Women and their monsters

I realized today that I have been dating like crazy these last few
months; I seemed to have put the quest for love on top of my priorities
this year and, I’m afraid, this has taken it’s toll on me. I mean
trying to involve yourself in a relationship is more than simply going
out, jumping in the sheets and satisfying particular parts of your
anatomy; it’s about satisfying your heart. This sounds simple enough
for some people I know but if you are a guy like me who’s practically
jinxed with women, it’s a herculean task that’s worth every ounce of
effort.

I want a serious relationship. A fuck buddy has alot of perks (well not
really, just one) but the heart is an entirely different animal that
needs to be nurtured with a different kind of diet that includes
bouquets of flowers, belgian chocolates, movies and quality time and I,
admittedly, miss giving those away.

Tonight, I’m taking another shot at this incomprehensible thing we call
love. She seems Ms. Right from head to toe: Long and slender legs,
perfect curves, sweet smile, glowing eyes and short, Meg Ryan-esque,
wash and wear hair which I happen to find irresistable. She also
listens to the same shit I listen to which is really cool. My hands are
currently exploring the skin on her back; under her shirt, trying to
look for that perpetually elusive bra hook. I love women’s backs, how
do they manage to maintain such soft, smooth skin? This is a mystery
that has baffled me for eons. Do they marinate it in cooking oil and
oriental lotions a certain number of hours a day? Do they rub their
bodies with fresh lemon, oranges, aloe and other secret concoctions
known only to girls?

My right hand is making a second sortie; gently feeling across her soft
skin trying to find that cursed bra hook when she tenses and pulls her
lips away from mine. Moments like these are almost always awkward. She
just stares at me deeply with her small, round eyes and I just stare
back like a moron because she’s just so cute when she does that. But
there’s something else in the way she looks at me; almost like probing
my soul for my intentions.

“Mike, I’ve had an awesome time but I think you should take me home now.�

At this point, I had to think of something to say and try to steer this
night into the direction I wanted it to go. “Why, did I say or do
something wrong?� I’m such a moron.

“No Mike, with all honesty, I’ve had a grand time tonight. The musical
was really good, the food was great and most of all I enjoyed being
with you.� She leans forward and gives me an honest, non-slutty kiss on
my lips. “But I have to get home; you see I have to get up early for
church tomorrow.�

The camera zooms in tight on my eyes at this point and my eyes are wide
and shaking just like a shocked anime character. Church? No!!!! Please
God not a regular church goer!

For a moment I was tempted to just continue kissing her and rip her
clothes off without any regard for how she would react but I thought
better of it. “um Okay.� I just said releasing the bra hook that I
found unconsciously seconds ago. I start the engine and drove us out of
the parking lot. I was tapping patiently on the steering wheel while
humming that “Horny� song. We drive around the Ortigas area for a
while without really saying anything. God! How did this happen?! One
minute I’m groping for her bra hook and the next she’s slapping me with
the infamous “Take me home, I have to go to church� line. The plot
thickens and I have a gut feel that this surprise-laden night is far
from over.

As I made that right from Poveda to Edsa-Northbound, I decide to try
and stir us out of this awkwardness. “I know, I asked you this earlier,
but did I do or say anything wrong?� I turn to look at her and she’s
staring at me with her round eyes again keeping eye contact. Why does
she have to do that all the time? Doesn’t she know she’s so cute when
she does that? “I’ve had a really good time tonight as well but this
just feels…weird, awkward and shit, I would hate to end such a lovely
evening just like this?� I added then realize that the last bit was a
little risque`.

“Mike, it’s not you, It’s me� She said finally. Now this can’t be good,
I could almost see it coming; any moment now, I’m gonna be hit by
something that would feel like a kick to the nuts.

She was running her hand across her hair and she looks like she’s
thinking of something to say. This can’t be good, it took her more than
5 seconds to answer which almost always leads to a lie. I was about to
ask another stupid question when she said “…You promise you won’t go
ballistic if I tell you something?� She asked.

No fucking way. Anything but this. Shit. The monsters come marching
down like a proud army. I can almost hear their war drums and their
battle cries.

Why are all women this way? Why the fuck do they feel obliged to
acquaint you with all of their monsters on the first date? And if the
introductions doesn’t happen on the first date, then you can bet that
they will the first time you sleep with them. My most recent encounters
with women are like this. You know what I’m saying? Every item of
clothing hit the floor 20 minutes ago and you’re getting to the best
part then suddenly she feels the urge to introduce you to John the
monster who encompasses her fear of serious relationships. Or Bill, the
frightening monster who encompasses the memory of that abortion she did
with a coat hanger back in her college freshman year.

There are alot of monsters I’ve met prior to these as well. All my Ex
girlfriends have their monsters but what I hate about their monsters is
that they put down all their menacing cards on the table so late in the
game. Schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur? I’ve met a monster who
does that trade; Hypocritical Long distance relationship crusader with
sexual addictions? Sure enough, I’ve met a monster who does that trade
as well. Name it, they’ve got it all and having a monster sink its
talons on my mortal flesh as early as the dating phase is a blessing in
disguise as far as I’m concerned. The point is monsters ARE monsters
and I hate them all. I want them all back under the bed. But I reckon,
that’s what monsters are all about- Jumping out from under the bed and
yelling “boo!�

Don’t get me wrong, I am a very good listener and I’m a very sensitive
man with a good measure of empathy. But why? and I ask again, Why? do
women have to bring it up when they’re lying in your arms completely
naked for the first time or when you’re fumbling to unhook their bras?

“I’m married.� She says. (“BOO!!!� screams Larry the monster into my ear.)

I nearly careened off the fly-over. Well not really but that would be a
funny scene wouldn’t it? And I need some humor right now because
nothing’s very funny at this point.

I pulled her hair and banged her cranium into the windshield repeatedly…or at least I was tempted to.

“um Okay.� I said trying to sound unaffected.

“I don’t want to get into specifics and details. But I am. I mean you’re a very sweet guy but I just can’t lie to you Mike.�

My foot was pressing down hard on the accelerator and my car is flying well over 100 travelling north-bound on EDSA.

“I enjoyed making out with you though,� She says “And I think you’re a hella cool guy. I felt like I’ve known you all my life.�

“Yeah I know. I feel the same.� Actually I don’t. I mean, FUCK, I can’t
believe this! This could only happen to me. I get set up with a
bombshell who looks and feels like she’s Ms. Right from head to toe. We
hit it off and she’s fucking married?

WHY? WHY? WHY? The word “Married� has this haunting ring to it. She
could have said “Herpes.� or “Syphilis� and it would sounded less
irritating; I would’ve done it with her anyway but there’s no
contesting the fact that she’s married. End of story