Another Brick in the Wall

Somewhere along the line it stopped being fun.

Three nights ago, I went to my usual techie meetup. My boss was talking about some work stuff, and I wanted to represent. One of our potential clients was in town visiting, and bossman invited him to come hear the talk.

Halfway through the panel discussion, Potential Client starts being disruptive, asking questions, speaking louder than he should. I figured he was just doing the traditional LA douchebaggery -- the grown up class clown who needs attention so he talks too loud and distracts from matters at hand to draw focus to himself - and ruins the experience for everyone else.

So partially as an act of martyrdom, and partially because I wanted to entertain Potential Client, I noticed his glass was empty and asked him to join me at the bar. Outside. So I could "answer his question."

Now: I'd be lying if I said he wasn't attractive. He was hott, straight up. So hot it needed an extra 't.' But again: he's from LA, he's not wearing an undershirt, he's got that misbehaving twinkle in his eye. He must be a douchebag.

So I humor him. For the next two hours and three more drinks.

At that point, we close the bar, call a cab, and head uptown for dinner. After dinner, we catch a cab back to my house, and he gets fresh in the cab, and... well, you know the rest. He's well put together and pretty good in bed - if a little aggressive. Forward was a good word.

It was fun that night, and he clearly liked me, and he was interesting to an extent - recently divorced, running a relatively successful company. That made him cocky, which I just love. And love to undermine. He liked me. He confessed over dinner that half of the reason he had come that evening was because he had seen me in the office and hoped I'd be there.

So he could fuck me. Unfortunately, it was more lascivious than romantic.

We slept for two hours and I was horrifically hungover the next day and my day in the office was a disaster. And work has been incredibly stressful, if only because I'm letting it get to me -- but around 9:30 that morning I thought of what a horrible decision it had been.

Potential Client said, as he was putting his clothes back on in the morning, "Please don't tell Bossman. This is so unprofessional. I have to stop drinking." I found it amusing he was worrying about his own reputation, when I was the one with a clear conflict. I don't know whether I would be fired or congratulated if my work found out. I suppose it all depends on if we land the client.


But what frustrates me the most? It's not that thrilling anymore. I've had these one night affairs enough times now that it's no longer exciting. It's like scratching an itch, more than anything. What I want is for him to actually *like* me. I want him to want to see me again. And while he did say, also as he was leaving, "I'm sure I'll see you again," I'm doubtful. And while he accepted my offer to come visit for Jazz Fest, I'm doubtful.

Have I grown so pessimistic that I assume that all men lie so to get in my pants? Do I now always presume the worst? Or is it easier to believe he's actually still married, instead of just a guy who might have potential if he didn't live in another time zone? Is it better to have been used than to be disappointed?