Ramblings at the start of the week

On the way here I remembered something about Joe which I had left out in an earlier post.  On the very first evening after Joe and I left the pub on the Thames next to the Golden Hind, we were importuned by a young woman claiming to have had her belongings and money stolen. She appeared a little unsteady on her feet but was sufficiently coherent to be able to make her request and tell her unhappy tale. To Joe’s credit he listened patiently and sympathised claiming that he too had been in a similar position when he first arrived in London. He gave her a small amount of change from his trouser pockets and we left her there, our conscience somewhat ameliorated.

I was of course sceptical about her story and now on further reflection, ask myself – why shouldn’t it be true? It’s entirely plausible that a young person should find herself destitute after spending a night at a homeless shelter as the other residents would consider her an easy target and fleece her of her belongings. I felt unsettled at my uncharitable attitude.  The whole incident reminded me of Kaoru who told a similar tale when she had been accosted on Tower Bridge on one of her first days in London. Coming from Japan where it was unfamiliar to see anyone begging in the streets, she had been at once horrified and then sympathetic by the story spun. She had also been relieved of ten pounds, quite willing to have parted with more to help the poor man but when she went home to tell her husband he had laughed at her and made her feel extremely foolish.

So I had nearly forgotten this human side of Joe.  In any event, I hadn’t heard from him since our last date about ten days ago.  He must’ve only wanted a shag and perhaps I was not someone he felt he could maintain a relationship with.  Or perhaps I wasn’t that great in bed or my recounting of the evening in my blog had put him off entirely.

There was another incident which had also nearly slipped my memory, involving Carlos whom I met on Saturday afternoon after he contacted Ellie on the dating site. I had closed Amy’s account and Ellie resembles more the typical female on such sites ie someone looking for a relationship rather than a roll in the proverbial. It isn’t so much an incident that happened on Saturday but something which he told me about himself when he was in Atlanta. He said he hadn’t liked it at all because the place had been overrun with black people. He said there were so few whites that he felt threatened and uncomfortable. I didn’t react at the time but thought him bold to admit to such feelings. He is nothing if not honest even if such honesty smacks somewhat of xenophobia.  Why should large numbers of black people appear menacing – there is no justification for this feeling – unless one had been previously attacked in an unprovoked manner by a mob of blacks.  I myself am not white – was he unable to see that.  Except of course he probably had a different stereotype in mind when he looked at me.

I declined Carlos’s invitation to meet up again and wished him luck. At the time I did that I only remembered his smoker’s breath and not wanting to be kissed by him. Apart from his pale aquamarine eyes I was not attracted to him. We had finished our refreshments and I was happy to show him around Kenwood House. During the walk it further emerged that he was not a fan of Almodovar and I suppose this was another factor against him.  Little things like his slight midriff paunch and baldness, which on their own would not have been a problem all counted against him.  So I turned down his request for a second date.

Ellie’s profile has a deterrent built into it – she can get obsessive, bunny boiling obsessive and so the only people who contact her either have not noticed it or if they did and refer to this, have only done so from an enormous distance – Rudy from Shanghai for instance.  He is about six years younger than me but sounds quite normal and funny.  Alas I’ve not heard from him since the weekend when he told me about his dog which he rescued from certain death five years ago – he had found it in a bucket in a skip.

Still, Amy has managed to attract a sufficient number of escorts to occupy her.  While some have been away over the Easter holidays – Jan, Lars, Darren and Goran – there was Max, who has kept her busy, and of course the first daters who had been fun to get to know – Daniel, Jonathan, Lewis, Richard, Dominic, Ben, Reg, Carlos and Joe. I treated Daniel quite badly, once driving round to his en route to work with the sole purpose of a quickie. Having achieved my objective I have not seen him since. I’m reluctant to meet up with Lewis again primarily because he is not terribly well endowed. He is very well read and good company otherwise but I am not in a hurry to see him again. Similarly with Reg who is a rather large man, who admitted that he does not go to the cinema or theatre because the seats are too small. Perhaps I could introduce him to sofa cinema at the Everyman.  But still I have enough prospective dates that I don’t miss these ones.

Goran and Lars are making their way back from their Easter holidays and I’m especially looking forward to meeting up with them again. I have yet to go to bed with Goran and wonder if his reticence might have anything to do with some physical deficiency. Lars, I’d only briefly described in Amy’s blog – he was plan B for the date which went so wrong with Dilip.  Attempting to remedy the lack of literature on Lars I’ve now written a page and a half about him.

The one who has my heart at the moment is Max. He is almost the opposite of me – needing to be busy, prone to thinking (badly) about himself, having a neurotic personality, being quite humorous with a generous amount of self-deprecation thrown in, occasional self-aggrandisement and fear of falling in love.  Where I could easily spend a day doing nothing and deriving pleasure from that, the mere thought fills him with dark depression. The dates with him are unsurprisingly eventful, being filled with some form of activity or other – tennis, theatre, walks across the Thames and parts of central London, swing dance lesson, picnic on the Heath, even a visit to the clap clinic!  Our next one is to be a history walk unless I can come up with something more energetic.

Why am I so enamoured of him?  He is my type, I suppose – not an alpha male, completely geeky and shy but with sufficient wit and intelligence to be interesting and amusing company.  And of course well-endowed and willing to experiment.

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