The Writer

I met him months ago. It was a random encounter while I was still married. In fact I think my larger half was with me. We were out with some friends at a pub. The Journalist was there with his friends and in the way pubs are everyone was mingling and chatting. I got chatting with the Journo.

He’s younger than me, works in a field I’m interested in, had a girlfriend and reminded me of my larger half in many ways. But he wasn’t completely repellent. We parted ways at the end of the evening with a ‘see you around.’

And see him around I did, at pubs, clubs, concerts and even the movies. We always shot the breeze and if was alone (which I frequently was, even before my separation) he would buy me a drink or popcorn and have a chat.

Now, here’s the thing. This guy will only ever be a mate. During the course of my chats with him I have discovered that he has ‘issues’ and I don’t want, need or desire to make those any worse and I certainly don’t want to sleep with him (despite encouragement from mates) and then leave him. I don’t want to add to the hurt.

I think I may have issues myself; I care too much about feelings. Why can’t I do what a girlfriend of mine does, fuck ‘em and call ‘em a cab?

I think I may have work to do.

The Drummer

About three years ago I saw a band play in a restaurant. I was drawn to the skinny white guy playing the drums, not my usual type at all. This year this band has been playing in my home town a fair bit and generally getting about, and so I have seen them a lot. Well, because I’m at most of their concerts they have come to know me a little and nearly always acknowledge my presence.

I’ve brought them drinks and had conversations, but seeing as they are all outside my lower age limit I have never, and would never go there.

Last night I went out of my way to see them, travelling to another town, far away to partake of their particular brand of music. They were good as they always are and the audience (even if it was Very odd) seemed to want them to come back. Anyway, after I was chatting with the drummer about drum sticks and realised something. Although in the past I have been tongue-tied and star-struck when in his presence, I have grown to respect him on a level that is reserved for very few people.

He has a talent that extends beyond the band he was playing with last night. He has a solo effort that is highly successful and has won major awards. He works like a dog, touring around Aussie and various other countries with the band and solo, radio and magazine interviews, singing and drum playing, and yet he still has the time to shoot the breeze with fans.

He isn’t good looking, he’s skinny and getting skinnier (I think) because of his crazy schedule, he has an odd hair do, his teeth aren’t perfect but always seem to be revealed through his big wide mouth frog smile and generally he’s scruffy. But still I find him sexy, really really sexy, I get the lust flutters and sweaty palms, even when he’s playing and dripping with sweat.

But at the end of the concert that changes, my feeling change and I just want to hug him, take him home, wash his shirt and feed him a giant steak and chips and let him know I’m there for him. I hope his fiancé does that!