I’m excited about working on Monday night.
I work in a strip club; feel free to join in a rousing chorus of ‘what the actual fuck?’ now.
Notoriously the deadliest day of the week.
Of course there is a catch.
Freudian slip. To catch implies I am chasing something. Not a catch, a crush.
I have a tiny crush on the Monday DJ.
He is handsome, talented, spiritual, feeds me nachos and indulges my new obsession with the Biebs.
I mentioned it to my best girl, who knows us both.
Me: …also, I now have a crush on (your) DJ and I don’t want it
Her: He has a girlfriend that he loves
Me: I know. I said I don’t want it
Her: Are you seeing anyone lately?
Me: Just Khal Drogo, everyone else fell away and I just decided to let them.
Her: Have you done Tindr before?
Me: No. I don’t want to add anyone
Her: You just want to crush on your co-worker that has a girlfriend? Why don’t you find an available guy to crush on?
Me: I have said three times I don’t want it
Her: You don’t want what?
Me: I don’t want your DJ. I saw Drogo last week and I really like him. We talked through everything. And everyone else has fallen away. I even saw the rock star and…nothing.
Her: Is he calling/messaging every day?
Me: 3 times a week. Talking to him right now
Her: Enough to keep you around. Ditch that guy, he’s not someone you can be serious about.
Pump the brakes.
Actually stop the car and let me out, or at least slow down so I can tuck and roll. I don’t like where this is going at all.
- If I described my Drogo OR her DJ to a police sketch artist…they would both look like the guy that plays Khal Drogo. They aren’t twins, but on paper the same adjectives apply. Tall, dark, handsome, beardy, tattooed, and extra-large. If someone transcribed the conversations we have had, I would be able to tell them apart, but no one else would. So I am obviously just projecting/protecting myself.
(Later in the conversation)…
Me: …and for the record I know you like his woman and their relationship. I am not that fucking girl by any stretch. I can crush and keep my legs and mouth shut about it.
It hurt my feelings that she thought I would actively pursue a crush on someone who I know to be in a relationship. Um, Sisterwife ring any bells? I would never fucking ever be that girl.
Also, and I am howling now. The words “actively pursue”.
- On what planet do I have any control over any of this? I can only control my actions not my feelings, they do what they do and I let them.
I am right in the middle of a righteous crush on Drogo already.
I have no idea what to do about it…do I have to do a thing?
Seriously…what the fuck do I do?
I haven’t the slightest clue how to girlfriend anymore. Which begs the question did I ever?
Do I make him sammiches?
Totally down for that. Except he cooks for me, and I like that.
Do we change things in real life?
I like what I have going. I like my tiny house, my schedule. Currently I am drowning in terrifyingly large sweats, listening to Justin Bieber and writing this, that and like 4 more things. I have ink on my face from scribbling on my hand in the car then holding my head up. Raccoon eyes. Surrounded by scraps of paper, incense burning on my 5th cigarette and 2nd coffee. I like this, I am comfortable and happy. This is who I am and this is what I do.
Can I be loved as is? I love me so that’s a good start.
Do we change things on Facebook?
I just got a fight or flight bolt of adrenalin. Made me queasy. That is bringing back bad flashbacks of Sisterwife/marriage. I used to have to check my relationship status to see where my husband was…with her or with me*. That was the last actual relationship I was in. I think I am damaged. It took me 7 years to stop playing. I took my ball and went home.
- I found myself here, in this little house, alone. Love it here. Biebs and all.
Best girl said “Boyfriend material messages every day.”
3 times a day. Who makes these rules? What about what I want? I have a child, 2 jobs and an all-consuming hobby that brings me joy and really requires solitude/alone time. As does Drogo.
I don’t have time for that. 3 times a week is ample. Thanks.
Speaking of, as I write this…Maybe it’s not a crush, crushes traditionally hurt.
I dislike when people say shit like “I’m never drinking again” or “No more carbs forever”. You’re setting yourself up to fail.
On that note, I’m not saying ‘no more young un’s forever’…but for the last two weeks, I don’t know where any of them are, and I am not bothered to look.
I am afraid of my feelings for Drogo. I know this. They are beyond my control.
I think that is why I was haunted by Gelfling too. One last bolt for the door.
I truly believe my (not)crush on the DJ is a misguided attempt at self-preservation.
Me: it’s a calm crush. It will pass
Her: Or escalate
Me: It will pass. I won’t let it grow.
Which brings us full circle.
I wish I knew how to escalate, not DJ, Drogo.
Vagina is already on lockdown. I have no say in the matter. It’s not like I haven’t tried to talk her out of this, at great length, even plied her with whiskey and the answer a resounding “I want that one”.
Ya, the DJ is hot, but might as well be a eunuch. Like I said, it’s not like that.
My entire stable gelded in one night. Amazing.
Heart has always wanted what she wants. Can’t be helped.
Ego is still not on board. Feels unworthy.
I don’t know if he wants me, I am scared to ask.
Truth is, I don’t want to sleep with anyone but Drogo.
While I sort through this and try to remember/learn how to move forward, I have his doppelganger holding my hand, giving advice and bending my ear once a week.
None of it is ‘torture’, I know torture* and this isn’t it.
I just like working Monday’s now.
“see I gave you faith, turned your doubt into hopin’. ” Biebs