Friday, November 04, 2005

GAH! Damn My Morals . .

So, Steph called me brave. If only she knew.

Went out last night with the fabulous Alana to an art gallery charity auction. Spent an hour before hand buffing and polishing myself to a pristine shine, adorning myself in beautiful baubles and fantabulous shoes and then traveling to Alana's salon so that she might make my hair a luxurious cloud of dark, swarthy curls. I love this girl, people. She can do magic!

We travel first to the lovely El Porton which serves the finest Margaritas this side of the Mississippi. Mainly because there's enough Tequila in it to make you blind, but you can't taste it at all! We get appropriately happy for the occassion, because I'm always far more charitable with my money (mainly because I'm so tipsy I don't care how much I give away) when I'm a bit toasty. We travel to the art gallery and commence shopping.

During said shopping, Alana and I are discussing the Matt situation. Alana, being recently divorced and somewhat of a . . . umm . . .hoe is such a bad word, and in truth she isn't, but she is a little more free with her favors than I could EVER be, advises me to bed Matt and then quickly bed another so as to cauterize my heart against wounding from Matt. As IF that could EVER happen, umm . . . right . . NO. I don't even know that I can sleep with Matt let alone some random male (she advises Will since he's calling me four times a day and obviously in "lurv" as Alana puts it).

We then travel to the mall 20 minutes before closing to oggle beautificus shoes which we don't need and probably shouldn't (not can't) afford. Speaking of shoes, Steph, I am gearing up . . I wore the most gorgeous shoes last night and thought of you and Chairborne, you lucky ducks. Unfortunately, the beauty of the shoes was marred by the horrendous scars on my feet from the car wreck I survived in February (though Alana swears you don't notice the scars because the shoes are so great). I figure a good pair of fishnet stockings would hide all scars . . are fishnets still in or are they trashy again??

And then off to P.F. Chang's where the cutest bartender ever pays me much attention and makes me drinks that I have never even heard of. In an alcoholic haze, I imagine that I totally can avoid all my morals and take Matt to bed with no damage to my heart. I text mail him, because I'm too chicken to call, that we are in Little Rock, slightly tipsy and that I've evaluated his offer.

What seems like hours later, I get a text mail: "Where are you, you shouldn't be driving, in fact, you should spend the night at my house."

Suddenly, I'm sober as the day is long . . my mind does a WTF jump and I switch off the phone with a quickness. I also, slightly muddled mind, make Alana leave P.F. Changs as fast as is humanly possible because I can't remember if I told him WHERE in Little Rock I was (but I have to be discreet about it because if I tell Alana he has answered, she will force me to stay and see him).

So, there. . . Steph, I am so not brave. Bevis, yes, I suppose it seems he does desperately want me . . but I don't think my heart or mind can deal with a man who thinks I'm too fluffy to date (because I'm slightly over his 125 weight limit) but just fluffy enough to bed. Woe is me.

6 comments:

Chairborne Stranger said...

Don't get your heart broken-that sucks-been there and done that!

Ps ummm, I do like fishnets.

Chairborne Stranger said...

BTW, I don't really talk about those things too much with any of the guys here. They would probably think that I was certifiably crazy. You know how it is, guys are tough and all. Besides, that is what the blog is for!

meghansdiscontent said...

Chairborne - don't worry . . . my heart is safe. I can't be that self destructive, even if it is tempting beyond all reason. And if you need to talk (I realize the futility of this statement), you know how and where to get me.

Steph said...

sweety, being a booty call is all well and good when both parties agree that it is what it is. Once other feelings become involved you're opening yourself up for a whole world of hurt. Don't do it.

Adam said...

Young Meghan,

The non-brave thing would have been to meet Matt and then freak out after the event. Avoiding potentially hurtful situations is not un-brave, it's totally smart, a quality too many of my friends are without. So many of my chickmates get into situations where they know their heart will be broke but go in anyway, it's refreshing as all get-out to know a young lady using her smarts.

It does sound like the dude likes you (although, I am only hearing one side of the story), but I think you need to work out exactly what you want and don't want. And. Then. Tell. Him.

If he comes to the party, awesome. If not then you've both made a mature informed decision without the customary heart-breakage and potentially used feeling.

No compromises lady. (Although, you are allowed to change your mind on what it is that you want).

Also, fishnets are always in.
Fishnets with short, short skirts is a bit more hoeish than the ever stylish fishnets and a long shirt, dress, pants, etc.

Dirk the Feeble said...

He has a weight limit? That's like the saddest thing I've ever heard.