Change of Heart

So as it turns out, resisting my drunken inclination to have sex with Jersey was a wise choice. I bit the bullet and texted him last night just to see where his head was at. He said he’d had a hangover all day and felt like shit at work. I asked him if he was glad that we didn’t do what we wanted to do, and he remarked that it would’ve been fun. I agreed. I asked if he was done with his random curiosity, and he said he had to see what happens with the girlfriend first.

So in other words, we would’ve had sex then he would’ve realized it was a mistake and while I naturally would’ve tried to forge some type of friendship with a guy who’s been inside of my body, he would’ve pushed me away and seeing him at work would be weird and possibly irritating or hurtful and that would’ve sucked for me. And if it sucked for me, I’d possibly make it suck for him too.

And thus we see how, with even the slightest utilization of forethought and restraint, bad situations can be avoided. I’m typically not one for either of these concepts, which is likely why I have so many problems with men as it is.

I’m not mad at Jersey. It’ll be slightly weird seeing him again at work or wherever for the first time, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s water under the bridge. It was a good time, but I don’t have any real interest in him, which is a good thing…otherwise I might be hurt right now.

My only concern now is whether or not he can keep what happened to himself. Given that he does have his girlfriend and she hangs out with us from time to time, I would think it’d be in his best interest not to go around running his mouth about what happened. But Lord knows no one’s mouth runs as quickly as a man’s when it comes to sexual activity. I’m discreet and I don’t like people in my business unless I invite them into it myself. I especially don’t want people I work with in my business. Everyone knows men just love to brag though.

In other news, last night’s party was wack. It was thrown by a couple of guys from the job who throw parties from time to time. I’ve enjoyed their parties in the past, but I think I’ve outgrown them. I took Nicki, one of my best friends that I’ve known since college, and I’m glad she was there because otherwise I would’ve sat around alone with no one to talk to being as I wasn’t interested in speaking to or hanging around most of the people there that I know besides exchanging polite greetings. It was a lot of people from the job, naturally.

None of the coworker friends that I’d asked beforehand were going, but I figured that at least one or two people that I like would show up and I’d have some fun. As it turns out, that wasn’t the case. It was a bunch of guys I’d never do, a couple of people I’m cool with but not really friends enough with to hang out with, several women I know who I know don’t care for me and whom I couldn’t give one fuck about if my life depended on it, people I know or know of and are indifferent about, and then a bunch of people I didn’t know. So me and Nicki spent most of the night sitting by ourselves.

One interesting occurrence was the presence of an ex of mine – Mr. Smooth. When I mentioned that I haven’t had good sex in over 2 years? Mr. Smooth would be the person with whom that good sex was had. But like all my romances, it was short-lived. We were dealing for a few months then he shut down and we fell out and shortly thereafter he found himself some basic looking woman to drag around, and whom he’s still dragging around to this very day, judging from various Facebook pictures I’ve seen. Until a couple of months ago, I hadn’t spoken to Mr. Smooth since November 2010. I only broke the silence to wish him a happy retirement and to say I’m sorry that we couldn’t get along better. Much to my amazement, he actually responded to thank me.

He walked in last night and I give Nicki the lowdown on the situation. Strangely, his basic chick wasn’t in attendance. Nicki remarks a couple times on how he looks over at me like he wants to say something to me. I certainly wasn’t going to initiate contact with him though, because I don’t have anything to say to him. I’m completely indifferent to his existence now, which is perfect. It was a big venue, and thus plenty of room for me to keep my distance.

But…because my life is my life, of course it wouldn’t exactly happen like that. Shortly after he got there, he got into line to get a drink. The one drink line, might I add. Big ass party and only one area set up for drinks, which was annoying. Anyway, I had just finished a drink and wanted another one. But when I look at the line and see him right at the back of it, I say fuck it and told Nicki I’d just wait. But then I say fuck THAT because I wasn’t going to let his presence dictate my activities. So I got in line right behind him. I couldn’t help but to notice that his upper body is looking slightly more fit. Be that as it may, I was successfully able to navigate through the line with him standing about a foot in front of me without issue. He got his drink and went on his way; I got my drink and went on my way.

I finish that drink after a little while and get in line again. And right at that moment, who comes sauntering up the steps from the bottom level to get another drink? Mr. Smooth, of course. Now he’s behind me. And this time, I eventually had to end up addressing him, which was awkward. Twice. The straws were for some reason kept not at the main drink table, but on a second table to the side of it, which is behind you and to the right once you get your drink. So naturally, when I turn around to reach for a straw, whose body is right there blocking my way? Mr. Smooth’s. I said a polite “Excuse me” without bothering with eye contact, and he moved. Then I had to excuse myself past him again to squeeze through the line and back out to the floor. That time, even though I wasn’t looking directly at him, I could see out of my peripheral vision that he was looking down in my direction and his head followed me as I squeezed past. I’ll never know exactly what he was looking at though…either my drink, my face, or my cleavage. One of life’s unsolvable mysteries.

Exes are stupid.

Hi!

It’s been a while, and as such, a few of my “then” current points of interest are no longer on my plate as of now. But for the sake of continuity, I will update accordingly:

Pretty Ricky: He kept his word and took me out to dinner in early January. It was decent; we got to converse more candidly than we ever have and eat good food all in one go. But alas, I couldn’t get any. He said he’d been with someone for 6 months and wanted to act right. Cool…no hard feelings. No feelings at all, actually. I’d obviously redeveloped a crush on him, but it was nothing major. We haven’t talked much since then. A lot of crazy shit has been going on at work for which he’s been taking a lot of heat. Then on top of all that, his father died last month. I’ve sent him a couple of texts from time to time for encouragement purposes, but that’s been the extent of my contact with him aside from seeing him in passing at work.

Mr. Smooth: No contact with him in over 5 months now. He crosses my mind on occasion but only as an objective part of my history. He had a party last month and I saw him in some pictures on Facebook and it appears that he’s still dragging that raggedy looking chick around. Ah well – that infatuation has run its course.

Sex: Still Sexless in Seattle. Monday marked a year. Blah. I’m still waiting for someone to stand out from the crowd and no one is. *Yawn* It’s not a totally bad feeling though. A large part of the perseverance has been in proving that I can be disciplined enough to go for so long. Part of it is atonement…vindictiveness. It’s weird.

Anyway…at aforementioned dinner with Pretty Ricky, I learned a couple of interesting facts. The first of which was that Curly would be coming to work out of our building. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, given our history. We don’t work directly together, but I was afraid of awkwardness given our sexual past and the fact that we traditionally haven’t gotten along. But he came and I’ve seen him a few times and we’re cordial and sans issues. He axed me on Facebook, but that’s no biggie. I guess he’s miffed from the last time he hit me up for ass whenever it was and I told him I wasn’t interested in being his bootycall. I must say though, that man certainly does wear a suit well. I love a man in a suit and he fills them out so well with his muscular frame. I’ve been tempted, but I’d definitely never try to hit him up now…too much potential for mess. But a sex-starved girl can and WILL certainly look…

The second tidbit that Pretty Ricky informed me of was of the arrival of someone I thought of as a bitter enemy at the time: Caesar.

I met Caesar a few years ago while I was hanging out and was smitten from the moment I laid eyes on him. We talked for a while in his truck later and eventually made out. We exchanged numbers and left things on a good note, but nothing ever got off the ground. SEVERE personality clash. There were several rounds of us starting off on a good note with mutual expressions of interest, and then suddenly everything spiraling downhill into intense cursing/insult matches within a matter of days. We wouldn’t talk for months and months and then I’d reach out and the vicious cycle would repeat. Before he became my boss in January, I hadn’t talked to him in probably like a year. And as explained, things did NOT end well. So when Pretty Ricky told me he was my new boss, I was on edge. I didn’t know what to expect. Pretty Ricky was aware of our background and asked if we’d get along. I couldn’t be sure…

Well it turns out that Caesar wasn’t harboring any hard feelings. My first day working with him, he acknowledged me cordially and I did the same. He’s gained a few pounds since we first met, but I still find him attractive. He still has a cute face…pretty smile…nice hair. Within his first 2 weeks we were flirting and he’d given me his number and he was definitely interested. Only…he’s my boss. There’s my direct supervisor and then there’s him. And he has complete control over me. So he said from the get-go that he wasn’t going to touch me until one of us happened to get assigned elsewhere. I thought I’d be able to break him eventually but he’s still holding fast to his resolution. And thus…sexual tension galore. He’s very hot and cold – sometimes he’s a dick to me and sometimes he’s nice. Sometimes he answers my texts and sometimes he doesn’t. But one thing that I’ve realized now that I work for him is that he’s a freaking micro-managing, controlling asshole. He is a pure dictator…hence the nickname. So now I see why we didn’t get along so well. I thought it was just me but now I see that he’s just a very dominating, controlling person. But of course I have to be more careful with him now because he’s my boss, so even if hes says or does something that ticks me off, whether professionally or personally, I can’t just start running off at the mouth like before.

That is all for now…

His “Professor”

Pretty Ricky’s professor ended up pushing the term paper due date back a week, so it was due yesterday instead of last Monday. We spent almost 6 hours in his office finishing it up on Sunday. He had sent my rough draft to his twin brother, who’s a college professor. His brother chopped it up some and added some helpful advice/remarks, so we basically went off of those as well as making our own edits. I wasn’t necessarily in agreement with everything Pretty Ricky wanted to do, but at the end of the day, it is HIS paper, so I let him be in control (or at least feel like he was). He’s taken to calling me “Professor.”

In between working on the paper, he ordered Chinese for us and we talked and goofed around some. Just think, back in July I’m bitching him out for talking shit about me and we’re not speaking or barely speaking since then, and now we’re like the best of friends. Or something like that. He’s still keeping me at arm’s length though because I noticed that the number he gave me is to one of the two work cell phones he has, and I’ve noticed he doesn’t carry this second cell phone on him often because he has his main one and he doesn’t really need it. But it’s a required piece of equipment – we all got one – so that’s really the only reason he has it. I guess he’s reluctant to give me his real phone number just because of our history. The funny thing is, I have it. I just can’t use it.

Our dinner outing was originally supposed to be tonight, but it’s finals time for him as the semester comes to a close so he wants to buckle down and concentrate. He last day is Dec 7th and he suggested then, so next Tuesday it is. It’s all rainy and dreary today anyway.

I find myself still attracted to him. I was from the first night I laid eyes on him and remained so even through all the drama and the many times we weren’t speaking. Sunday, I happened to glance at his hands and I remembered how they used to touch me. I still remember the first night we spent together almost two years ago now where I left his house the next morning with hickies all over my boobs and chest and neck. I remember how he loved to go down on me, and certain texts he sent me like “When can I suck on that juicy pussy?” I remember leaving his bed one morning and being right back to work with him that night, exchanging casual words and innocent banter with him around other people like we’d never seen each other naked. The secrecy of it was a huge turn on.

But alas, then came the “feelings” and from there the rejection and the hurt and the drama and now…here we are. Who knows how long this will last or what will come of it. For all I know, we’ll end up getting into it again somehow and will be right back to avoiding eye contact with each other soon enough. But for now it’s kind of nice to have reclaimed an old friend. When we fell out, I missed him as a lover, but also just as much as a friend.

I wouldn’t be against us winding up in bed together next week, to be quite honest. He was great in bed, that’s for sure. He’s still hot, clearly. And obviously I could use some.

In other news, Mr. Smooth threw a party on Saturday, and I went. It was wack. There was, like, no effort put into it. The venue was in a borderline neighborhood and the party was held in a big, white, homely looking room. No attempt at decor. The crowd was also very borderline. If I had to guess, I’d say they went and sold tickets in the projects. Lots of hoodrats and dudes who think wearing sunglasses inside at night is the business. The room was dark, the music was blaring, and the room was mostly dance floor, so really, it was more so like a club. I don’t like clubs. I don’t dance unless I’m drunk; I more so like to mingle and talk to people and be seen looking cute. And thus I like chill bars and parties that provide for such, not club-like atmospheres.

Furthermore, the “bar” was merely a tiny table with two bartenders. Thus the drink line was about 20 minutes long. It was during a stint in this line that I first caught sight of Mr. Smooth. I looked slightly to the right and ah, there’s “Marie.” He was getting their drinks from behind the bar, a handy privilege afforded him as one of the party throwers. They both had on neon glow-in-the-dark bracelets. Gay. I’d end up seeing them quite a few times throughout the night, all hugged up. At one point they were dancing no more than 12 feet from me. I’m sorry, but she’s just not hot. She just looks old, and this came from one of my coworkers on her own accord. And she knows nothing about me and Mr. Smooth so it wasn’t like she was trying to appease me. She said “Marie” looks about 50. I’d say 45. For someone such as Mr. Smooth who likes to refer to his gray hairs as “highlights,” and fancies himself to be 28 instead of 38, I think it’s amusing that the new love of his life looks older than him.

But hey, I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder. He obviously thinks she’s attractive, so ultimately it doesn’t matter.

There was eventually a fight during which some dude (who actually happened to be one of the ones who insisted on wearing sunglasses) was knocked out cold. Curly actually had to jack up one of the people involved and throw him out. And on that note, I rolled out. I had to work in the morning anyway. And that was that.

Curly actually called me after I got home and wanted to come over. I was tempted, but since I had to get up for work in 2 hours it wasn’t happening. There probably was no point in me even going to sleep, but I managed to squeeze in an hour and a half anyway. He’s been being kind of nice lately. Like 2 weeks ago, he hit me up one morning to tell me he was in my area. I think I was in the gym or something though so I didn’t see his text right away and it was too late by the time I answered. He said he’d wanted to take me to lunch. Random, but sweet.

I got into it with a coworker this past weekend. I was the HBIC (head bitch in charge) on Saturday, and he clearly has a problem with me being placed in a supervisory role over him. The Sunday before this past one when I was also in charge, and again on Saturday, he said or did things that exhibit a defiance towards my temporary authority and were borderline insubordinate. We had words on Saturday during which I told him he needs to respect me as a supervisor, whether he likes it or not. He said he didn’t have to. Okay.

So later Saturday night (actually, while I was at the party), I saw that he’d posted a Facebook status that was obviously about me, talking about how respect is earned and not given, calling me a dumb ass, and some more stuff. I played into it and commented on it, telling him about himself. I advised him that for one, if he has anything to say to me, he needs to tell me to my face. And secondly, that as one of the laziest, most ignorant people I work with, he certainly has no right to talk about who should be in charge and who shouldn’t. I even sent him a text to clarify that he should say whatever he felt he needed to say TO me. Nothing. Okay.

The next morning, he didn’t say shit to me. I let our acting supervisor know what was going on and he said he’d speak to both of us later. Later in the morning I notice that some chick I don’t know was responding to the status he put up, and he started responding to it with more gripes that were clearly about me. Really? Could you be more juvenile and cowardly? We’re both at fucking work together and thus you have AMPLE opportunity to address me with any of your concerns, yet instead of talking to me directly, you again run to Facebook. I was determined NOT to go back and forth with him over Facebook, yet seeing him continue to run off at the mouth about me would’ve presented too great of a temptation, so I simply deleted my original comment so I wouldn’t keep getting the notifications for the status.

Near the tail end of the day, our acting supervisor called us in together for a pow wow, but nothing was resolved. Jackass maintained that I do not get to “demand” respect. I reasserted that I most certainly will if I’m in a supervisory role, because regardless of who is in charge, you need to respect the POSITION. You don’t have to like me or feel like I’m a good supervisor, but the fact is, obviously certain powers that be don’t agree with you or obviously I wouldn’t be placed in charge. And I also informed him, being as he’s a former Marine and wants to spout off about the military and this and that, that if he’s so gung-ho former military, then he should already know the fucking deal – you fucking follow orders and DON’T mouth off and act like an insubordinate fuck to someone in charge, regardless of your problems with the situation. Period. End of story.

At the end of the day it’s quite clear that he’s just resentful of the fact that I was placed in charge in lieu of him. He said he doesn’t see why me and another girl have been placed in charge from time to time when there are people senior to us (like he and several other people) to choose from. Again, SORRY. For one, as I told him, he doesn’t have that much more time on than me. He’s only senior to me by 2 years. For two, not only is he notoriously lazy, but he’s also very disgruntled and has a piss-poor attitude toward the job. Hmmmm, maybe that’s why you haven’t been placed in charge, retard. Grrrrrrrr….

On a brighter note, my gym kick is working well. Every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday, I’m there. The only days I’ve skipped so far are Thanksgiving (but I made it up on Friday), and then on Sunday when I was helping Pretty Ricky. I’m already seeing results. Yay.