Friday evening turned out to be an interesting turn of events, more so for my inability to foresee any consequences which may come from my actions I hasten to add. I was invited to dinner at my old flat by its present incumbents. One of the two, before of which are female, asked if I could bring along a gentleman friend, somebody who may have been open to the possibility of a liaison with said individual. Scouring my mind for all of 5 seconds, I settled on the only one amongst my comrades who could be counted upon to offer a moment of indiscretion if the opportunity so arose. For he, as he is prone to point out, is a sex addict. A hoe, who feels the constant need to rake different gardens. Personally, I think the term addict may be overstated, but I can definitely attest to his need to satisfy such wanton urges.
Anyway, upon arrival for a delicious home cooked vegetarian Austrian meal, such things do actually exist, we were greeted by the pronouncement by the much louder and more gregarious of the two, that she had been sacked from her job that very afternoon. The reasons offered by her former employers was that she was not as welcoming, friendly and smiley as she could well have been. A stranger to this individual after spending a few minutes in her company could quite easily come to the same conclusion without prompting I’m sure. For although her heart may well be in the place it is meant to, she seems to possess a curious knack of saying or doing the thing which would fit least well any given moment.
Of course such an unexpected event would play upon the mind of any individual, regardless of ones love or loathing of the means by which one earned a wage. But as best as she could, she threw herself into the proceedings. Maybe I should also point out at this moment, that she had engaged in the odd vodka or two before she rushed home to prepare for the evenings spectacular. So the wine flowed and even sparkly at that, despite my recent decision to reframe from alcohol as a going concern. But as I had brought a bottle of wine with me, for no other reason than I thought it was rude to turn up with nothing, and a last-minute visit to Sainsbury’s had failed to deliver any delicious desserts, maybe subconsciously I was always intending to usurp my recent rules. We drank and we eat the three us of anyway, as my poor friend was unable to fully throw himself into bowls and plates of food which lacked any trace of a once breathing animal. But where he lacked an ability to consume he made up for it his attitude to converse. Laughter and merriment followed for all and sundry. Once the plates had been cleared, and the meal put to rest, we returned to a topic which had previously arose. The young ladies had mentioned they were going to embark on a trip to Amsterdam in the near future. Not completely knowledgeable of their attitude to such dalliances, my friend and I, probed cautiously to the nature of their visit. Yes they were intending to smoke and to inhale the wonderful assortments that the Dam had to offer. The more worldly of the two, had on occasion partook of the ritual when in her presence it had manifested and been passed around. But the other, was as they say, a virgin to such matters.
Low and behold some blow emerged from the pocket of my friend, for this was the other present he had brought them. As he rolled the spliff as only he can, I set about providing a lesson to the darker, more open, and attractive of the two. As we huddled and furtively spoke about the dynamics of good rolling, I considered who would have thought me as a landlord would be smoking with my tenants in the place I once called my home. The moment quickly came, when the virgin took her first puff, all the while asking, what she should be feeling, and then bemoaning that nothing was afoot. But as she inhaled, her face began to change; her laugh took on a different slant, as the effects of the smoke began to take hold. In my infinite wisdom I asked them if they had engaged in blow-backs before, the reasons for doing so I’m still not completely sure. But ask them I did. They, unsure of what I referred but were willing to enjoy. I did say it would be better if the two of them did it to each other, but as they were unsure what this entailed I did offer my services, as a smoker of experience. And so I inhaled as deep as I could, turned to the loud one, placed my lips to hers, and blew smoke in her mouth. As she was so adamant that nothing transferred from mine to hers, I repeated the ritual again. Again she cried fowl, and again I accommodated. All the while thinking, “You need to turn to the other, and engage her in this act”. For to do so would be a sign of equality and fairness and would limit the impact of such an intimate act. But no, the opportunity never arose, and the moment had passed, and the evening took on its own course, as the night drew to its close.
Until later, when my friend and I were alone, it was he who drew my attention to the signs that the loud one had engaged as means of communicating who her desires lay towards. In his eye, and a fair one at that, he believed it was I and not he, who she was most enamoured by. Once my eyes had been opened, it was pretty clear to see, but in most situations my naivety extends way beyond my years and experience, to usually leave me thinking “what the fuck”. So far no contact has been had, and I do feel a sense that equality was not had, for with that it becomes a question where the conclusion is a little bit easier to reach.