George Clooney

What had been a casual, easy relationship had turned into the hottest gossip in town. I was getting dirty looks and cold shoulders at every turn. A friend told me that he'd been backstage at a show, and overheard a somewhat-famous singer calling me a ho.

A ho!

MEDUSA was trying to destroy me (amongst lame alt-country musicians, but still). It seemed that THE CARPENTER was no longer even part of the equation.

A bit of rage was building up in me. One night, while on a bike ride, I pulled over and demanded he do the same. On a busy street corner, I threw off my helmet and asked him for an explanation. He claimed to feel bad about MEDUSA's actions, but he laughed when I told him about the arm-rubbing incident. He was reveling in the attention. Suddenly he was George Clooney and not the sweet southern boy who picked me flowers. In my mind, I heard him saying, "Ladies! There's enough of me to go around!" So I said something mean as a way of diffusing my own hurt:

ME: I don't love you, therefore I will not put up with your shit.

I hopped on my bike and rode away before the tears started.

Oh No She Didn't

The morning after the lilacs: I slipped out of THE CARPENTER's apartment and he whispered, "You have a good day, little lady. Call ya later."

By the end of that week, THE CARPENTER had still not called, but played at the club where I work. I asked how he was doing, and he just said, "I'll tell ya about it later."

But he didn't need to tell me. Outside the club, I heard thunder strike and turned around to see MEDUSA [his ex] approaching.

MEDUSA's reputation precedes her - she's usually described as "scary." She is 7 inches shorter than myself, with brown hair down to her ass and the biggest breasts you've ever seen on a child-body. Her eyes are clear blue and she doesn't smile much. She'd be cute if she wasn't so fucking terrifying.

The surrounding crowd looked on in horror/excitement as she put her hand on my arm and her eyes burned up into mine. As much as I wanted to be the bigger person, I knew I was about to stoop to crazybitch level. This happened:

HER: I know what you did.
ME: What?
HER: (rubbing my arm) I feel sorry for you.
ME: Are you touching me?
HER: (rubbing my arm some more) I know what is going on.
ME: Bitch, I'm gonna make you cry if you don't stop touching me.

I then searched the club and found THE CARPENTER and threatened his life.

The Fling

After being home for a day, THE CARPENTER asked me out on an official date. I invited him to my place, and he kissed and squeezed me as I cooked. After dinner, we went to a local diner for dessert and then sat in the car in front of my place, fumbling over whether he ought to stay over. He did.

The next morning, we talked about his ex. They'd broken up a few months before, and I'd heard all about the messiness through the grapevine. She & I are in the same professional circle, and I knew she was, uh...intense. He feared she would be upset about his 'new relationship.' I quickly added that we were just getting to know eachother, so there'd be no need to go public with this affair. It could just be a fun spring fling, right?

A month later, the sex got a little less like lovemaking, and alot more like fucking on my dining room table (and his back porch, and against any wall that'd hold me). We spent a lot of time together - cooking, listening to records, and finally started to go public with the affair in certain circles.

Over Memorial Day weekend, he asked me to meet him under the buckeye tree at a nearby park, where he greeted me with lilacs and told me he liked me, a statement neither of us had made until then. We sat under the starless city sky, blind to the impending wrath of MEDUSA.

The Dicks Continue

I got buggered by the handful of you about the lack of posts. I assure you I have not been absent due to a lack of dicks. It's been a busy summer.

I'll fill you in on the rest of SXSW. It got good.

THE CARPENTER [The guy working in my building] happened to be passing through Austin on my last day there. He phoned me in the early evening and asked if I'd meet him on the east side of town for a party at an old posh hotel. An hour later, crossing the bridge, I saw his perfect face shining under a street lamp and knew I'd kiss it.

We sat on pavement with our feet dipped into a pool filled with flowers, listening to some country band who might have been terrible had my feet not been in a pool. We discussed books and friends and discovered we'd be on the same flight home the next morning.

The obvious option was to stay together (for the sake of convenience}, so we rounded up my bags and went to THE CARPENTER's hotel, where in a twin bed we had our first kiss and a slow, sweet fuck. I faked an orgasm and we slept on top of one another.

I squirmed when he arranged for us to sit together during the flight, and even more so when he held my hand. He was pretty and I told myself this was a nice way to spend vacation.