Orchestra of Wolves

Seeing as the cockroach-situation still lies unresolved, and I've got nothing better to do, here's a couple of stories that occurred after the great heartbreak.

Because getting out and trying to heal with your libido is a great idea until you get caught up on the harsh concrete wall of reality.

There was a girl whom I had great chemistry with, and we did make out a couple of times. We partied together a lot, because once I figured that this isn't going anywhere, she still had a dozen girlfriends around, and despite her weirdness, she made a good wingman.

She had an odd habit though: even though it was her shooting down my efforts, she continued to text me at late nights with random things, about where she's partying, sometimes about how she misses me, etc. That's women for you.

So one night, at around three AM, I'm rolling around pondering that something is off... and then my phone beeped. New text message!

'hey, can I sleep over at ur place?'

FUCK. YES.

'sure'

Fast forward twenty minutes, followed by some explaining on the phone as to where she needs to get off the bus, finding her in the wrong bus stop, taking her back home, she's lying next to me with not much clothing.

'You know, I've decided that things are only going to happen if we get together.'

Wagering the pros and cons and the general context (hot, naked chick, in your bed, almost naked), thus began my relationship. And it was an awesome start.

Four days later she said she can't make up her mind and dumped me.

Sounds better than a one night stand, doesn't it?



There was another girl over the winter who got up on my stupidest words uttered ever list with one gem:

'Not just anybody can have me you know!'

Fair enough. Or it would have been anyway, had she not said it in the context of me being ELBOW DEEP in there already.

She was fairly uninteresting though, with one more thing worth to add: that she talked a lot. And never shut up. And believe me, I went out of my way to find situations in which she would, but I swear, she has multiple sets of vocal chords and is capable of blabbering nonsense in any of her orifices. Blargh.




The third entry of today is from a younger girl, still smoking hot and quite smart (or rather, dumb in an irregular way) with one catch: she had a boyfriend.

Then again, the second time we met up, that only seemed to bother me, and not her. I took that as a green signal, so we arranged a third date, this time at my place, when suddenly, stupidity strikes:

'I'm not going to cheat on my boyfriend!'

Clear. Keen. Respectable.

Not when you're f#$!cking lying on me half naked after an hour-long dryhumping session!

Kind of laid down contact with her after that, looking for other options, thinking that was the end of it, and it seemed like that... until her boyfriend read the texts in her phone.

But that's a story for tomorrow.

(Orchestra of Wolves is a song by British hardcore band Gallows. Watch a video with Clockwork Orange references here. You'll need the lyrics too. My name is Casanova...)