More on my hooker when I’m in the mood. In the mean time….
I’m in the process of relocating right now. I’ll be travelling for most of the next five months. I travel a lot for work, but I almost never end up trapped up in the corporate hell of downtown convention centers and chain restaurants. (I have been through that ringer before, and vowed never to go back. I’ve never seen so many uninspiring chumps in my life… and the people one surrounds oneself with can influence even the mightiest oak of a man.) I’ll be all over the goddamn place — on farms and in clubs and laboratories and cheap hotels — so look for posts about game from Africa, Europe, and Latin America in the coming months.
In the meantime, I’ve recently had an interesting refresher course in why I’m not already settled down with a girl of my own age and social background. Because, you see, for the last three weeks, I have been living the lifestyle of a settled man — though with one crucial difference, which I will explain below. It was in my financial interests to give up my apartment earlier than my work committments were done. In fact, I kept taking work offers well after I knew I wouldn’t be living here anymore because the thought of making New York income without paying New York prices was very appealing.
At the time, I was having a fun little fling with a girl who was very into me. She had a nice big apartment with plenty of room to spare. When the moment came, I basically told her I would be gone by Calendar Date X, even though I wished I could stay until Calendar Date Y for work reasons and to “spend more time with the people I care about.” That was all the prompting she needed to offer her place to me for the time between X and Y.
For the last couple of weeks I’ve been living at her apartment, basically in the style of a boyfriend, with both of us understanding it won’t last. The crucial difference that I mentioned above is that I have this girl so well-trained it’s almost a shame to leave and be on my merry way (almost). She loves to cook for me, she rubs my feet, she does all my laundry and she even basically packed all my boxes and arranged to have them shipped cross-country for me. And she hooks me up with all kinds of free computer gear from her work. And she pays for my drinks. So I can’t say I feel exactly whipped.
Nevertheless, she’s a very jealous girl, and from a certain perspective she has my nuts in a vice. A couple of times I’ve felt like telling her to go fuck herself and I’ve held off because she has all my stuff and I have nowhere else to stay on such short notice, and important work I need to be doing in the meantime. So I’ve basically been on my best behavior like the most whipped beta, foot massages and elaborate dinners or no. Sure I still flirt shamelessy when we go out, enough to make her mad and get jealous and wet and suck me that much more enthusiastically when we get home. But I’m not exactly picking up numbers left and right, and certainly not going out with girls and bringing them back home.
Sure, I’ve got regular access to quality pussy, plus someone running errands for me. But being in this situation for just a few weeks already makes me feel a little antsy. I see the flaws in this girl, how her sell-by date is approaching, how she tends to fuck like a dude with a pussy even though afterwards she clings like a ten-year-old girl.
In the long run, however, I am grateful. It’s been a fine, fun couple of weeks. There’s no harm done. She’s had her alpha-charge and now maybe she can settle down to a nice beta and think of me while they “make love” and go shopping for organic bok choy and listen to “This American Life.” I’m moving on to more interesting things. And this little harmless session of playing the part of the loyal boyfriend has reminded me of some of my core principles.
Personal freedom is only worth sacrificing in small doses, and only in very specific circumstances, and only for a very good reason, and only with some sort of pre-determined end in sight. In the small, limited sense that I “need” this particular for this short period of time, I’ve sold myself short. Even in a longer relationship, the kind I might really commit to, I normally wouldn’t let myself feel trapped by circumstance. I’m not truly trapped now, and like I said, it’s a pretty sweet deal (she came in and refilled my wine glass as I was writing that last sentence). But it’s all a reminder of how important it is to make sure that every thing you do is a choice, and not something you felt forced into.
Any girl who feels like changing my mind about all that, who’s absolutely stunning, who is 23 or younger, who can do and wants to do for me all of the things listed above, and can also paint or recite poetry or play Schubert on the piano, can feel free to drop me a line…
In the meantime, I’m planning back-to-back posts in October comparing the women of Ethiopia with the women of Hollad.