Appetite for destruction

Firstly – world please take note: I am hanging up the devils horns for a couple of days! This week I am behaving.

On Sunday I woke up with a head full of thoughts and words (as well as a slight feeling of annoyance that I don’t own a lilo.)This last week was truly entertaining to say the very least but also somewhat on the destructive side. Thursday was particularly bad, I played host and tour guide for a group of people who were pretty much up for anything. At the time it suited me just fine but arriving at work after a couple of hours sleep was just awful! High levels of craziness all around. Friday was awesome with Rox reminding me, that in my heart of hearts I am a rock chic! I love loud music, I love the visuals of long haired men headbanging against strobe lights and then the lead singer of Lark was memorising. With her dramatic gothy stage presence and a voice that shook me to the core. At some point though, I just stopped and felt a sudden explosion of anger in the pit of my stomach. The man / the ex knew me better that anyone else in this world and not once did he take me to watch live music. Sometimes I am just so bloody mad at just how selfish he was during all those years. How it didn’t occur to him that his twenty six year old girlfriend wanted more than night after night of sitting at home? Waiting for him to come home so we could kill a couple of bottles of wine together. Years stolen from me. Fuck. Anyway the anger dissipated suitably quickly, or it probably just drowned after the third Jaegerbomb (eeevvvil nasty stuff indeed!)
Anyway, Saturday was fun on a whole different level. Something I probably need to acknowledge, whether I like it or not is that I am now a game player in this world of singledom. There are some things I have learned over this weekend of late nights and dancing:
*When men start waving their arms in the air, firing invisible guns, they are most likely not South African.
*Befriending the biggest and strongest guy on the dance floor is a sure winner.
*Another winner is finding a dance partner who introduces himself with the additional pronoun of crazy and then proceeds to take off his shirt and show off his tattoo. He was actually one of two guys who felt it necessary to show me their chests – how bizarre, when did this type of behaviour catch on?
*Never, ever give out your phone number. Ever. This was very silly of me and I should have known better. In my defence he was an interesting foreign rugby player in the beginning of the evening, but quickly turned into the dude who’s face I was trying to keep away from mine at all costs. Bloody persistent bastard and despite quite literally pushing him away from me on more than one occasion, he now calls…of course since I am now sober, I will obviously now have the hots for him! Clever man, brilliant strategy!
*Eye contact sports- now this is fun. There was a lovely dark brooding character. Smouldering good looks, outside the crowd of crazies. I could just feel the intensity when his eyes met mine. Sadly when he did take the opportunity to speak to me, the brilliant opener of “You are hot.” was pretty much an anticlimax to what I had thought had real potential…shame men!

I remember the dread I had about being single again. I think the biggest difference now is that I don’t seem to take it all terribly seriously. Lord knows I am not expecting to meet Mr Right at these places, but it is funny and amusing and a side of human nature I have had limited exposure to in my life. The other element is of course the different roles we play at night. In those old goth days of mine, I loved the idea that I was dressing up almost like a cartoon character / a manga character. My mask of blackened eyes, tightened corset’s and billowing black skirts. Now I am using a different sort of character. She of short skirts, high heels and a tremendous appreciation for life’s little surprises! These are perhaps not masks as I had originally thought, but rather different facets of our personality. The human being is nothing if not adaptable to changing environments. We really should give ourselves more credit!

I know this isn’t going to go on for too much longer, I am sure the restlessness will die down sooner or later, lest I become my own vampire and suck the life right out from me!

Dance like no one is watching… when I started this blog I really had no idea I was going to be returning to the dance floor so frequently. Let’s just hope this time it won’t end tragically!


8 thoughts on “Appetite for destruction

  1. that dude stole my pickup line. but quite clearly never used it as a rhetorical question.

    like a man saying to the baby in the mother’s arms – ‘who’s the lovely lady?’

    shame men!

  2. 302, lol, I suppose that could work, but like everything I think context and attitude play the most important part!

    Thank you Brazen, bloody hell I hope so! 😉

  3. Lovely post, and I’m still laughing my head about about the ardent pursuer… and feeling oh so glad I didn’t give blondie my digits!

    If that is, I am correct in thinking you are referring to a certain nationality… hehe. 🙂

  4. Loved this post DT! You should publish this as a how-to of dating. Lol at the boys shooting guns!

    Europeans perhaps?

  5. Haha – Thanks Rox! I am strictly keeping my digits to myself from now on – regardless of nationality – then again maybe Italian… NO!

    Po – I think I am the last person in the world ready to offer tips, but thank you very much!
    I think they were Europeans – it is really very funny – I had no idea that was a dance move!!

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