Knowing the neighbor

Last August I moved from my old appartment complex to a place which was closer to my university. A cool appartment complex that is famous because of the big parties that people throw there. My flat mates and I were very exited about our new appartment , so in order to keep the traditions of the place alive we decided to make a big party. We got a nice dj ( which didn’t charged us) and even promotions drinks for free for everyone.

The party was a big sucess and everyone was having a great time, but for some strange reason I wasn’t really having lots of fun. Maybe the tequila or just the warm weather was making me anxious. I wanted something to happen, more that the all-time girls or drunk friends, some nice reason to leave my red cup and jump into the game.

So there she was, wearing a beutiful black dress, looking unimpressed to the words of the losers trying to get her attention. Her indifference to the world around her made her big blue eyes sexier while she crushed the chances of the 2 guys talking to her. With an smooth cruelty she made her way in between the tons of people that filled the main hall into my appartment.

Who is this dangerous looking blonde? What are you waiting for? I asked to myself while I saw her walking across the room. I standed up leaving the sofa, there were no excused to stand back
( like I ever did) . So like a wolf hunting his prey, I approached. I wasn’t me anymore, suddenly I became a james bond alike character; Conffident, clever ,and misterious.

I made my move, the words came to me in a magical way like long time ago used to. I was back in the game one more time.

We dance. She smiles. I look at her eyes. We kiss. She is german. I love her hair over my face when the wind blows. She lives next door. I keep her photo. She likes R&B. I cook for her. She likes to have sex with the lights on. I like her smell. She gives me a Lou Reed CD.

Saint Valentine’s kiss

Normally I don’t give a shit about Saint Valentine’s day. Maybe because the last 3 years I was single in that month or because I am no the kind of guy who likes to really care about a consumerist day or , like most of the people who doesn’t like the 14th February, because I feel envious to the people who are felt in love enough to buy some shit to their date.
Anyway, when I arrived home that day, a friend of mine called me. He invited me to this “Forever Alone’s Party” where only single people were allowed to get in. Being sceptically minded, I imagined that the worst case scenario would be a bunch of males getting drunk complaining about how women don’t like them or leave them hanging in the friendzone; which for a day like this was just perfect.

We bought some booze and went to the according place, which for our luck turned to be a big surprise. Beautiful girls all the way around,all single,  and not many guys to compete with. We had lots of fun; many drinking games, a couple of phone numbers and a weird satisfaction that we were actually enjoying  Saint Valentine’s . Sometimes things just go all the way around don’t you think?

It was really late, everyone was drunk , and I wasn’t just ready to go home, I just had the feeling that something cool will gonna happen. I was on my way home, when I saw her. She was standing next the door, waiting for her friend to stopping making out with a guy in order to leave. Her black hair waving with the night wind, while her eyes were lost in the place looking for something to get into . Slowly, I approached making my move, talking about random facts while I held my red cup.  She was crazy, pretty and after some talking she didnt’ stop smiling.

I took her to her car, didn’t tried nothing like always I do :The moment was just perfect that way.

- You like comics?  -  She asked.
- Aye, don’t think I’m a total nerd.-I said
- Would you be like Spiderman maybe? – She put her arms around me.
- Are you like Mary Jane? – I said while staring at her red lips.
- Not exactly, maybe more like Felicia.Cool and mysterious – She kissed me.

I fucking love Saint Valentine’s…..

A cry in the middle of the night.

It was the second week of November and the weather was starting to keep away those skirts and dresses we guys love, which in fact is the greatest signal of Winter, and I was planing to go out and get a little bit drunk after I finished a nasty project.

So we went to a party in the roof of a very classy apartment building. Lots of people, free drinks and shitty House and Lounge music all the way around. I wasn’t really in the mood of hitting on someone or doing anything else but drinking; guess I was kind of tired/sad.  The night went on and the weather started to get colder and my ears began to freeze, there for I went over the barman and picked up lots of Vodka.

These kind of parties normally aren’t good, but because there is a lot of people, they are the perfect place for meeting bored to death girls who want to get crazy and I knew that, but my mind was somewhere else, that’s why I couldn’t withstand a pointless conversation with any girl.

After about 2 hours of drinking and meaningless conversations with my friend Davide and the girls he picked up, I decided to go home, the Bloody Maries and Sex on the Beach couldn’t hold me there anymore.

When I was going downstairs to pick a cab, down in the street was this French girl who used to live in my apartment complex. I saw her in the party doing weird dances, as always she did; she was french. She was sitting there crying under the street light wearing a beautiful dress, probably Zara’s, with her hands in her face so I could only see her messy blond hair. After a whole minute I watched that scene, drops began to fall slowly, so I approached her  and told her in a gently tone : - Marinne, you should go home, the rain will probably get stronger. You can come with me if you don’t want to go on your own. – She raised her face to me and gave me a little smile. Between all the crying, she still looked beautiful and I was just there looking her like an idiot until a cab arrived and we went home.

All the way home, she didn’t spoke a word to me and I didn’t knew how to make her feel better, since we didn’t really knew each other besides the elevator or the grocery store. I wondered why she was crying, probably her ex , which was a weird hipster who I saw her speaking french in the parking lot. I really didn’t gave a shit about anything what was going on with her, but I didn’t wanted to make her feel more uncomfortable. We arrived and I accompanied her to her door, once we where there she looked at me and hugged me for no reason and thanked me. She took out her keys and before opening the door she said to me: – I wished some people could be nicer in the world.- After one minutes of silence, I replied – There is nice people everywhere, you just need to find them More silence followed my words, but she never closed the door neither stopped looking at me.

In order to break that awkward moment, I walked closer to her and she did the same and in a moment we began kissing in a madly way. The situation never made sense and I can’t explain how we came to the idea of making out, but the clothes began to fall to the ground all around her place while we reached her bed. It was a great night after all and she made me some nice crepes for breakfast. We never spoke about it, the true is that we rarely changed words, still she came 2 times in the middle of the night to my place  after that night and the process was exactly the same. Week later she went to France for Christmas and I never saw her again. I never figured out what happened that day we took the cab, but I prefer to keep it that way so that nights we spend together remained mysterious.

Surviving to hornyness

Being Horny: That horrible disease that hunts every single men (oh and women too I’m sure) since their teenager hormones power up to an indeterminate amount of time when you will need the blue pill for random amounts of time in random places. It’s symptoms vary depending on its intensity or the type of person you are; some guys never get horny, others ,like me , tend to be all the time thinking on sex despite their rational senses. Combining it with alcohol,will surely turn into a party-story which your friends make fun off or will admire you, the first one happens more frequently. There aren’t a lot of thinks to do about it aside of getting laid or playing with yourself (which is just a temporal solution to it).

I don’t normally care about being horny, everyone learns to live with it, but they are certain situations which turn horrible if you are indirectly obsessed with sex and I don’t talk about getting boners in public situations, which is a nightmare for sure, rather about the mental frustration that crush your judge of faithfulness when you are getting a relationship, a marriage or any other sentimental affair. When you are alone, it is not a big deal admiring women curves hide in their clothes while they walk and how slowly they change of position in a beautiful movement of their hips, admiring that fraction of time when the air moves their hairs in a perfect direction so that you can see their cheeks slowly rise while they smile or just scent their feminine bloom disappear while they cross you in the middle of the hallway… argh! How I love those moments!

Normally when trying turning serious with someone , I force myself to avoid playing the stud guy which turns to a big battle with my wild instinct of getting laid. For 2 or 3 weeks isn’t a big deal, but after that it becomes a constant frustration in my normal life which normally results on failing my goal. (Which isn’t really a big deal if they don’t find out, but I have a terrible luck in those situations and the moral weight it charges).

I was  getting serious with a girl I dated, but one day I went over a girl in a party which later on, when I started this relationship, turned to be her best friend. (Awkward Moments Awards for sure)

Maybe that’s why I try to know them enough in a month or so and avoid those  stupid situations without any kind of worries, because of that I always try dating them ones in a week and talk frequently in order to speed up the process (which  is a little hard, but I made myself out enough times with this strategy). If there is sex or constant making out  between,  all of this isn’t necessary, ’cause the carnal needs are satisfied and you aren’t a horny monster all the time.It’s a shame that most of the girls aren’t like that around my country.  Hope there isn’t the same for you guys!

I shouldn’t really think a lot about this subject, when you are ..  really into someone isn’t a problem. For the other side, knowing someone enough to begin a relationship  is a long process and jerks like me are usually hasty.

Oh!!, those are nice legs girl with the blue skirt in the front desk..

So…  What you do to handle this?

Ravers, Snow and Candies.

Raves, those crazy all night long parties in the middle of nowhere where electronic music, alcohol, drugs and casual sex coexist in a perfect atmosphere. Ti’ll dawn, people wearing dark glasses in the dark search for fun between those extasis and LSD dealers; the perfect place to get laid without making absolutely nothing too complicated.

A couple of years ago, the rave scene (along with the crappy psycho music ew! was the mayor hit in my hometown. The small town with no more than 2 or 3 clubs along with the little care of the local police turned in the perfect place for those holes of carnal sins for the catholic community. My group of friends and me hit the road constantly those events in order to satisfy or casual teenager needs: Beer, pot and girls. So there I was with my red glass, crazy t-shirt and stupid glasses chasing a girl to make out  with cigarette flavored kisses and nice legs. There wasn’t a need for any kind of play neither complex pick up lines.

The only think you need there is:

1.  Talk about how much fun are you having together.
2. How much do you love the music or which you like the most.
3. Bragging about your friend who is a promoter, dj or any kind of related title to the scene. It goes better if you show yourself as an amateur DJ.
4. Share your joints, beers or any kind of drug in your pockets.

It wasn’t much of a challenge dealing with the empty topics, crazy lights and weird dances; the only real challenge was to stay awake all night or evading  getting too high or drunk. For the moment, we were happy and the feeling of satisfaction reached a nice altitude. Getting girls in the tend or the car, looking at the sunrise wearing those Ray-Ban Wayfarer glasses, making fun of your passed out friends and all the other classic stupidity that happens deep in the night keep us distracted of the fact we were turning old.

Shame on myself when I took the idea that dating people outside the rave will be cool. Those where, no doubt, the worst dates I had in my whole life; No nice rides, not deep talks or any kind of intellectual entertainment. There was me, praying for some sleep waiting to get laid with girls in a lot of hash or coke calling their dealers desperately. Sure they were hot, nevertheless they were just air-headed vessels with a lot of ravealicious feelings that will never enjoy a nice cup of coffe.  I started to get bored and at some point I passed out because of my lack of sleep with a perfect timing in the pre-sex time a lot of times. Realizing the need of classic dates in order to satisfy the interesting part of me (I think enjoy more fucking a girl with a little bit of intelligence, because the challenge she represents) . I started forcing the situations into more complex dates which turned into a horrible mistake.

I took this brunette to a nice restaurant, where she passed out in the table because of the post-extasis state (which I never knew she was on it the whole day) .. figure the rest…

Guess I broke a classic rave rule or I was the foolish guy on the scene. Don’t take the fun out.

Never date drug whores, no matter how desperate you are. 

How we are sometimes

One night hanging  out with my friends a couple of years ago, I met a really nice good-looking blonde wearing a shirt from The Clash. Obviously, I made my move about music and how much I loved UK old punk ( which at a certain point I do). We start to making out and the next week I had a big mohawk along with my Never mind the Bollocks T-Shirt. Blondes…. fuck. I’m an idiot.

Lauren: What does that me…

Lauren: What does that mean know me, know me, nobody ever knows anybody else, ever! You will never know me.

- The Rules of Attraction, Bret Easton Ellis.