I finally confronted him about his addiction to veal. In my youth, I was something of an anti-vivisectionist and was--and still am--appalled at the way calves are mistreated before they are slaughtered. But he is so far gone with this that I knew if I brought up the matter with graphic detail, he wouldn't even hear me. So I at first approached the matter gently and with consideration but, as he is generally oblivious to the most obvious things, he barely heard me. He wouldn't acknowledge his addiction; instead, he claimed he is merely a "creature of habit" and that I am wrong about his obsession with veal parm as he is quite happy to venture beyond parm and into, for example, scallopini, piccata and marsala and "what the fuck is wrong with you, Dolores?"
What is wrong with me??? Last weekend, he again inveigled me into traveling with him to Bucks County to sate his appetite, and it is just too far for me. And it wasn't the first time. That long drive in his little car all the way up and back on the Turnpike exhausts me. Plus, along the way, I have to listen to the same old stories--always about himself--and by the time we arrive at the enormous generic Italian restaurant, all I want to do is drink....I have no appetite at all. I'm beginning to wonder if the only reason he calls me is so that he will have someone (could be anyone) to join him for dinner.
The restaurant in Bucks County is basically the same as the one in his neighborhood, although the names are different. The menus are enormous, wine is served in carafes (so you know it originates in jugs), the waiters are always a pain in the ass and, sigh, I spend each meal watching him vacuum the veal off his plate with his mouth. It's no wonder I get drunk each time.
But here's the thing....yes, I am revolted by the horrific veal extravaganza before me, but at some point before it's over--and this happens every time--I look at him and--I just can't help it...perhaps because or in spite of my insobriety, I just cannot wait to get him home and into bed.
God, I am so fucked.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Real (Veal Meal) Deal?
What a month! I met a man in town, who is considered rather controversial. Initially, I thought he was a maverick, and I was intrigued. Like me, he is a prolific e-mailer, and we often e-mail each other as much as 40-50 times a day. He is so funny...and we are both lovers of music and satire. We have been on many dates. Best part is that nothing about me seems to faze him. I think he may be the one....!
OK, yes, I admit there are some problems, some--as my BFF would say--"red flags" and, after the dreadful encounter with The Undertaker, I promised myself I would be more in tune to so-called "warning signs" in the future...but, since I know I am prone to over-reacting and possibly being a tad superficial about such things, I need to carefully evaluate the pros and cons of the current situation....
1. Humor. He is very, very funny. (And who doesn't need a good belly laugh now and then, eh?)
2. Bedroom. There are problems in the bedroom. During the day or days leading up to an encounter, he showers me with provocative e-mails about what he is going to do to me. Initially, I was taken aback by some of his comments (about, for example, how he could "last" as long as I wanted) and, frankly, somewhat skeptical. But nevertheless I go along with it every time...the feelings he stirs up in me, even by mere suggestion...mmmm....I get so worked up and anxious, sometimes unable to contain my desire. But when the moment arrives, he talks...and talks...and then talks some more (usually repetitive stories about himself ). But I'm polite, feign interest...and when I do finally get him upstairs, it always starts out well but ends up with him tiring...or worse...he, well, you know....(I don't want to be too graphic in case any children are reading this.) Undoubtedly, this is due to the fact that he drinks excessively before each encounter, sometimes an entire bottle of wine by himself. I recognize that this is what I used to do before I changed, and it seems so distasteful to me now. But you know what? With all the estrogen in me now, I find it's really nice just being together. I don't need sex every night. We can just watch t.v. I should probably tell him all this before it's too late....
3. Moods. His mood shifts unexpectedly and radically. Sweet and lovely and silly one moment, then paranoid and aggressive the next.
4. Nasal hair. Sprouts of dark hair often protrude from one or both nostrils. He is aware of this sometimes, but when he asks to borrow my nail scissors, I cringe....
5. Passive-aggressive. Oh, yes. Big time.
6. Hilarity! He is hilarious! Just thinking of him now makes me want him....
7. Addictions. He has addiction issues. He lately traded in some old ones for new ones, the newest being veal parm. Every evening meal is veal. If not the same neighborhood restaurant two nights in a row, then another will do (but only if absolutely necessary). And even as I sit across from him in the booth, trying to chat earnestly, trying to express my heartfelt needs and desires, he won't look up from his plate until he has inhaled every last bit of veal. Exhausted but satisfied after such frenetic consumption, he then sits back in the booth and folds his hands across his belly. It's lonely for me, and I lose my appetite each time.
8. Tears of joy. Did I mention he has the ability to make me laugh until I cry?
9. Idleness. He won't exercise with me. Once, he took me to the beach for the day. He wore a red bathing suit and red t-shirt which was way too tight for him. He looked like an aging Jersey tomato, but as I have intense feelings for him, I chose to overlook it. Plus,I knew we would be in a place where no one would know either of us. And also, I mean...let's face it...in my present condition, I have bathing suit issues of my own which, for some reason, don't seem to bother him at all. So he took me to the ocean but completely refused to go in the ocean. While I flopped around like a happy seal by the buoys, he remained on the sand, occasionally approaching the water's edge but would only venture in up to his ankles. I wonder if he can swim? Maybe he can't....
My friends say, "Dolores, we can't even imagine you standing next to this man." But he is funny and furry, and he likes me, I say. And besides, when he is "on" (not moody), I can say or do anything and feel free...he eats too much...and I can swear with impunity....he drinks too much...and he likes to go to movies...he dislikes small children and animals....and he makes me laugh...he invites me over but then wants me to leave...he accepts me as I am...he doesn't like my car....he is attentive and kind at night....he is distant and cold in the morning....he is so good and kind...except when he snaps at me for no apparent reason...oh, shit.
OK, yes, I admit there are some problems, some--as my BFF would say--"red flags" and, after the dreadful encounter with The Undertaker, I promised myself I would be more in tune to so-called "warning signs" in the future...but, since I know I am prone to over-reacting and possibly being a tad superficial about such things, I need to carefully evaluate the pros and cons of the current situation....
1. Humor. He is very, very funny. (And who doesn't need a good belly laugh now and then, eh?)
2. Bedroom. There are problems in the bedroom. During the day or days leading up to an encounter, he showers me with provocative e-mails about what he is going to do to me. Initially, I was taken aback by some of his comments (about, for example, how he could "last" as long as I wanted) and, frankly, somewhat skeptical. But nevertheless I go along with it every time...the feelings he stirs up in me, even by mere suggestion...mmmm....I get so worked up and anxious, sometimes unable to contain my desire. But when the moment arrives, he talks...and talks...and then talks some more (usually repetitive stories about himself ). But I'm polite, feign interest...and when I do finally get him upstairs, it always starts out well but ends up with him tiring...or worse...he, well, you know....(I don't want to be too graphic in case any children are reading this.) Undoubtedly, this is due to the fact that he drinks excessively before each encounter, sometimes an entire bottle of wine by himself. I recognize that this is what I used to do before I changed, and it seems so distasteful to me now. But you know what? With all the estrogen in me now, I find it's really nice just being together. I don't need sex every night. We can just watch t.v. I should probably tell him all this before it's too late....
3. Moods. His mood shifts unexpectedly and radically. Sweet and lovely and silly one moment, then paranoid and aggressive the next.
4. Nasal hair. Sprouts of dark hair often protrude from one or both nostrils. He is aware of this sometimes, but when he asks to borrow my nail scissors, I cringe....
5. Passive-aggressive. Oh, yes. Big time.
6. Hilarity! He is hilarious! Just thinking of him now makes me want him....
7. Addictions. He has addiction issues. He lately traded in some old ones for new ones, the newest being veal parm. Every evening meal is veal. If not the same neighborhood restaurant two nights in a row, then another will do (but only if absolutely necessary). And even as I sit across from him in the booth, trying to chat earnestly, trying to express my heartfelt needs and desires, he won't look up from his plate until he has inhaled every last bit of veal. Exhausted but satisfied after such frenetic consumption, he then sits back in the booth and folds his hands across his belly. It's lonely for me, and I lose my appetite each time.
8. Tears of joy. Did I mention he has the ability to make me laugh until I cry?
9. Idleness. He won't exercise with me. Once, he took me to the beach for the day. He wore a red bathing suit and red t-shirt which was way too tight for him. He looked like an aging Jersey tomato, but as I have intense feelings for him, I chose to overlook it. Plus,I knew we would be in a place where no one would know either of us. And also, I mean...let's face it...in my present condition, I have bathing suit issues of my own which, for some reason, don't seem to bother him at all. So he took me to the ocean but completely refused to go in the ocean. While I flopped around like a happy seal by the buoys, he remained on the sand, occasionally approaching the water's edge but would only venture in up to his ankles. I wonder if he can swim? Maybe he can't....
My friends say, "Dolores, we can't even imagine you standing next to this man." But he is funny and furry, and he likes me, I say. And besides, when he is "on" (not moody), I can say or do anything and feel free...he eats too much...and I can swear with impunity....he drinks too much...and he likes to go to movies...he dislikes small children and animals....and he makes me laugh...he invites me over but then wants me to leave...he accepts me as I am...he doesn't like my car....he is attentive and kind at night....he is distant and cold in the morning....he is so good and kind...except when he snaps at me for no apparent reason...oh, shit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
