November 20, 2009

SAM SHARPE

I have a small travel case underneath my mattress filled with detritus, leftovers; it is a veritable lost and found. This case is where I store all the items that women leave or conveniently “forget” after spending an evening with me. Currently in my possession are two pairs of earrings, a hairclip, a bandanna, underwear (aka panties), a camisole, eyeliner, a tube of lipstick and lip balm. Oh, and there’s also a stash of what I call “girl stuff”.

For a single man, I think that’s a pretty interesting haul, and I’m sure you all are wondering why I hang on to this stuff. Truth is, I intend to get rid of most of this crap but just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Besides, a few of the items belong to women who still regularly visit 100 Sam Sharpe Avenue.

Lynn was here not too long ago. She’s the one who left the “girl stuff”. I know that the rules of the game indicate that a man should only allow “girl stuff” on his premises if he’s caught a serious case of monogamy, but I don’t make a fuss. I’m very clear with women I meet about where I stand (i.e. Firmly outside the box that is the modern day committed, monogamous relationship. Yes ladies, I put the “SHUN” in Re-la-SHUN-ship). Some women don’t accept my stance and quickly move on. But many more respond by telling me, “Cool, that’s what I want too.”

Now, although I realize the women in the “it’s cool” camp are lying to themselves, I don’t feel that it’s my responsibility to disabuse them of this notion. If they are misguided enough to believe that by slowly leaving more and more of their accoutrements at my place they will eventually ‘dupe’ me into being their boyfriend, what could I possibly say or do to change their mind? And who am I to rain on their parade? Plus any attempt to set them straight would lead to a “Where things are going?” conversation, which leads directly to the one place I’m trying to avoid at all costs – the no sex zone.

I don’t see Sandy anymore for this very reason. Sandy and I met through mutual friends. She had just broken up with an ex and was looking for something casual. Since I fit the description, Sandy decided that I would become the fuck buddy she needed to get over her failed relationship.

Sandy happened to work less than a five-minute walk from where I lived. As a result, we got into the habit of hooking up before and or after work. Against my better judgment, this led to her sleeping over; which (of course) led to her leaving a few items of clothing and a toothbrush.

Many visits and several steamy sleepovers later, Sandy came over for a little fun. After we took care of the important stuff, Sandy went to the bathroom to wash up before bed. What I didn’t remember is that I’d taken her toothbrush out of my toothbrush holder. This led to an argument. Sandy came storming out of my bathroom like a deranged panhandler wanting to know why I moved her things. “Who else have you been fucking?” she shouted, “I’m not some trick you can just use and abuse!”

Just so you know dear friends, I had simply moved her toothbrush into my medicine cabinet – I hadn’t been fucking anyone else. I also knew Sandy wasn’t a cheap trick, but her hysterical ranting that night she sure as hell made her sound like one. It wasn’t until she ended her tirade and a heavy cloud of silence filled the room that she recognized her error. She apologized profusely, but it was too late – the damage had already been done. We both knew that she wasn’t equipped to do the casual sex thing and that when she left my apartment the next morning it’d be ‘Sayonara, Sandy’.

This brings us back to my travel case and Lynn. She showed up at my place one night and after a bit of small talk about her day and an invitation to her friend’s house party (which I declined) she said—“My period might be coming, so I brought a few things with me”. Initially I was irked (I mean, who shows up at their fuck buddy’s house when they are in danger of asking Moses to part their Red Sea…You don’t do that unless you are in a Re-la-TION-ship), but I let it slide.

The next morning, long after Lynn left I noticed that her stash of “girl stuff” was on my night table. Though I knew that this seemingly innocuous collection of “girl stuff” was really an early warning sign that she was ‘catching feelings’ or wanting to transition our arrangement into something it was never going to be, I didn’t stress it. I just picked up her “girl stuff” and put it in my case. It won’t be seen again until I know Lynn is coming over. On that occasion it will magically reappear on my night table, right where she left it.

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