The grass, she is always greener
Les and I stop by a bar on our way home from Anya’s birthday party because, hey, it’s a Tuesday night and it’s still relatively early for insomniacs. There aren’t many people at the bar, just a few stragglers; not much people-watching fodder save for two hot-ass Asian chicks, the whale tails of their little thongs peeking out above the backs of their jeans. When I eventually step outside for a smoke I see that their boyfriends are having what appears to be a Very Serious conference about a Very Serious subject.
“I think I may be getting bored with her,” one says.
“You’re not gonna dump her, are you?” responds the other one.
“I dunno.”
The scene reminds me of an aphorism from male folklore, one of those nuggets of wisdom that has passed from barstool to barstool since at least the time of Shakespeare: No matter how hot she is, the saying goes, some guy is tired of putting up with her shit.
I chuckled to myself since moments ago I’d been undressing his girlfriend with my eyes. The two gentlemen look in my direction so I lie about the source of my amusement. “I was just thinking it’s funny how I’d much rather be unhappy than bored; at least unhappy is interesting.”
“You’ve got that right,” says the bored one before heading inside. His friend stays put.
“The truth is I’m a little bored of my girlfriend too,” he confides, checking his cell phone for a text message and then stuffing it back in his trouser pocket.
“You two living together?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s harder than you thought it would be, right?”
“Hell yeah. I feel guilty because she moved here to be with me and now I just… don’t know.” The soft-spoken guy seems genuinely torn up over his dilemma.
“Cohabitation changes everything. When you’re not living together, no matter how often you see each other it’s still like a date. Then you move in together and neither of you are on your best behavior anymore and, let’s face it, given the size of the average New York apartment you’re practically on top of each other.”
“How long have you been with your girl?”
“Fourteen years.”
He laughed. “Fourteen years? Holy shit! That’s what I want some day.”
“I sorta lucked out when I was very young. It can’t be exciting all the fucking time though; you need to figure out whether you’re really bored with her or you’re just getting that itch, you know? Because everyone feels that itch from time to time. Scratching it raw won’t get you anywhere.”
The guy’s friend returns with the two girls in tow. I find myself wondering whether the feeling is mutual—whether these babes are already way ahead of their boyfriends. Perhaps each one is already plotting her escape; perhaps each has suitors lined up around the block. Who knows? And in the end I guess I don’t give a damn, because when I step inside my beautiful woman is sitting on her barstool waiting for me. I can’t help but grin from ear to ear.
More: Dating
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Andrew | Jun 13, 09:56 AM | #
PERFECT timing. I just moved in with my girlfriend and was getting a bit antsy about it.
Matt | Jun 13, 02:44 PM | #
I believe the saying goes:
“Show me a beautiful woman and I’ll show you a guy who is tired of fucking her.”