Last Saturday I was attending Internations for the sole purpose of documenting the "husband hunter creep" that's been taking place. I took several hilariously incriminating photos of old men with egg sucking grins on their weather beaten faces getting squiffy with young women who were out for a pint of blood and a pound of flesh and was about to call it a night when I somehow fell in with a new crowd.
Nick, Nora, Daisy, and Antony were sitting together. Nick and Nora are married, Daisy and Antony have just met and are not dating. Nick is from Latin America, and Nora is from the UK, same as Daisy and Antony. I can't really describe them like I normally would because I don't want to "out" anyone or hurt their feelings, so I'll be as oblique as I can while still giving you the idea. (Hence the fake names).
Nick is one of those people who appears friendly and outgoing to the naked eye, but upon closer look is one of the most bone chillingly dangerous people I've ever met. He's angry. So angry you can feel it radiating off him like heat waves. He has "shark eyes" and likes to brag, with a look on his face daring you to challenge his statements, which are 200% baloney.
I'm not sure what the attraction is for Nora, since Nick is not only racist and "thick", he's also the kind of brute that threatens to beat his wife (ha, ha just joking, except I'm totally not!), making the group make rapid, uncomfortable decisions about if they're going to "say something" or not. (Antony did. "You better not say things like that around us [sportsmen]" he growled, drawing himself up to his full 6'1" and looking every bit the taxidermied bear that still scares the hell out of you. Good on him!
Daisy is also quite a piece of work-- wearing a tight tank top and tailored shorts, and high heeled canvas sandals and a backpack (!!!), she looks and acts like a woman who has had the radish with being "the best friend".
She's sort of...that girl that can't understand why she's not getting hit on when other women of her same caliber are being landed on like pianos by men and she is PISSED about it. In my experience it has to do with how well you can give that man the milk and honey, and this girl couldn't give a man the Big Daddy with a gun to her head. (or if you're beautiful, how well you can act like you both know and don't know you're a sex object, but that's of little concern for women who are less than gorgeous).
Well, Nick and Nora want to go to Ringside (a bar to horrible to describe except let's just say its main attraction is midget wrestling). So I make a split second decision and decide "YOLO" and what the hell, I'll go. So all five of us are going. At Ringside, Nora decides that Antony, who is a big, burly, nice, white bread guy should be getting some attention from me, and she uses these words to try to convince me:
Me: "I dunno Nora, I kind of have an Indian / Mid Eastern-only dating policy. I'm not really feeling the white dudes right now."
Nora: "It's an opportunity, love, take it."
Okay fine. Why make waves?
After Ringside, we hit up another bar and Daisy proceeds to take to the stripper pole...repeatedly. It was hard to watch, not because she was bad at it, but because she had a look on her face like she was in a fistfight. I know that look. It's the look you give yourself in the mirror when you're drunk again and you don't want to the leave the bar yet and you're asking yourself "is this really happening again? I hate you." Antony and I are left taking care of her when Nick and Nora leave ostensibly with her, but lose track of her and just leave without her. Sigh. Antony puts her in a cab and then he and I down some drinks while I fall in love with the only man in the room who looks like he wishes he were at the library (an Indian at another table).
So I get to know Antony, who, while not rough sledding, is not the sparkiest man in the room. Read the book "Snobs" by Julian Fellows to get a better idea of what I'm talking about. Raised "abroad" in HK and *loaded* with family money and with a voice that sounds like fruit salad over crushed ice (like Tim Curry in his Rocky days), he's used to women dying to get to know him, and isn't used to women like me, who's attitude is "Show me what you got." (And since that's what most guys knock themselves out to do, it works out pretty well).
It goes well enough, and my attitude is "well, he's certainly the most eligible man in the Philippines." Worst case, I make a new friend. No big. As it happens, there's an event that Thursday and we wound up carpooling. (Antony has exceptional manners and offered me a ride after my broad hinting, among the most cultured I've ever seen, Even beating out Frenchmen) Same verdict. Super nice, smart, but....he's the type that thinks he's the black sheep when he's really the whitest of the white. Nice to talk to, and can hold his own, but not an original thought in his head.
Then Sat we went to a sporting event (can't say much more or it may give away the people involved). The event itself was fine, and the after party tolerable, but it became super clear to me that these were not "my people" as Daisy and Antony (who had come along, this time hair done, makeup on, etc) gassed away about golf, golf clubs and special rules golf tournaments, and excel files (wish I was kidding) in the car, and I was thinking "Wow, these two are happy as clams making the world's MOST BORING conversation. Good lord, even if I liked this guy, I would have no chance with him. I'm not only outside this world, whatever it is, I'm from a different fucking planet. A cool planet, btw."
At the bar after the game wretched Nick was there making remarks like "I can't hold it in anymore! That country is full of _____[racist slur against Muslims here]" and punctuating the remark for those that might not have gotten it by winding an invisible turban around his head with a lemon sucking mouth. Words fail me.
I left early and Antony and I made plans to go to a BBQ at Nick and Nora's the next day (We both like Nora and didn't want to punish her for being married to a boor.) Antony is the kind of man you can REALLY picture yourself married to, but there is no attraction there, no fire, you don't feel that all the world is well lost for love of him (unlike some of my exes, who I was cra-aa-aaa-zy about). So that's part of the reason I kept on giving it so many chances. I was in full on Lily Bart mode. Make it workkkkk!!!
So this BBQ was kind of like "it's now or never" for the romance. Now, it's not clear if he had any attraction to me, but he would sometimes flirt in the mildest way possible-- long looks from his very pretty eyes, laughing at my silly jokes, paying for things, etc. So we arrived at the BBQ, which was 45 minutes out of town, together and the rest of the party sort of assumed we came as a "date". (That's key for the rest of the story).
Well, as soon as I arrived, I see this good looking dame, Edith. Edith is also from the UK and she's very cute. And she's wearing a man- killer outfit: tiny denim cut offs with a chiffon long- sleeved blouse. She's not super skinny, but this outfit makes the most of what she's got (decent legs) and glosses over her (minor) flaws (not so perfect upper half). She has a sharp, pretty face with lovely eyes- sparkling warm brown. She also has crooked incisors, which men go FUCKING APESHIT for. (Don't know why, but men LOVE that flaw). In short, my goose is cooked. Have at it, Edith.
Edith has at it. Short version, after a few drinks all of repair to the lawn (where Nick says something oddly prophetic---most awful mean people have a radar for people's weak spots and true nature--- "I want you to lead the group because you're the most lady like one here"--shortly to be proven beyond a shred of doubt!) where Edith lands on Antony LIKE A TON OF BRICKS. Like, giggly whisper flirting nonsense as if it's 4AM at the Pink (shout out Buffalo!!) and running her bare foot up and down his tree trunk of a leg while they lay there like they're all alone, hitting on each other with bald faced intentions. Honestly people, it was like he was Johnny Depp! (Which he ain't).
Wow. I was miffed, only in the sense that A) Edith, who I otherwise like, is totally breaking the girl code. Girl, you gotta ask the lady who came with Mr. Hotstuff if it's okay before you whip off your bra to impress him! You don't just come in for a landing on the runway! "Hey, Na, Antony's so cute. So, how long have you guys been dating? Oh, you're not! Well...."
and
B) Antony, do your thang, honey. But don't tell your date you're leaving in 30, and then get engaged in a drawn out prelude to a tumble right afterwords, leaving her to find her own way home 45 minutes out of town. AND if you come with one lady, it's the HEIGHT of rudeness to publicly announce with your actions "Oh, that old hag? She's totally a friend. Heyyyy how youuu doin?"
My face was literally warm with anger, but I thought "Just cool it. You don't want this guy, and you're not going to be dog in the manger about this. There's no way to play this except graciously leave, and then remain friends. And then find a way to post it on FB."
Which leads me to my final words: All you need is money, honey, and you too can have the girl of your dreams. And all I need is to keep looking.
