A Bad Man in a Bad Place

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Beautyphobia

Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous women, with men at their fingertips, feared the world too. Even the most confident among them had doubts. Some doubts. Not as many as I had, but the strength that they exuded was merely confidence that they had something that other people wanted. For many of them, it was because they’d been told so - whispered “you’re so beautiful” at bars, had men just draw breath in that appreciative “wow” when they entered the room.

On the way home from dinner

So when BestFriend’s girlfriend emailed me that the Beauty was coming, I had three simultaneous reactions. The first was elation. Three days in a cabin with the Beauty! At least I could bask in her glow, if nothing else. The next was fear, because how in the hell am I to enjoy New Years when all I want is to kiss the girl, and I can’t bring myself to? Finally, it was worry, because FFF had been making some noises about “girlfriend” lately, and I was still unclear on the concept.

Approach Anxiety kicks my ass

At the end of which she says “I really like you, you’re fun.” And then she gets shy. “But here’s the thing. I’m sorta seeing the bartender. I don’t want it to get weird.” As the bartender is a guy I like and hang out with outside of work, the needle, obviously, comes off the record.

Meeting the Cuban

Five minutes after Eight, the door opens, and a scene from a movie walks in. A stunning and elegant woman, hair trailing behind her in the breeze, looks around the room. She spots me. Under my breath, I protest “non ce posso.” She starts walking towards me, and I freeze. I tense up. I start to relax when she tries to kiss my cheek. In standing to give her that kiss, my chair falls from the weight of my bag and my coat.

Friday Night

“One important question - marks or no marks?”

“Light marks are fine.”
Pulled out some rope. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, ankles to wrists.