Porcelain goddess

We sat across from each other. Me just down to my pants; dazed, a touch of vertigo, completely inebriated. She, sitting there seductively, intoxicating with a come-hither look upon her face. It took every ounce of my will power not to succumb to her alluring power, what with her porcelain skin and wide smile. So there we were, on the verge of something wonderful. How the heck did we end up here…

It started out just like any night, happy hour following a long day’s work, just me and the guys. The bar was crowded as usual, people all about, each trying to chatter above the din, each raising their voices until it all clashes into a cacophony of “what?”s and “I said…”s. I, sitting there with my drink, looking all dorky and nerdy as befitting my role.

Let me back up a little bit. Ladies, you know sometimes when you go to the bar, you go in a posse of sorts. Most of the time, it is a harmless gathering, ladies night out. Other times, it serves a defensive purpose – a buffer to prevent the wrong guys from hitting on one or two amongst you. Just on a side note, it’s a very effective system because it ensures that only the most qualified can get through. Those who breached that line of defense are usually individuals of great personal charisma, or have amazing wingmen who are in of themselves positive reinforcements of the guy’s image. I digress.

For guys, there is an alternative to the wingman. There is the bring-a-sap method. Let's pause for a second, you go to a bar, you see a nice looking guy who looks kind of cool and detached. He can be sitting alone drinking a Bud, or he could be surrounded by other guys. What goes through your mind? If you are like most girls, you probably think he is kind of cute, but possibly inaccessible, his friends are probably vulgar, and as a result the guy himself could possibly be a total jerk, just like any other guy. Now, what if it's the same guy, but this time he is drinking with this timid, soft-spoken, average-looking geek, someone who looks like that little brother everybody is compelled to look out for. Now, I am willing to bet he is coming across as much nicer because he is hanging out with a lesser being. "Aw, how nice of him to be hanging out with average people."

Enters me, I am that average bozo. I am homely enough to make any guy I sit next to a male model. I am dumb enough looking to make him look the man-of-the-world type. When I am there, he becomes the nice older brother who is out showing his kid brother a good time; the kid brother who inherited none of the looks and literally or figuratively hit the books a little bit too hard.I am the cute baby or pet equivalent. I am better though because I am disposable, you don't need to change my diapers or pick up my "uh-oh"s.  I can get you in, break the ice and extract myself without making  a scene. 

Suddenly, that same guy we talked about earlier is approachable, charming, and nice. He could walk over to the female posse, dragging me along, play the "Have you met my friend" game. The girls would laugh, they start a good rapport, he winks at me. Insertion complete, mission accomplished. Me being actually shy and all would slip away quietly unnoticed. I would go and drink by myself. I keep drinking until I get a slight buzzed, and realize it is time to go home.

Which brings us back to where I am now, sitting across from her, the one constant in my life. As wild a night and as late it gets, I know she will be up waiting for me, ready to embrace me. To her I go, ready to pour out all the loneliness that I try to drown out by downing one too many. Yet, in the back of my mind I know this is not healthy. I can't just throw myself at her mercy everytime I don't score elsewhere. So here I sit, trying to hold it all back, unwilling to pounce myself upon her.

Alas, my flesh betrays me... and everything comes hurling out. The two beers, one cocktail, five shots of tequila plus whatever it is that I have chewed and churned on the past 24 hours. She awallows it all, taking it all in with a chortle until I can vomit no more. Spent, I collapse at her feet, shivering, feeling dirty, hating myself. Yet my porcelain goddess, she is my sole comforter, I worship at her altar. She clears my head, cleanse my system, and because of her I am ready to face a new dawn with no hangovers.