Wanna Play?

Warning: sex, drugs and foul language - but no rock and roll

Tiny rivulets of energy run down my throat and bounce in my gut. The tremor radiates out from my center and my legs feel weak and my arms feel numb. The back of my throat almost hurts, my head feels light. And this all at a suggestion of someone whispering in my ear. This is me. In my office. May 2005. It’s hysterical.

Damn. I am having a flaming affair with a married man. Well, let me describe flaming. For one, he lives in another country, and two, it all takes place on AOL Instant Messenger. And finally, he is happily married, so it is about as far away from reality as you can get and still have a rope attached.

And I waffle back and forth between thinking that I have now sunk to a new low of being pathetic, as I fall in lust/like/love with rows of words typed in a box, or if I should say “what the fuck… use this guy for all the energy he is worth.” I mean, if I can get totally hot sitting at my desk, by doing nothing but typing what color underwear I have on to some man (married man), I’ll never meet, than WHO CARES?

But let’s examine the men I’ve met since being divorced.

First there is Mr. X – married, but open marriage (whatever the fuck THAT means). And even though open marriage, definitely on the brink of being over. Six months of complete obsession and acting like I was 15. Lovely. Something I’d like to forget. Also, did I mention I work with him?

Mr. G (as in Mr. Government) – dad of one of the kids in the theater group that my daughter attends. Works for some weapons manufacturer who contracts for the government. When he goes to work he goes “inside”. I picture doors and badges and retina scanning…. I am attracted to him for four months. Finally he notices me. We have a few very hot emails. Then we go out. He orders the Pinot wine (as in he said “pee-not”). And if that wasn’t a big enough deal breaker, he then proceeded to tell me all his problems with his ex-wife (she’s crazy, of course), his lack of money, his complete devotion to his kids (ok, this is admirable), and how he is sometimes “goofy”. I don’t even ask him to elaborate. I lost him between the pee-not wine and the whining of no money.

Backgammon – a recently separated man who tells me on our first date that he is a recovering heroin addict. Ok, I can deal with that, having been married to an alcoholic; it might be nice to be with someone who can deal with addiction and his emotions. But no cigar. I just don’t have an emotional and spiritual connection (as described by John Gray). Yeah, he’s a babe and he has a perfect body, but I already married a perfect body. That doesn’t matter. And to top it off, I don’t think he’s interested so the point is moot.

Then there’s Smoker. Ok, he’s single (he smokes three packs a day). But is he available? No. Can’t commit to shit. Very fun and very communicative when he can commit, but that is rare. He keeps saying, “I am not ready to have a relationship.” I keep saying “I don’t want a relationship" (I just want sex, but I didn’t volunteer that). But, hey “I don’t want a relationship.” OK, I get it!!!

So, here I am, looking at my screen. I mean, this man can pick up via typed words the areas I am hesitant to talk about. I have no idea what he looks like. He sends me songs about vodka in strange languages and then translates the words. Wants to know what I am wearing. But at the same time he’s made it very clear that chatting with me is like looking at playboy. All fantasy.

So, I’m going with it. Wanna play? I’ll play.