polite chit-chat

another development related to the owner's new digs, and our different status, is i'm now meeting friends and acquaintances of his. previously under tight wraps, i'd only ever met one, and that was through a business happenstance -- one to which i only agreed when the owner intervened on said friend's behalf. (that he turned out to have been best man at the wedding and eventually privy to my role in marital unraveling shamed me badly.)

he's a friendly fellow and lowell seems perfect for that. i don't know if his building is a microcosm, or some sort of hothouse, but he already knows many more of his neighbors than do i. (then again, i don't *want* to meet new people quite as much as he seems to do.) when handshakes and names are offered, i'm simply introduced as noodle. there is no, "this is my___________, noodle." what he calls me in private won't do in public, he's yet to find something that will, and also adamantly does not want to be perceived as part of couple, for the obvious disadvantages that would present to his non-monogamy. among some, there seems to be a twinkling foreknowledge of my existence, but heaven only knows who/what they think i am. (he also will never tell me how or what he discusses about me when i'm not around, only adding to my murky view, and likely clouding many women's wishful thoughts.)

he's mentioned the bellydancer in passing, and that this weekend she was having various spreads to coincide with the party outside. he'd warned me she was hot for him, which i had no trouble believing, and been honest that she didn't float his boat. ok, clear enough.

we walk into a hen party. oh, dear. all were very nice, very friendly and her apartment was comfy in a very girly way. but the octaves were up there and the cross chat about kids and husbands is never my idea of fun. they encircled him like a swarm of bees, and the "look-at-me" mating behaviors would have been funny if not for -- no, ya know what? it was funny.

classic female style, they couldn't seem to get organized and out the door, til i reminded everybody the music for tonight was nearly through and let's go.

twice that night, i was asked what to most would be a simple question, "how did you two meet?" harmless enough, but one that i was taught never to ask. (along with, unless somebody is already discussing their work, never ask what they *do*, nor how much do they make.) chalk it up to my family's twisted sense of propriety and previously recorded bad behaviors, but the tawdry reality of us is not something anybody really wants to face, and will only beg more invasive questions. nerf balls, i deflected them easily. folks just want to talk about themselves anyway, so it's never hard to scooch sideways by answering a question with a question. (there also was the silent stone of why i've never met his brother, while they all had, i think more than once. that was trickier for a sec, but see above.)

after saving her life by killing a bug crawling on one hysterical woman's leg, i'd had it and marched solo to the nearby dance tent. i *was* here for music, lol. the owner seemed to reach his threshold shortly after, and truth be told, we didn't spend a whole lot of time with the harem over the course of the weekend. he made a polite appearance each day to her new fete, bringing me along, and we naturally ran into them here and there.

the tawdry table turned though when we awoke to her less-than-polite late-night drunken texts. oh, dear indeed, lol. at brunch, they all looked quite a bit worse for wear, yet she seemed not at all embarrassed when he showed her the digital evidence. she tried laughing it off as innocent, but 7 messages seems pretty determined to me, lol, even while swilly. it was endearing to see how gentle he was in his chiding, but she certainly didn't seem to take it as discouragement. (her invites later in the day confirming that theory, lol. however, she seems not to realize if he hasn't yet tried to fuck her, in all these months, her chances continue to diminish daily. why is it most women don't like to know how men's minds really work, lol?)

i've always teased the owner about him being irresistible -- that he's nectar to any bird in flight. his modesty makes him tell me it's only because the intensity of my attraction makes me project. it was charming to see him flattered by all the attentions and how *nice* he was to all those ladies. truly kind. in the *before time*, i never had the chance to see him through the eyes of others and i liked being reminded of just how great he is, ya know? (not that i forget, but i saw it writ large in those heaving horny women and heard it from a few other folks with whom we bent elbows.)

strange the turns life takes, the possibilities that arise and how much better so much is than i ever imagined possible.

lucky me. :)