The real deal

It's good to have 0.5 back on the blog. How was your leave. What goodies did you bring back.

I've had a bunch of interesting stuff going on of late, and have learnt a lot [and still continue to] about life. I have also learnt some stuff about myself. I'm not a good guy, neither am I a wise guy [Of King Solomon's type]. I feel inadequate to teach or advice anyone, because I know what a mess I am. I'll leave that at that for now.

The reality of my 'exploits' with women of late are down to 2 things. Money and Madness. I've had moments of temporary insanity which have caused me to do and say all kinds of crazy things to women who are complete strangers to me. I consider myself somewhat of an introvert and have an idea where such dutch courage is coming from. That's for later.

Money. What makes the world go round. That's definitely true in this town. I wouldn't encourage anyone to take this route to obtain such pleasures as having a soft bossom next to hold against your chest, unless you are rich. I am not. Truth be told, the real challenging women [typically older, with their own job and stuff] I've tried my kung fu stunts on have not been moved by my antics. Perhaps, they may have been surprised [and/or a bit drunk], hence the business cards.

I met the bima chic at carni, on my first time at Jack Swing. It was almost morning, and the dance floor was basically empty. There I was scanning the place, going round and round in measured fashion as I sought out someone to dance with. Then I see a chic standing there, some distance away from the dance floor. I focus my gaze on her. She feels my eyes on her. I smile. She reciprocates. That's my cue. I walk up to her and tell her how she has a lovely smile and stuff [I never really know what I say during these episodes. It's just insane]

After telling each other how lovely it is to smile, we dance. After sometime, her 2 friends pass by and ask her how she could be doing such things in public! I figure she must be someone high up in society but wonder about her friends. Why oh why, do chics have to have a friend to spoil everything.

Anyway, at some point we stopped dancing, but I wasn't about to go home. Noooo. I hang around on the floor hoping she would come back. It was so bad I was dancing to blues all by myself, with probably 2 other couples the only other people to indulge the DJ.

Everyone has a breaking point, and my threshold isn't that high. I threw in the towel and decided to leave, but first I had to take a piss. As I make my way there, we meet again, smile kidogo, nini na nini. She takes a look at me ... then opens her purse and removes some thing. [Forgive my ineptitude with words]. I figure she's grabbing a smoke as it's one of those things [there I go again] you see guys in movies getting cigarettes out of. A cigarette holder?

That's not what it was anyway. It was a business card holder [Much better than saying 'it was another thing']. She pulls out a card and says I can call her. I start mumbling how I'll call her day and night [In other words, temporary insanity checks in]. I hang around a bit [she's with her friends who are really looking at me badly], then tell her I'm leaving. Apparently, they also are. So we walk out. She mumbles something like 'do you know how old I am?', but that's not a concern. I don't do relationships anyway. I'm thinking of taking a cab for the ride home, but she has a car [A red bima]. I go to open the back door but she insists that I take the front seat. She drops me off at the gate to our esto ... and that's the last time I saw her.

Tried to call her the next day, but I think she wasn't too keen on meeting. [Oh. I ran out of stuff to say so asked if we could have lunch or something, and I think she got freaked out]. Tried the sms thing, and had better results. Tried calling later but she wouldn't pick up. I was torn. I still am. I'll give her a call today. [I don't know why I torture myself thus]

So you see, 0.5, I can have my way with most any young college going/jobless chic in town, and not down to my suave nature, but that's where the good stuff ends. The real heroic stuff [like spening the night at Jane's place [another older woman who has her job, car, house, etc] hasn't happened. I've tried calling the gorgeous chic but she's always out or in a meeting. I passed by her office today morning and it was the same thing. Meeting with the boss. Story of my life.

So you see. I'm an ordinary guy. You get that car you talked about some time back and see how your fortunes will change.