Georgia and Sara presented Seneca with a Christmas gift.
The attached card did touch Seneca!
Georgia wrote:
To Mike,
The husband we all want!
Love you,
Georgia
Damn!
Could Georgia have meant that?
Sara wrote:
We love you, Mikey!
The lovely Georgia had spent the day hanging out with Sandy and Seneca and, at the last minute, decided that she needed a wild outfit for the burlesque show she was to see the next evening. A quick call to Roxanne gains advice which sends the three to Lovers Lane for the clothes.
Seneca is worried, for he is running out of time to get ready for the date with Zoe. Seneca has begun dating due to immense dissatisfaction with Sandy, and Sandy is aware of that dissatisfaction.
When Georgia tells Sandy that it is time to buy the clothes and check out because Seneca will be late, Sandy purposely starts an extended shopping spree.
Back in the apartment, while Seneca showers, Sandy continually tries on her new sexy purchases to distract him, even needing help getting in and out of a couple of outfits.
Seneca was distracted!
Sandy succeeds in making Seneca a half-hour late!
Two hours into the date, Sandy calls Seneca to ask how the date is going. Seneca NEVER calls Sandy when she’s on a date!
Sandy was happy to hear that the date did not go well due to Zoe’s request for significant financial aid. In bed that evening with Sandy, Seneca hoped for something that would persuade him from dating others in the future.
Sandy offered no such persuasion!
He’s feeling miserable because of the problem with the American girl over the dinner scheduling last Thursday, the disaster with the Russian girl on Sunday, and the devastating loss of Adriana. All he has left is Chloe, and Chloe leaves – forever – mid-December.
Forever!
Forever!
Forever!
Even Anastasia is not returning his calls. What’s up with that!!!
But there is another girl.
She’s a top money-earner at the local premier strip club.
He was romantic with her twice well over a year ago, and it was incredible, for him. He still cannot believe that he was lucky enough to enjoy her charms.
How in the hell did that ever happen?
Of course, the age difference is huge. He has his reputation to maintain.
Liking her very much, he turned her into a friend. She hangs out at his place often, three times a week. He loves her daughter. No sex or anything even close in over a year. Just friends!
She has become affectionate, sometimes smothering his cheek in kisses, surprising him.
She loves that he does a thousand favors for her without asking for her body. Her companionship is enough for him.
Tonight she finds that he’s down, and invites him to her place.
She doesn’t prepare at all for him, for she knows her natural state is good enough. She’s wearing a red t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Her pitch-black hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She does look good.
When dressed for work, with just a little makeup and the right clothes, she has the look that causes him to drop to his knees in adoration. Fortunately, he normally sees her as she is tonight, and is able to function.
The welcoming hugs are more than perfunctory. It does seem that each does care about the other.
He has been wondering for months if she actually has some affection for him. The relationship does seem to be very slowly changing.
Very early in the relationship with Adriana, he tells her some of the difficulties. She says to overlook them, for Adriana is only 21. He asks how old a woman must be before he can take dating her seriously. With a big grin, she replies “25″.
She’s 25!
What the hell did that mean?
For weeks, he’s been referring to “her boyfriend”. She keeps correcting him to tell him she doesn’t like the guy in that way.
Why does she want him to know that?
She is totally dedicated and devoted to her daughter.
She LOVES how HE loves her daughter!!!
More than anything else in the world,
he would like to be that 5-year-old’s father!
For months, she has been reminding him of how much of the same music they have in common. She wants to go to some live shows.
He cannot believe a hot, young dancer has time for him.
Tonight, they’re hanging out, and he’s telling her how much he loves the Black Ensemble Theater. She says she’d love to go.
What???
He looks at her. Is she really saying she wants to go WITH HIM???
Seneca: “You wanna go Sunday, Honey?”
Dancer: “No, Mike. My ex doesn’t take my daughter until next weekend. Let’s go Saturday night the 20th.”
Seneca: “Honey, you’re gonna spend Saturday night WITH ME???”
Dancer: “Mike, I don’t go out anywhere near as often as you think I do!”
Seneca: “Okay, Honey, we’re going Saturday night the 20th!”
Her eyes light up, her face breaks into a huge smile, she claps her hands, and does a little dance.
He is astonished!
Does she realize with whom she’ll be?
He then invites her to Sushi Wabi. She’s been dying to go there. For some reason, all young, hot chicks love Sushi Wabi!
She melts!
Now on a roll, he invites her to the Kirov Ballet two weeks later.
She’s ecstatic!
What’s going on?”
She announces that she would like to spend the night of the 20th at his place, after dinner at Sushi Wabi and the Black Ensemble Theater. She knows that he has a very nice spare bedroom with private bath. That may be all she means.
He over-analyzes everything.
If she offers a real kiss, he may not want it. He has so much affection for her that the kiss would mean way too much. He probably could not handle a real kiss.
She is very insecure, although gorgeous. How would she take the non-acceptance of such a magnificent offer.
He has dated dancers in the past with universally disastrous results. He cannot face yet another.
Maybe he should read her this post, telling her that they will just be friends.
Except she’s so fuckin’ HOT……
and the sweetest thing on this planet……
and……
and……
Georgia’s hanging out here again today, and it’s so nice to have female company who cares about me.
As I stop the car, I see a hottie sitting at the exit of a store in the Oak Brook Mall. She stands up and gathers her packages.
My heart stops a little, for I envy those who are in relationships with girls that hot. I let my mind dream of a girl like that, pretending I don’t know it’s Georgia.
My mind snaps back to reality, and she slides into the car. I say:
“Honey, I still am lovesick over the girl in that photo!”
She replies: “Ohhh” and leans over to give me a big hug!
Startled, I realize she again thinks I’m talking about her. I instinctively lean away from her and the hug. Then I wonder what’s going on in my head.
The girl in the photo, to me, is not my friend Georgia, but an idealized woman, the perfect woman, the dream woman. The girl in the photo glides into my imagination, and I can make her whatever I want her to be.
Georgia, on the other hand, is a known entity. She is wonderful, and I know what I’ve got. I cannot make her into a magical woman in my imagination.
Georgia, and also Anastasia, have been giving me more attention lately because they know I’m lonely without Adriana. That’s so nice. We have had lunches and dinners together and she hopes I take her to Emilio’s in Hillside soon. I love her 5-year-old daughter and her dog.
In the car, Georgia, sitting in the passenger seat, will occasionally wrap both of her arms around my right arm, and press her forehead and face into my arm. It is so affectionate. I just love it!
When I drop Georgia off, she kind of jumps out of her seat so she can reach me, throws her arms around my neck, and kisses my cheek. Again, I love it!
Her 5-year-old daughter is the winner. She sits in the back seat when we’re driving. When I drop her off at home or school, she pushes her little body between the two front seats, grabs my neck really hard, and hugs for all she’s worth. It’s the best feeling in the world.
Georgia and I find that we have similar tastes in music, or should I say she loves everything? She wants to go to concerts with me. I now have a sexy buddy who will accompany me to live music. Neither one of us is interested in the other romantically.
Perhaps I settle for girls who are just friends for awhile.
A couple of hours ago, I’m sitting at the computer and a female friend is standing next to me.
Girl: “Mike, I want to talk to you.”
Seneca: “I can’t right now, Honey. I am just mesmerized by these photos!”
Girl: “But Mike, we need to talk about something.”
Seneca: “Honey, I’m not kidding. I am totally lovesick over this chick. My throat feels sore. I have pain in my upper chest. I would give anything to be with a girl like that!”
Girl: “Mike, you’re so sweet.”
Seneca (still never looking at the girl in the room): “Honey, do you know what it must be like to just be in the same room with this chick. Honey, do you realize that some mortal man has actually touched her hand. Honey, what in the world does it take to be with a chick like that?”
Girl: (With eyes smiling and her hand covering her mouth, giggles.)
The completely dysfunctional Seneca is truly lovesick over the girl in the photos. He is NOT lovesick over the beautiful creature standing next to him, a buddy of two years.
Yet the photos that so entrance him are photos of the girl standing next to him.
They are one and the same girl.
I had no idea that I look that badly.
Anastasia was just here, bodatious ta ta’s trying to escape from her form-fitting white blouse. Tight black dress pants hug her cute litte tush. She looked at me and immediately said:
“Mike, what’s wrong?”
I mumbled softly:
“Adriana”
I feel so pulled back to the bad girls,
to the dancers,
to the cute wiggles,
to the gobs of hair,
to relationships held together by cash.
I feel so at home there.
I am so miserable there.
I hope the new girl will provide a bulwark against the downward spiral, but I haven’t even met her yet.
Perhaps Adriana will give me some wisdom to turn this around. Yes, we are meeting, finally.
The problem cannot be fixed by the new girl or by Adriana. The problem is internal.
Knowledge of that does not prevent the backslide.
The dancers seem to have an uncanny sense for when I’m vulnerable.
Or maybe I’m always vulnerable.
They seem to always be within earshot.
One is sunbathing at the pool now.
She’s my buddy of two years.
Her name is Georgia
