wasting thyme

Such a happy happy Friday! Friday! Bounce in step, feeling fit and vital for the first time in wow has it been 6 months? 4 months of breaking up is hard to do? Humming and hip shaking through the day. Yoga Friday night involving 5 minutes in each pose and dark circles under the eyes as relaxation melted deep tissues and shifted bones. Home. Corona. Snack. Text message. Come out. Am with ad boys after shoot having drinks - at the annoying queen street fabulous spot that we ab-whore (if only because of the precarious situation known as ‘total financial ruin’). Text back. Am on way. 10 minutes. Perfect. Must wind self up several notches to fly in to the night sans plan. Get to spot, move upstairs where crew is deeply ensconced in drinks where girlfriend is spotted with 12 men. Yes, 12. Drinks start flowing my way with the precision timing of a factory conveyor belt. Lychee martinis, lemon drops, gin martinis, jaegermeister, champagne, white wine. In something approximating that order. Hmm. Of the 12 11 are single. we are the fresh meat (fresh to death! I exclaim later in the evening to but one barely lucid chuckle). We are 2 and can take on 11. an ancient martial art that is felt not seen, heard not done, just been. The conversation is utterly inane and is this: entirely sex and the city. if you had to cast it everyone would be highly accomplished and hopelessly bitter – art directors, photographers, architects, lawyers and hangers-on et. al. some highlights:

Who’s the girl?
Wanna make out?
If we go fuck can she come too?
I think my problems with my father stem from the fact that he had me when he was 39 and he had a stroke last year………..
I became ________ because I was idealistic but now I’m so jaded, my work is meaningless, it’s all a game and everyone’s out to fuck ___________________

Really.

Then somehow the 2 girls and the 12 men get in cabs and head to the strip club. for your eyes only: All Nude Executive Strip Club. Today, as I walked to brunch (and only as i walked to brunch) it occurred to me that this was a strange thing to do given the ratio. Strange to the girls that is. and tortuous to the boys. As homo erotic as organized sports to be sure…. Many highly charged men in a grown-up version of a circle jerk. charming! Strip club is 80’s neon but reasonably well appointed (executive!) and all the girls are pleasant and relaxed. We plan to return shortly with a gaggle of girls. Seems like the perfect warm up spot somehow. I get asked by our host for the evening to take a tour of the upstairs which encircles the club – sure, why not. I’m totally in control here and I’m awfully (wasted) curious to see why you want to go upstairs and what’s there. More naked girls. Everywhere. I get the uncontrollable urge to plant kisses on our host. Heel! Restraint! Whore-mones! This is not the time, place or situation for many many reasons. Visit upstairs culminates in cigarette snuggled deep in a black leather sofa. Then back downstairs. spot non dancing girls so pop over for some reconnaissance. putting the coco in chanel. We break it down. Climate change, politics, religion, why sha ne ne should not go with girl A to do dude B and off I return to the ever more awestruck table. we’re down to 8. The conversation scraps quoted above should surely not leave dear reader wondering why girls were the better way…….

In describing the evening to my sister, it was explained that our time at the one-eyed-hooker was simply excellent and that I plan to return again soon, soon, for a deeper dive in to a pocket of society that is somehow strangely compelling. Feminist studies on the fly in the belly of the beast. I’ve always felt it best to get up close to things… I will be sure to keep you postage. and very very loco.