OK. I don't get it, I just don't.
I had a post written about this nonsense, but it was just TOO LONG, so I am going to post some highlights of ridiculousness that is now a determined part of my life, known as QUIET MAN.
I went to a party and who walks in? Fred, Quiet Man and two other friends.
Fred ends up calling me over and introduces me to his buddy, Berman. I was not interested in Berman the fabric importer, who apparently is always in Kuwait and "Muse, you would never know you were in Kuwait if you went to the mall there because you would think you are in the U.S.A. !" Thanks Berman for the information.
Quiet Man was staring at me through the bodies in the crowd. When I was talking to Berman, Quiet Man decides to squish by, stares at me and says hello to me. I replied hello, snottily, while fighting back the damned ass attraction that exists between he and I by steadfastly keeping the conversation with Berman flowing.
After I met the third boy in the group, Ricky, who was also trying to entertain me while we were all holding up the bar, Quiet Man decides to do something he never really did before. He stayed and actually socially interacted with me and his two buddies, Berman and Ricky. He did this, I believe, because those two showed an interest in me. Quiet Man was craking jokes, drinking and could NOT stop touching me, grabbing me, kissing my hands and even at one point got down on his knees to my feet-I can't recall right now why.
Of course, I did not outwardly react, but what I was unable to do was stop the welling of lust when he touched me. I am going to go to hell. The problem is at times, it pounds itself at an alarming rate that I can't even look at him for fear of what I may look like, looking at him-thinking all those things I think about him.
When he reached around to hold onto my waist, I was of course, still as a frightened doe, not wanting to move, but my mind was racing with thought of lunging into his arms, or that he would swing me towards him, pressing me tightly to him and kissing me. That was what I was thinking while I "ignored" his touch throughout the night.
I was unable to rationalize his determination to be near me and touch me.
This problem heightened itself when Quiet Man, pushed himself towards me, to FIX MY DAMNED HAIR, near my face. He did it as if we were long time and ardent lovers-the way he reached towards the side of my face with his fingers to push some loose strands back to the rest of the mop I call hair, behind my shoulder. He was smiling at me while he was doing it as if it were only he and I. When he arranged the strands of hair, he moved back, looking at me, as if to see the results of his handiwork.
In between all the touching, grabbing and kissing, he tells Berman a story about his wife being so good to marry him and that he loves his wife. Berman was apparently dumbfounded and really had nothing to say in return. Berman and Ricky were pretty much like deer in the headlights when not laughing at all the pot shots I was dishing out to Quiet Man to try and detract from his behavior with me.
Once when he grabbed my hand, and I was pulling it away, Ricky chimed in and scolded him that did he not notice that Muse was pulling away from him? Does he not know, using my hand as a demonstration, that to hold my hand, it includes my willingness to keep my hand in his? Quiet Man let him finish and then grabbed my hand back with both of his and kissed the back of my hand.
Quiet Man also chided Ricky at one point in the conversation that he needs to stop talking about cigars with me since that is an inappropriate topic. He should talk to me about better things such as world events or romance. I had to tell Quiet Man that I was the one who expanded on the cigar conversation since I was telling a story about cigar smoking with my ex BF. Quiet Man then made a comment about why was I thinking about ex BF's? I should have said for the same reason, you ARE MARRIED!
Quiet Man also informed Ricky and Berman about all of my virtues-how smart I am ( but threw in he would not say brilliant-WTF?), beautiful, honest, wonderful, how he loved my mother, my brother and had to stop himself from loving the rest of my family because he does not know who they are.
Quiet Man also had to make a point with Berman about how, even though Berman is Fred's best friend, and as proof Berman had on some string on his wrist from Fred's wife, that Quiet Man was his blood, his brother, even though they are not related, and then Quiet Man had to pull out of his wallet a red string he kept in a paper that Fred gave him.
Quiet Man also had to inform Berman about Tigo from the night where I was ''attacked'' by the woman who was propositioning Fred for sex but he turned her down, that Tigo (I guess Berman knew him as well), with his WIFE PRESENT, took one look at Muse and was hitting on her and his eyes were bulging out of his head when he looked at her. AS IF QUIET MAN WAS NOT WORSE THAN TIGO.
Quiet Man was asking Ricky to cook a meal that we could all attend, along with my mother and brother. I was like WTF is he thinking? I made a remark about, yeah invite my family, because Quiet Man, that is your little insurance policy from your true intentions, isn't it? Quite Man's logic was that Ricky was a fantastic cook.
We talked about diamonds for some reason. Quiet Man is looking down at me and keeps asking, what is a man's jewelry? A beautiful woman, I answered dryly to shut him up, and he starts to laugh at my "cleverness". I guess he does poorly with subtlety.
I mean we were all laughing and laughing and actually having fun, mainly because I was just letting him basically do what he wanted and ignored it, just so it would not get serious and then heated.
I also had to deal with Fred and his new match making role, which I think he had all along, starting with Quiet Man.
As I was talking to Berman, Fred asks me what I thought of the man he introduced me to at his party. OMG, as if that was not embarassing enough, I had to answer him. I told him the guy was "OK"-he did not really get it, so I told him, listen, I am not really looking and have been batting a thousand by constantly meeting married men, like HIM I said, pointing out the window to Quiet Man who was on one of his numerous chain smoking breaks. So Fred turns around and points to Berman and said, he's not married. Great. There was Berman smiling from ear to ear.
Poor Berman, had asked for my number, so I gave him my business card. I did not want to be mean, but I sure as hell did not want to lead him on; Ricky piped up and wanted a card as well. I did not have anymore. Quiet Man tells Ricky, he will give him one, and I commented, yes, because you have so many of my cards in your little stack in your office. So Ricky is told by Quiet Man, that since I, Muse, gave him permission to give him my card, he would, tomorrow.
I left that night without saying goodbye to Quiet Man, leaving when he went to see Fred for a second, but I did say goodbye to Berman and Ricky.
There is a cocktail party next week, thrown by a mutual friend, that they told me they were going to attend. I told them I was not sure if I was going because it was only for an hour and a half. Quiet Man tells me, he will be able to figure out something to so after that.
I spoke to Fred tonight to find out the exact day for the cocktail party since I threw out the invitation by mistake. He told me he had to go to another party after the cocktail event. So that, well at this point, solidifies I should not even leave my house, for fear of going to hell for attending a cocktail party for 1.5 hours, only for the object of why I was going, had to go somewhere else afterwards. If Fred had party number two to attend, all three, Quiet Man, Ricky and Berman would have to go as well. And, that being that, its a good thing, to avoid hell.
I have NEVER ever found myself in this position. Being so attracted to a man who I thought was single for months and months and months, and not being able to be un-attracted after I find out he is married. I don't think I would ever have an affair with him, because I don't believe in that, but I am finding out, that when it's in your face, and not having met anyone in my life that I have had such a magnetic and strong sexual attraction, that is why I hope I won't be going to hell, for doing something I have no business doing.
I cannot not avoid him very well, since my family does not know why I need to avoid him and they never will from me. So, I have to act nonchalant and deal with him when our paths cross.
But at that last party, I was shocked at my reaction to his interaction with me. The feeling of unadulterated lust that I had felt the day I went to see him at his office, was intensified and underscored.
I believe Ricky and Berman saw the attraction existed between us, but maybe not since Berman asked for my phone number, so I hope that I was unscathed, but I don't think Quiet Man will be able to deny his actions to them. Well, he could, because he is a man, but I don't think he is really like that-a womanizer. I think he is immensely attracted to me and probably has a hard time dealing with it and the demons that visit him, being married and all.
Fred is at heart a sweetheart. I should appreciate his concern for wanting to play match maker with me. But then again once Quiet Man said Fred likes me, but I don't really think so. And Fred speaks highly of Quiet Man and it's true that he is a good, good person.
Oh, these adult issues I have thus far completely avoided in my life have now arrived. It sucks.
Friday, October 19, 2007
OK. I don't get it, I just don't.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
As I was blog surfing on Blogger, or attempting to, despite porn sites galore [and I thought the Bestest Blog Ever was bad] I stumbled upon Fat Cat with her side kick Pigassus.
It is a hilarious read about weight loss, which most of us can relate to whether at present or as a distant memory.
They have such similar writing styles that the blog just flows seamlessly from one poster to the other.
I had to read it backwards, from current post to the last, so I was getting myself mixed up a bit, but it was a great read. I wish Blogger would have an option to read blogs in the order the posts where written, without missing any entry.
Its nice to read a blog that is well written, imaginative and so descriptive, without constantly having to be reminded that the poster wishes they would be miraculously discovered by the book literati roaming the internet or whining about why, why, why they have not been yet discovered and launched into instant literary fame and selling like 10 million books.
Fat Cat and Pigassus deal with more pressing matters such as the Monday morning weigh ins and their damned lying scales. Both Analog and Digital.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
When I last saw Quiet Man and Fred at the birthday party, I did not expect to see them again.
There must be some horrid and freakish reason I had to see the married Quiet Man again. It is stressful and it upsets me. I don't get it, and this whole saga is sick.
In order to purge myself from these experiences, I share them, here, on this blog. I hope this is the last of the sharing.
I had two places to go on one night. Back again to the Italianate hall and then to a smaller restaurant. Actually, I had gone to the smaller restaurant first, but it seemed empty, which was odd. There was definitely an event there that night, but I went to the Italianate monstrosity perched against a ledge by the road.
Earlier in the day, I was introduced to a man, who I know was married, and yes he had a ring, and yes he was much older and yes he was not attractive, at least to me. I had the unfortunate luck to have been introduced to him and he latched on. He is some muckety muck in our area and I really could care less.
He was attempting to explain to me who he was because I lied and said I did not know him, did not see him on TV and generally did not know anything about him. That was a mistake. It spurred him on to the most boring and lengthy recitation of his background, job, qualifications and other dulling topics.
He was acting like an idiot because I know he is an idiot.
So go and figure my surprise when I saw him at the Italianate hall that night.
I was wearing a black cocktail dress, with a silk, hot pink scarf I bought in Italy-one of those long ones-that I had around my shoulders. The neckline was cut quite low in the v-neck form. My lip gloss, in fabulous fuschia by Vincent Longo, was not as deep at night as it was during the day. It was to have equally matched the silk in the night light as it did in the day. I had on stiletto silver heels with criss crossed straps over each foot, bejeweled in rhinestones that reflected my matching hot pink toe polish.
I had to fake tan it that night on my decollate, legs, face and arms. It was September after all and the damned bad burn I was the recipient of in Capri, was beginning to fade as summer dwindled.
I was talking to a bunch of women, one of whom I really don't trust, and who I think is fake as her white blond hair she sports above her dark brown natural. When she sees me, she feels the need to begrudgingly compliment me and I dryly acknowledge her un-meaningful words. Deal with it, honey. You need to step off.
She was complaining of having to buy a glass of wine that cost her $7.00. I was sympathetic. I was. I was also enjoying the fact she had to buy her own liquor. Chump.
As I was leaning against the mahogany bar, after the fake blond left to make herself mingle in what she feels is in an important way, I found myself staring right at the man I had cringingly endured earlier that day.
OH MY GOD, what is it with me and married men lately, I thought? He planted himself next to me while all his "important" friends tried to tear him away. I was so disappointed they failed. He was making me regret I had on that dress. I told him I had another place to go that night and he coyly asked for my card. I had them, but I did not want to give one to him. He only knew my first name. He was questioning me incessantly anyway, but I was not having any of it. I made the attempt to search for one in my bag, fingered them and told him, regretfully I did not have any. I just had credit cards and I was not going to give him one of those. Oh, he found that so charming.
So I had eventually made my way towards the door. I was chatting with others and the married mucketey muck came over to me with one of those note pads with the freaking wire on the top holding the school lined sheets together. He flipped it open, and handed me the pad with a pen. He wanted me to write down my information. I scribbled my first and last name and nothing else, closed the pad and returned it to him. I finally was able to exit.
When I got to the second restaurant, it seemed pretty quiet. There was supposed to be many people there, but there was not. I parked and walked inside.
Quiet Man and Fred where holding up the bar and staring at me as I walked through the door. Fred had complained to my mother of all people the week before that in his culture, if you walk into a room, you need to go and say hello to those you know who are already there. I am of the opinion, that a man approaches a woman to say hello. That apparently was the big issue at the birthday party.
So, in order to avoid another birthday party silence, I went up to Fred to embrace him and say hello.
"Oh Muse, so nice to see you. Hello."
Oh geez, it made him so cordial, acknowledging him. I was pretty shocked to see him and Quiet Man because I did not think they were going to be there. This now meant I had to go to Fred's dumb party.
"Muse, you smell so good. Did you buy that from me?"
"No, Fred, I did not."
"It smells wonderful on you. What are you wearing?"
He was holding me by my bare arms, looking at me as if the scent would reveal itself.
I was wearing Pink Sugar, which I had sampled at Sephora. They give fabulous free samples to try out.
"I don't know the name, " I lied, "And, I did not even buy it either. Isn't it fabulous?"
"Muse it really does you well, it compliments you, " said Fred, while finishing his inhalation of the Pink Sugar.
I had turned around, unable to milk the scent scenario with Fred any longer, having to acknowledge Quiet Man.
He was sitting on a bar stool, and I was by his knees. He was also taking a whiff which annoyed me. He puts his arm around my back after putting down his plate of calamari he was sampling. He took my right hand with his other and was holding my fingers in his grasp. He was smiling as he usually does. I was doing all I could to not even be taken in by him.
"Ah, hello, " he said in a deep, slow voice, "Muse. Nice to see you."
Fred was on the other side of me, smiling broadly. He made me think of a father, looking at his son, while watching Quiet Man speak to me.
Quiet Man tried to draw my hand to his lips to kiss my hand. I pulled them back. He still held on. He tried again. I did the same. He did it for a third time and pulled hard enough to kiss my hand and he then leaned into my neck, laughing. I felt him inhale deeply. Probably the Pink Sugar was very intoxicating.
I told Quiet Man I had already met my married man quota for the night, telling him I had a new 'boyfriend' telling him of the influential married man who was trying to get it on with me. For the purposes of Quiet Man, that other married man was just fabulous. Quiet Man was not amused. Ha!
We chatted and laughed for a while until another man approached.
We had just been outside because Quiet Man needed a smoke. I don't even know what we talked about-I was keeping the conversation very, very generic with him. I think he was annoyed, like I cared, because while he lit up, I told him I had to move because I did not want to smell of smoke.
I was introduced to the man who approached me by someone I knew. His name was Tigo-rhymes with ego-an unusual name. He was to me definitely unattractive and older. He was married, thank goodness.
Quiet Man knew him. They greeted each other. After a while, Quiet Man suggested we go outside to talk while he smoked. Tigo was also a smoker.
We get outside and stand in front of the restaurant. Quiet Man was standing next to me and Tigo had seated himself. Tigo was quite a character. He absolutely took over. He was definitely interested. He was not acute to the fact I was not in the least attracted.
Quiet Man surprised me by stepping up and confronting Tigo, who was leering at me while he was talking. Quiet Man demanded that he stop talking to me about things I don't want to hear about; we don't want to know about it, said Quiet Man.
I was taken aback. Who the hell was he to do that?
Tigo took one look at Quiet Man, and then looked at me and continued on with his drivel about his successful business and in fact, he was going to be financing Fred for a few million dollars.
Quiet Man abruptly walked back inside. I decided to show an unusual interest in Tigo. I laughed on cue, raised my eyes at appropriate levels of his stories about his finances and the like. I looked through the window behind him every so often and I saw Quiet Man half sitting on the bar stool, looking at me looking at Tigo, with a sour look on his face, sipping his drink.
I finally got tired of Tigo and excused myself blaming the stilettos for having to return inside.
What happened next could be the subject of another post, but I will briefly summarize. Fred was flanked by some women, one of whom I knew. We did not like each other. She came up to me to try and insult me-didn't work- and Quiet Man told Fred and I she was jealous, having seem me with Quiet Man and Fred or something like that.
I told Fred I could not be dealing with his ugly assed women he was picking up on lately and with all his money, he should step it up and get some good looking women. Quiet Man burst out into laughter. Fred ended up laughing as well.
We then said our goodbyes, laughing about that tramp that had tried to attack me because Fred did not accept her sexual offer she was making to him.
Fred had asked me to confirm if I was going to his house party. I told him only if his wife was going to be there, and I told Quiet Man, he should be bringing his. What the hell.
They got into the car they came in; I thought it odd that Quiet Man had brought a two seater BMW, because it looked like he had to crunch himself in that James Bond like car. Fred looked like his head just made it to the dashboard. They are a comical pair.
I next saw Quiet Man in front of Starbucks after that helping some portly woman with her car. I was chatting with an ex-BF, honked the horn at him and he smiled broadly at me.
Now, about Fred's party.
I arrived with my mother to Fred's house. It was pretty large. Upon our arrival, as he did with everyone else who later came, he gave us a house tour. He had these crappy computer made signs taped to his walls, "No Food or Drink in the House".
I asked him what in the hell was that all about? He said, "Look at my silk oriental rugs. They cost me $60,000.00 each, Muse!"
"Muse," he said as I was looking at the rug wondering if I would ever pay $60,000.00 for not one, but two rugs, "These rugs, can never be cleaned if they get dirty. They are silk!"
He had two sets of the rug, one in each room flanking the front entrance. The sitting room to the right and the room to the left, complete with a $60,000.00 rug, was in his dining room. Go figure.
He took us to the family room. I was searching for something to compliment him on, since I was not digging his taste, which I told him was simply exquisite.
I saw hanging on a beige wall a set of beige framed tapestries depicting a colonial scene.
"Oh, Fred, how wonderful are those tapestries!" I really did like them.
He smiled broadly.
"Muse, guess who gave those to me?"
I did not have a clue, rattling off some names. No was his answer to each.
"Guess, Muse, guess," he said strangely.
"I don't know, " I said with some exacerbation since I ran out of guesses, "Who?"
"Quiet Man!" beamed Fred.
Just my luck.
I went to go and sit on the back patio where the tent was set up. I had been one of his first guests to arrive.
My mother, who can't sit still, went and sat with some gentlemen at a nearby table.
Fred's guests where really slow to roll in and I sat at my round party table by myself.
Fred coming in and out of his house, stopped by to see if I was OK. I was. I was just sitting there, holding my face in my hands, waiting for those I knew to arrive.
I noticed this odd group of people come in. They chose the table across from mine in my direct view. I had finished eating a few shrimp I had in front of me. Fred's help did not arrive to take away my plate, so I kept it in front of me, fiddling with the pink carcasses.
Those people where annoying. They were of an older age group. They stood for the longest time before sitting. They looked as if they did not know anyone. I was wondering how they knew Fred, who did not come over to them.
Those annoying people finally sat down as if they all came to an agreement about the table.
I was sitting listening to the live band and the DJ Fred provided take turns making so much noise. First one, then the other. What the hell where they doing? They started and stopped the music and then they turned the lights on and off and then used the strobe light and flashed our eyes out. What a bunch of yo-yos.
I was still sitting there, watching some guests as they slowly appeared. I was getting very bored and was wondering about leaving.
The DJ was annoying. He would not quit it with the lights. As I turned to see what the DJ was now up to with the music, I saw Quiet Man dart out of the house onto Fred's patio, towards the DJ.
Oh no, I thought. I turned around to mind my own business and, in case he was coming by, I had my back to him.
My shoulder was tapped. I turned and it was Quiet Man with this manly woman who he introduced me to as Mrs. Quiet Man.
I was a gasp at what this woman looked like, as I smiled broadly and shook her hand. It was surreal. It was like I was in a fog. I recall Quiet Man telling that sow he was married to, that this is Muse, his friend.
He asked me if I was there alone. I said no. He asked me if my mother came, I said yes and pointed her out. He asked me if my brother was coming, I lied and said, yes, later on. I was becoming enraged with him at this point.
Quiet Man was with the weirdos who chose the table across from me and the seat they saved for him and his manly wife was directly in my view. I was disgusted.
They were not even seated for thirty seconds at their table when I then noticed the women all looked alike. Those Eastern Block types. Like oxen.
Quiet Man was up and dragging his manly wife to introduce her to my mother. He was hugging and kissing my mother and making a scene, that I heard him from so far away. He was telling his wife how old my mother was and how she did not look anywhere near her age at all, which was true. If that manly woman did not think it was unusual for her husband to be doing that, she is stupid.
So the party crowd finally showed up. I did not see Quiet Man so animated and social before this night. He did not spend much time with the manly wife he had and he made a point of speaking to everyone I knew or was near me, and he ignored me. Which was fine.
I was angry because I did not appreciate being introduced to Mrs. Quiet Man, it was unnecessary, and to lie about he and I being friends. He also did not have to make an unusual point of talking to everyone and anyone around me.
Fred had come up to me a few times to see how I was. I was fine, I told him. Fine.
A couple of times Mrs. Quiet Man would linger around me, but nothing unusual, I thought. I wonder what she thought when her husband introduced me. It was so awkward, she had to have noticed the odd introduction. Maybe I was successfully nonchalant. I don't know.
As the night lingered on, Quiet Man, who spent most of the night without his wife, began to watch me a bit as I went to the bar, as I was laughing and talking to new people I had met, just in general having a good time.
I was out on the driveway with a wife of one of the muckety mucks we know. She is a nice lady. We had a fun time laughing and chatting.
Fred had some of his antique cars in his garages on display. I and Diana, the wife to whom I was speaking, decided to go and see the cars. Quiet Man was on the driveway with a man who I think was his brother, who was married to an identical Mrs. Quiet Man but with a different hair color. Quiet Man had mumbled something to me when he was introducing his manly wife about introducing me to his brother. I ALMOST lost it when he said that.
He did not introduce me to his brother, who was really repulsive, I thought.
So Diana and I go into the garage and just peered into the first car. I then felt a hand on my back. It was Quiet Man.
What the hell did he want?
"Excuse me, " he said without acknowledging he knew me, "I have to get some cigars out."
"What?" I demanded, letting him know I was very annoyed.
"Excuse me, I need to get the cigars."
The men were smoking cigars. I was like, I just get to this damned car, you probably saw me coming here, and now you want to get cigars out of this damned car while I am here?
I said, "Fine. We will just go and look at another car."
Diana and I moved over to the next car.
Quiet Man's cigars where in a box on a wall, not even in the car. I was getting madder.
So Diana and I go out onto the driveway again which was lit and Fred's caterers where set up by us and doing some kind of cooking demonstrations.
A few other women came to join Diana and I and we were all chatting and laughing in a group.
Fred then comes barreling through our group, pushing aside the women to get to me.
"Muse," he said, "I want to introduce you to So and So."
I can't remember the man's name.
"Oh, hello So and So," I said.
It then dawned on me the man requested an introduction to me. He had blondish red hair. I am not attracted to men with such hair, but he was attracted to me that was for sure.
I had to endure the most blah small talk that eventually turned into his pridefully exclaiming to me that he was a Mr. Mom. Oh, So and So, that makes you so alluring to a single woman, you charmer you!
So and So did not know how to keep his hands to himself. I was dressed very demurely. I had on a crew long sleeved sparkly top with a below the knee sparkly skirt. My hair was pulled back and I was wearing a brownish high shine lip gloss. Definitely nothing standing out that night.
So, as Mr. So and So was grabbing my arms and rubbing them up and down, offering to fetch me drinks I could get myself at the bar, it dawned on me as he was speaking I kind of knew who he was. He was Quiet Man's friend. I remember Quiet Man telling me about him. This revelation made speaking to him even more uninteresting.
The next thing I know, Quiet Man rushes up to the both of us. He was looking me right in the eye and had grabbed my upper arm.
He was questioning Mr. So and So how he knew me or something like that. I was so angry with him at this point, I was not even listening to what he said. Mr. So and So was beaming with pride about me for some reason. I looked Quiet Man right in the eye and nastily told him that Fred introduced us.
We locked eyes. I was being a bitch and not caring. Mr. So and So felt the cold front move in quick.
"All I am saying Muse, is that I should have introduced you."
"What?" I demanded. Who the hell was he to think he needs to introduce me to anyone at all?
"What did you say?" I quietly yelled at him as I tried to bore holes into his head with my stare.
"So and So, Muse is the most intelligent woman, she is well educated. She is such a good person, a wonderful person...." and god know what else he was saying when he topped it off with, " And So and So, Muse is my friend."
At that very moment, I had it with him. I had it with his crap and his friendship nonsense.
"Quiet Man," I snorted while looking him dead in his eyes, " I am NOT your friend."
My stare was cold, long and unrelenting.
"You are friends with anyone you stumble upon, anyone you can find," I continued.
Quiet Man stared at me in disbelief. He started to stumble on his words, trying to back track out of my anger.
"What are you drinking, Quiet Man?" I demanded.
"Water," he said, holding up his on the rocks glass.
"Since when is water yellow?" I contradicted him, "You have got to be kidding."
He ended up leaving us. So and So was still there.
He starts to tell me how he knows Quiet Man and what a good judge of character he was. Like I cared.
"So and So, you know what?" I interrupted him, "Quiet Man has a lot of secrets."
Why I said that, I don't know.
"Yeah? Tell me then, Muse!"
"No, I won't," I told So and So, "If you really want to know, go and ask him. It's a good time too, he is drinking, and hopefully quiet heavily, so you won't have a hard time of it."
I made my excuses to exit the company of Mr. So and So.
A while later, I saw Quiet Man and So and So talking to each other, with Quiet Man looking at me.
I left a short while after that to go home.
Hopefully that will be the last I see of Quiet Man. So far, so good, is what I can report.
Monday, October 1, 2007
OK, I am a reality show freak, because I need to watch mindless TV.
I am just getting over Rock of Love, and it was the first time I heard about Bret Michaels, who after watching almost every single darn episode, I found him so cute and loveable. I think because he was a Piscese. I never dated a Piscese man, but they seem to like me a lot. Weird. Actually, he seemed to be more macho than most Piscese men I have met, because they are usually more sensitive and meek. I like a man's man with an imposing figure.
But, I can't wait to start watching my girl New York. It's so trashy, I love it. I have to see her kiss the midget.