Justin and I gave the Blue Rock floating bar a go yesterday afternoon. It’s anchored off Baloy Beach and is similar to the Arizona floater but without all the bargirl drink pressure. I like that!
The view of Justin 
The view of the bay
There’s one more floating bar yet to visit, Kokomo’s, also on Baloy Beach. Maybe tomorrow.
After the floating bar, Justin went off to play Trivia at Alley Cats bar and I headed over to Cheap Charlies for some brews. A nice gal named Andi kept me company. First time we’ve chatted but my regular gal Maya did not appear to be working. Andi was a fine substitute. 34 years old and three kids, the youngest being only 1. Deal breaker for me.
Honestly speaking, being a bargirl is a deal breaker for me. I’m not talking about the prostitutes, Cheap Charlies like Alley Cats does not feature “take out”. The girls work for drinks only. But when I dropped into Alley Cats after trivia I sort of had my eyes opened to the fact that I don’t want a girlfriend who makes a living being friendly to random guys. Yeah, I know that’s hypocritical because I too partake in companionship for the price of a drink. But it just feels different somehow to observe it.
Last night I popped into Alley Cats to finish my night. I brought along some take out food for the girls. Marissa was with a customer when I arrived so I sat as far away as possible and tried to ignore her. When her customer left, she came over to join me and partake in the food. And then another customer came in and she was up and gone. I paid my tab and left.
Okay, I have professed here that Marissa is just a friend. So why would that bother me? I know it is her job, but somehow it just made me feel like I’m worth less than the price of a drink to her. A good reminder of why I shouldn’t allow myself to get emotionally involved with a drink whore.
Anyway, I’m not going to let it get me down. It’s the fucking holiday season after all. Yesterday I got videoed into the Christmas luncheon gathering of my former team.
I sometimes miss being the “boss man”.
I walk my Buddy every morning and for some reason I decided to take a picture of all the street signs in my neighborhood. I don’t know why, but I think that most of them being named after American national parks is kind of interesting. Anyway, here they are:
Now, wasn’t that fun?
And the sign says, “Long-haired freaky people need not apply.”
So I tucked all my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why.
He said “You look like a fine, upstanding young man – I think you’ll do.”
So I took off my hat and said, “Imagine that! Huh… me, working for you!” Woah-oh-oh.
Signs, Signs, Everywhere there’s signs.
Blocking out the scenery. Breaking my mind.
Do this! Don’t do that! Can’t you read the signs?
And the sign says, “Anybody caught trespassing will be shot on sight”
So I jumped on fence and I yelled at the house,
“Hey! What gives you the right… To put up a fence to keep me out,
“Or to keep Mother Nature in?
“If God was here, He’d tell it to your face. ‘Man, you’re some kind of sinner.'”
Signs, Signs, Everywhere there’s signs.
Blocking out the scenery. Breaking my mind.
Do this! Don’t do that! Can’t you read the signs?
“Oh, say now mister, can’t you read?
“You got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat.
“You can’t even watch, no, you can’t eat. You ain’t supposed to be here!”
And the sign says, “You gotta have a membership card to get inside.” Hooh!
And the sign says “Everybody’s welcome to come in and kneel down and pray.”
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn’t have a penny to pay.
So I got me a pen and paper and I made up my own little sign.
I said, “Thank you Lord for thinking about me. I’m alive and doing fine.”
You’ve described Marissa, in earlier posts, as a “friend with benefits.” I’ve long been suspicious of such a category of friendship. Back in college, I knew a guy who was “kissing friends” with a beautiful young lady, and even then, I suspected that there was no way you could be in a kissing relationship while still being “just friends.” You have to be pretty emotionally cold to try to have it both ways like that, i.e., being sexually available while also behaving in an “I could take it or leave it” manner. I don’t know… maybe I’m too emotionally undeveloped, and I simply haven’t come to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But I just don’t see how sex and friendship mix, and I get the feeling—given how often your blog posts return to the topic of Marissa (even if only briefly)—that she’s not “just a friend” to you, and that there are still un-worked-out issues regarding her. Again, I have no idea whether I’m just blowing smoke, here. I’m coming at this from the prudish perspective that sex introduces a great deal of rawness and chaotic emotion and mind-altering hormones that can’t be easily boxed into a “friends with benefits” label. Frankly, I find the concept impossible.
Well, you make some valid points Kevin. I wouldn’t go so far as to say FWB relationships are impossible, but I have to acknowledge it’s a slippery slope. My reaction last night illustrates that I do have more of an emotional investment than I intended. I’m probably going to need to back away from her, but that’s proven to be easier said than done.
As always, I appreciate your insights which have given me some food for thought.