Friday afternoon, an associate and I cruised into Beluga Bar, sat down and proceeded to consume some alcholic beverages. My double Jack on the rocks went down well on that warm Lazy Cape Town day, and life seemed to be good. We got to chatting: about life, work, the irony of it all, and as always conversation between two guys often (more than not) turns to women.
Now let me tell you: the quality of the ladies in Cape Town is high. To quote the famous line: "There is some Grade-A Pussy in this town."
Which person/book/film that line originated from, I do not know. (Maybe it wasn't from a person/book/movie. Maybe I just made it up.)
They range from all shapes and sizes: Tall to gargantuan, small to smurflike. Big and Busty or small and surfboard in shape and texture. Blonde and lovely, dark and sexy, red and fiery. The ladies are a big drawing card. (I would imagine.)
But the most interesting bit of this afternoon occurred as I paid out bill and got up to leave. She was getting ready to sit down just as I rose. I don't think anyone but me noticed it, but she was pretty slick in it's execution. As I stepped passed here, I spotted her slip the wedding band from her left hand into her bag, just before she sat down at the bar where I had just left.
A sarcastic grin stained my features as exited the bar. My colleague asked me what it was about and I explained. He just chuckled.
We didn't say much more about the topic, but it got me thinking as I lay in bed on that Shabbos.
Why would that lady do that?
Was she having a secret rendezvous with some mysterious guy?
Was she aiming to pick up some mysterious new guy?
Or was she just in search of some flirtatious conversation that she knew would be inhibited by the ring on her finger?
It's hard to say.
Had I stayed longer, I might have found out.
I suppose I can identify with her. (at least on the latter statement.)
Time and time again I will chat to some new girl I meet through work or through a friend and things start out well. We are chatty and having a good time, and through some way or another, they will get to the question after spotting the ring on my finger: "So where's your other half?" they would ask.
And it's like the shields come up and conversation becomes guarded and altogether boring.
Now, I was never intending to get laid, or cheat on anyone, but if I continue talking to this individual, it will certainly come across as exactly that. Won't it?
Is it just guilt that causes me to say this?
Am I wrong in associating with another strange woman?
My wife would probably say 'yes'.
Is she jealous or justified in that answer?
I suppose it depends which side of the fence you are on.
Married or unmarried.
It's a fucked up institution. And to those ladies on the married side of the fence, a statement like that would see my balls chopped and hung out to dry.
Except maybe that chick in the bar.
But if you are just talking to someone who interests you a bit too much, is it cheating?
Some days I come home and my wife is watching Oprah.
I don't care if you think the woman is a saint, she's a fucking man-hater. Every second day she will be on about men, and how bad they are to their girlfriends/wives, and how they continually cheat. She brings stats, and experts, and sad little houese wives onto the show who testify to this end, and we look like the worste species on the face of the plant.
She says shit like: "For G-d's sake, if penguins can have mates for life, why cant men!?!"
What the fuck.
That bitch has waaaaaay too much influence on the women of the world. I mean: She got Barak Obama to be president. One day she'll get him to pass a law to put the male species into suspended animation. They will then use us like male cattle, harvesting our sperm to produce the next generation of the human race. A bit like a twisted Feminist's wet-dream of the Matrix. Oh Neo, where for art thou...
You wait and see.
