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March 13, 2007
Sexy Kiss?
I've made it sound as if I've been living my life as a total monk lately. However, to translate a popular French Canadian phrase to describe the physical needs that most people have regardless of sometimes wanting more or less in the romance department, I'm not made of wood. Nevertheless, as an adult, I think we all at times try to approach sexuality sometimes as if we're so very continental. In fact, we all have feelings that can be hurt no matter how detached we might like to be.
I may have mentioned it already once, but I live in a bilingual city. Several times in my past, when I have dated someone who only spoke my city's actual official language of French, my accent started out as charming, but in the end, was called out as one of my major faults. I have tried my best, but I find I simply do not hear how strong my English pronunciation comes across when I speak French.
At any rate, after I had been out for a few drinks at happy hour after work last Friday, I came home in the mood for something other than sitting home alone. I signed onto an adult dating site I frequent on occasion and agreed to meet "a friend" that I originally met Christmas Eve in a single bar. It's someone whom I thought was nice, but was more of a casual hookup than a serious romantic prospect.
After arriving late our encounter went as I expected it would, albeit, it seemed rushed and a tad more aggressive than on previous occasions when we enjoyed one another's company. After making out a bit, I suddenly was put on the hot seat, as I was suddenly told my breath smelled like gin, although I hadn't had any hard liquor earlier that night. I think that's the first time for me getting turned down for having bad breath.
I reacted slightly startled and is often the case, regardless of whether responding in English or French, probably mumbled something incomprehensible. Suddenly, I was told maybe it wasn't just the gin, but the fact that I was English speaking, despite having spent several previous hours on other occasions conversing reasonably well in French.
The next day, waking up alone at home, I thought that despite a slightly bruised ego I had probably dodged a bullet. I wasn't looking for anything particularly meaningful the night before, so to be rejected in such an aggressive manner probably avoided misunderstanding or greater confrontation with someone slightly unstable. Crazy doesn’t always translate, even when speaking the same language, but accepting rejection with grace and majority speaks volumes larger than nasty words.
Posted by Will at March 13, 2007 1:18 PM
