I’m house sitting with my 17 yo son and tonight made a manly meal of brats, beans and fries. All of your basic food groups. To say he doesn’t give an ‘F” about what I’m doing is an understatement. After my hastily prepared meal, he disappeared back into his man cave. Father and son time concluded.
Meanwhile, up in Toronto, Canada, brown tiger is in full diva mode, working a never before seen 45 hours a week, he’s already screaming at the salon manager about how he wants things organized. He admitted to me this evening that his ‘best’ yelling and screaming is reserved for me and his own father. I’m not sure whether I should be honored or in shock. But yell, yelp, groan, whine, bitch, complain — he’s good at all of these.
Professor Tim and I were talking about whether it would be great to just have an FB or FWB (see I can do gay now). Fuck buddy or Friends with Benefits for those newly hatched. Someone you could meet up with once a week (maybe ever other week), have dinner, retire back to his/your place, put on the new fandango, have a coffee in the morning and see you round fella. Calls and contact strictly limited to setting up the next get together. Minimal emotional engagement. No talking about your work week. Keep the conversation high, alcohol flowing and let the nighttime activities begin.
A lot of that sounds quite promising to me. That is until I awoke this morning clutching my brown pillow, sniffing on it, hoping to catch the faint scent of TC on it. At that moment, I realized that Utopian world wasn’t for me. I need someone in my life every day. I depend on a bit of drama. A little challenge. Coaxing TC down out of his tree when he’s up there hissing and snarling. Nothing makes me happier to see his paws as he clambers down, overtaken by my dialog.
But I do indeed see this as a possibility for some. In fact, one of my previous engagements wanted it to work that way. Don’t try to get into my life, we’ll engage on very specific terms (dinner, movie, sex and sometimes just sex). Only I didn’t understand the rules of engagement. It seems empty, shallow, perhaps too dreamy or unrealistic, but looking around I suspect we all know people who have this type of relationship on the side. Not ashamed to admit, simply, it’s a side of them that is their own private domain.