Dish towels. Or tea towels if you live somewhere a little more colonial. Pretty innocuous right? Usually found hanging from the oven handle in kitchens all over the world. Perfect for drying dishes and wiping up spills. Potentially the understated MVP of the kitchen.
Or are they callous betrayers and the spawn of the goddamn devil?
Today I walked past a woman on the street. Well, I actually walked past many women on the street. I imagine I passed a countless number of women without seeing them as anything other than another obstacle to navigate on the streetscape. Equality yo.
Some I did notice. One in particular caught and held my attention.
I’ll admit, the prime cause of this noticing was most usually because I found these passing strangers to be attractive. Shiny. I’m not sure if it’s OK to find women attractive in these modern times, or call them shiny, but the truth is the truth. I get distracted by shiny things. Women included. If I were a bower bird decorating my nest it would be built and decorated with attractive women. Well, I mean, um… Hmm. That metaphor took a decidedly grim turn. I leave it up to you to come up with your own. Hopefully one that’s a little less Ed Gein-y.
Ah, the long goodbye. Essentially any time one person is forced to interact with another person this bizarre exercise in human interaction can happen. It’s probably happened to you. And it’s the dirt worst.
Imagine. Or recall. You’re at a party, family gathering, meeting, wedding, funeral, work function, bris, intervention, or something as low key as a few quiet beers with a friend… At some point you will invariably decide that the event or whatever is over, you’ve had enough, and you’re going to leave.
So. I haven’t written anything more substantial than an email in quite a while. Admittedly a number of those emails were quite profound; like when confirming my attendance at upcoming team meetings in the vein of an overwrought Hemingway. And granted, I have written a few texts that have ended up being an epic four or five “pages” long. Hell, even some of my snapchats can get pretty wordy. No mere “send nudes” from this little black duck.
So I’m in Bali sitting in my usual favourite café/bar/warung enjoying a deliciously inexpensive meal and a quietly cold beer. After a big morning of riding around aimlessly on my bike and soaking in the human potpourri that is Bali I had built up an appetite for relaxation. I’ve given my order to the dependably perky waitress and eagerly await the forthcoming taste sensation.
The man is thinking about buying a silver statue of some deity that he finds physically attractive, because that’s what he’s doing. He is in a new/small shop on a busy street in a town in another country. A country he’s visited many times before and is familiar with.
He haggles over the price and walks away from the sale over a 50 cent difference of opinion. As he’s leaving he says to no one in particular that he’ll check how much money he has at the ATM.
He walks to the ATM, which to him seems oddly close to the small shop; it almost definitely wasn’t there when he went into the shop. The man doesn’t notice these things.
I have never paid for sex. Well, not in the traditional way of exchanging money for goods or services. I have, however, paid through other less direct means. Dinners, holidays, clothing, jewellery, heartache, angst, slashed tyres…
For those keeping score at home; I don’t think that there is anything wrong with exchanging money for sex. A business transaction that happens between two, or more, consenting adults is strictly their business and by no means grounds to judge.
That said; it’s not something that I myself would do. My rationale being: why pay money to remove the pleasure of mutually thrilling exploratory conversation? I like conversation. Conversation with a girl you find physically and mentally stimulating is the greatest invention of all time.
I’ve seen this jibberish pass through my facebook feed at least 29 times and every single time I angstily think to myself “Who posts this shit? What’s the purpose? What are you trying to convey? That you’re deep? That you yourself think like this? WHY ARE YOU POSTING THIS!?!”
These supposed words of wisdom are often incorrectly attributed to a wide variety of knowledgeable people: Bruce Lee, Buddha, Christopher Reeve, Confucius and Vanessa Carlton to fictional characters like Yoda and Morgan Freeman.