Liquid Courage

I don’t mind a drink now and then. I don’t like the feeling I get when I’m drunk, or the dark place my mind goes after a few stiff drinks. Liquor makes all of my meanness come to the surface and I turn downright ornery. I know some people use a drink now and then and drinking as an excuse for their behavior.

I don’t appreciate when the only time I’m hit on is when the person has their confidence amped up by a drink or two. It’s discouraging and any comments made just sound like they’re horny and insincere… even if they admit that they feel that way sober.

I remember a good friend many years ago drunk dialed me late in the evening and then waxed poetic about my perfectly round ass… and how it made him feel guilty. They were in a relationship and told me they watched “ebony porn” and would get off thinking of how it would be to have fun with that rump of mine. I admit I had a tiny crush on that friend and knew that they were with someone. I wouldn’t make a move unless it was the kind of union where that kind of thing was allowed. Still, it left a little bit of a bad taste in my mouth. They apologized the next morning to say they felt ashamed of themselves and that they felt they’d very much disrespected me. I didn’t care that they found me hot. The matter is that they couldn’t say so otherwise.

Alcohol was an excuse.

That friend long stopped drinking but I do remember the words…

And so I feel quite annoyed over some words that were passed to me last night. He admitted that he thought I looked great during his “day visit”, expressed interest in doing more, talked a little about a quickie during my lunch break (to which I said it would be a terrible tease), and then invited me to go to the shore with him over the weekend.

He was drunk.

I joked a little that I’d take him more seriously after he sobered up a bit if he could still hold that invitation out.

He hasn’t said another word.

Of course I could just be looking at this prematurely. I know before I felt a lot of longing, just wanting to be told I looked good after that whole day of nothing. After dolling up just a teeny bit instead of the full make up of the day before, I wanted to be told I looked good. Even after seeing the mouse that night – he didn’t say a word. Just for me a soft, sloppy kiss and a hello and good bye. I’m not at all impressed. He might talk to me more again tonight regarding this matter but I won’t talk to him seriously unless he shows a shred of courage… of not turning tail under the “pressure”. He hasn’t said a word yet about it though he has said as much as a hello and that he managed to pass out last night.

And I’m back to not expecting much.