d get into a paint fight and then make dinner together. Well, she bites—but she wants to finish the paining herself. Go ahead. The time we’ll meet is yet-to-be-determined, as I am set to call her back, I think at 9pm. I tell her that’s too late for dinner, but she should have some popsicles (she was eating one on the phone) and red wine ready when I get there.
I call later and catch her and finally—third day in a row at attempting this Day2—we’re set to meet at a particular Metro station. And we were set to meet late, like 10pm. I drove to the location and I’m looking for her to show in a red Turcel. Quickly I realize how many people in Montreal drive little red cars. And she’s late, getting later.
I’m thinking karma. I’ve flaked on her twice and now she’s getting me back. I call the house and get her roommate. She says that HBfashiondesign left to pick me up. Perhaps we have miss-communicated on the location (again). I tell the roommate specifically where I am and that I will stay there in case she calls or comes back—send her out again!
So I wait and wait and I sit there outside the Metro writing up another LR. And she finally shows…but look who’s with her…the roommate that I had been seducing on the phone…we finally meet…and she’s cute as can be. Not gorgeous like my girl, but adorably cute with ravenous eyes. Me likes.
And you see what had happened. There had been some kind of mix-up with the meet-up and my girl indeed went home, got my message (and the roommate) and came back out to find me. So it’s like eleven and here they BOTH are. I agree to follow in my vehicle. And you know what I’m thinking. Look at this continued doubled pursuit, look at the attraction and intrigue I have build with both, look at the email how the original girl is protective of and ‘loves’ the roommate, look how sexy they are, look at the time…is this really headed where I think?
So we get to their place and they are inseparable. Not affectionate with each other by any means, but neither will leave my company. I’m playing it by ear. They give me a tour and show me the rooms they have painted. They have good tastes, and we put on some chill music. I find out that they have known each other for a year, from school, and my girl studies fashion design and the other girl fashion marketing at a local reputable college. At nineteen, they are both very involved in the Montreal fashion-scene and putting together shows, etc.
No wine. We have some cookies. We’re in the kitchen. I introduce them both to The Cube. They love it. Things correlate easily with the ladder. The horse looks the same—easy to paint it as me without explicitly saying such. The horse is prancing around the bottom of my girl’s cube and running past the cube of the roommate. I’m trying to think how to escalate. I suggest a movie. They don’t have anything they haven’t seen, it’s late, etc etc.
My girl brings up handwriting analysis. I must have mentioned it at the club. Haven’t done this in a long time, but not a problem, I can show them the basics. For fun, I have them write in French. By the way, both girls are well educated and truly bilingual. It’s nice. They love the analysis and I show them the different traits in a teaching frame. My girl is much more inquisitive, but the other girl will not stop looking at me with this sly smile. I still can’t figure out the dynamic here.
I figure I need to give them time to speak to each other. I walk off to my girl’s bedroom and say, “When you get a minute, I’ll show you something really amazing.” I figure I’ll improvise some kind of dual massage. They exchange a few words in French, but it’s not long until they are both in the room. I instruct them to sit on the bed. My girl has to go to the bathroom.
While she’s gone, the roommate lies across the bed. I lay across her with my head on her abs and I start to show her how to give a hand massage. I believe I could have kissed her, but I did not want my initial girl to walk in on that. If this wasn’t going into threesome territory, my loyalty is still toward the original girl. Good call.
HBfashiondesign comes back and sees me lounging on her roommate with her hand in mine. She maintains her smile, but initiates conversation (in French, of course) with the roommate. They are both smiling and laughing and it is clear they are talking about me. Playfully, I’m like, “Okay okay, let me in on the joke, let’s practice English, what are you two saying about me?”
Well, my girl speaks, and I get slammed. As directly and clearly as can be, she says: “You’re in my bed and you’re touching my roommate. I believe that you know these things, that you learn pop psychology, to make women comfortable around you. So you can sleep with them. In fact, I don’t think you even care which one of us.”
Damn. Looks like this wasn’t going to be a threesome after all. Maybe ‘taking everything as an IOI’ has nipped me in the ass. In retrospect, I actually wonder to what degree they had communicated ahead of time to keep things ambiguous and a little flirty, especially with the second girl. Testing my interest in the initial girl. These girls are definitely socially savvy, as most true beauties are.
So it was a test, of sorts. Some guys would say a heavy ‘shit-test.’ Big deal. Most of the ‘shit-test’ stuff I just roll with instead of debating or deflecting. Someone once called it ‘synching with resistance.’ Sort of an acceptance then a reframe; pacing and leading. Okay, cool, let’s reframe this. And it goes a little something like this….
“I’m really amazed by how perceptive you are. You’re a little off in your analysis, but I love the way you observe and interpret things. And I appreciate you ability to just come forward and bluntly tell me your impression. I value directness and honest opinions. You’re right…I love to be around beautiful women. I love the company of attractive women, but that is not enough. For me to be truly comfortable opening up, I need to know that you also have other qualities. If a girl is genuine and real, and intelligent, and perceptive, and has a positive energy and a great outlook on life, then that is when I really consider taking things physically. And that’s why I study things that you call ‘pop psychology’ because they help me screen out people that I don’t match with. So I don’t waste my time. Sex as a physical act is mere athletics, stuff like The Cube and handwriting analysis help me find those rare women that are compatible emotionally. We’re at a crossroads here because I truly find you both attractive and compatible. I would be lying if I told you otherwise. It’s a strange circumstance because I’m on a path to certain adventure and a connection like you have never imagined and it looks like only one of you can join me. If you think about the things I have shown you tonight, then we all know whom.”
I said this as a monologue. I delivered this calmly and matter-of-factly, more slowly, and probably with even more words. Yes, they both sat quietly and listened.
I’m intentionally ambiguous, especially there at the end. During this little monologue I was looking back and forth at them both, probably a bit more at HBfashiondesign who seemed to be devouring my words with her eyes. The other girl sits peacefully with an unchanging smile. But when I feel like I’ve said enough (perhaps too much I’m thinking), I turn away. It works. Without any verbal exchange, I hear someone, one girl, leave the room. I turn back and I’m face-to-face with HBfashiondesign.
I say, “I’m here for you. And I’m here for a reason.” And she literally explodes in tears and embraces me. I just hold her tight and let her cry. Finally she asks me to let her roommate know that she is okay. Sure.
I go into the other girl’s room and she’s just changed into a nightgown. I say, “Remember how your horse was just kinda running past you and how HBfashiondesign saw the same horse but he was behaving much differently? Well, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and the attraction here is unmistakable, but, um, it looks like I’m here for her. She has something bothering her, I don’t know if you know about it, but I’m going to help her.” She nods and says nothing. I give her a big hug and say goodnight.
I go back to HBfashiondesign and I just have this convincing attitude that I can help her. I’m not thinking about sex, just that vague concept of “leave them better than you found them.” And I have this conviction that I can do something profound and leave her feeling great. I take on this healer frame that is incredibly empowering and I say “I can help you. I can make you feel amazing.” She starts to tell me that she has a feeling of emptiness, this ‘void’ inside her. She cries a lot for no reason. I tell her that I do not need details or specifics to make her feel great.
At this point she tells me that she’s not going to have sex with me. She’s not ready. Okay. But she further states that she’s not attracted to me ‘that way’ and can never be. Ouch, that hurts a little. Yeah, I got LJBF’ed. I’ve got that voice that’s saying “You went from being a pop-psychology entertainer to a friend with no benefits, do not become her therapist!” But what I can’t convey is this strange sense of purpose that I had anyway. I was going to do it; I was going to try my best to make her feel great without even thinking of sex.
First I said something to her that kinda seemed to me like I was flip-flopping at the time. But as I look back, I think it was a strong thing to say to get her chasing. I said: “I really want to help you, but my role is not as a therapist. We all have different roles in our lives…you’re a daughter, a sister, a roommate, a best friend, a student…but the role I’m interested in is you as a woman. I know that we are meant to be more than friends. But I have to leave soon, so I can accept not having you as a lover. And I want to give you this experience, because I know it will make you feel remarkable inside and allow you to move into the future full of hope and passion.”
So I was careful of several things. I reiterated that I’m not a therapist—I just know how to communicate in ways that make people feel good. Absolutely everything I said was positive. I made it a point for her not to tell me specifically of any traumatic ‘instances.’ I was not ‘healing’ her, just giving her a new perspective. I knew I could do this just based on my conviction and self-confidence and the other ‘inner’ attributes that we talk about. It’s all the same.
I had her close her eyes and hold my hands as we sat across from each other on the bed. I first drew her awareness to tangible sensations (being aware of noises in the room, temperatures and textures, breathing, the sound of my voice) and then led her more and more into feelings (like feeling complete, feeling whole, having a sense of purpose, a sense of certainty, hope, assurance, sureness, confidence, etc etc) Then I led her on this relaxing guided visualization journey that was utterly pleasing and vivid. Nothing really involved, just leading her imagination. Just using the power of my voice and carefully chosen words to bring her a pleasant and positive experience.
Afterwards, she tells me how good it felt and I explain to her that whenever she feels something negative or she feels that ‘void’ creeping in, she’ll remember this experience and all those wonderful positive sensations. I describe to her how I watched her physiology change and how she would melt or smile or grip my hands. It was fun. I left at like 5:30 in the morning. She had to work so early (she is a physical trainer at a gym) and said she’d just stay up. I left her on a really upbeat note and I hugged her and reminded her that I didn‘t know how long I would be staying, but I value our friendship and I hope we both make an effort to get together and do something, you know as friends.
And I leave with that mentality. I’m comfortable with being just friends. Actually, honestly, I’m kinda thinking this—you know it’s too bad that I am leaving because I bet she would be really cool to have as a friend. And well, since we’d just be friends, I bet I could get in easily will all her hot fiends! Haha, I’m only a man. But yeah, other than that thought, I’m really cool with just being friends. The point is, I really left feeling like I made a positive impact on her life and I did not need to pursue her sexually.
Now if she pursues me…that’s a different story….
Bon moment. Aime la vie. GoneSavage