What Happened?

I am still trying to figure out what happened. How did I go from not that guy/that guy/not that guy/dating someone/engaged/not engaged to pre-engaged? Exactly what the hell is pre-engaged? I may never figure out the answers to these two questions. I may not want to know the answer to either of these questions.

I would love to claim innocent bystander status in all of this but it all started with an innocent haircut. I wanted to look good before I hit the strip clubs in Charlotte for a weekend of innocent guy's fun. Maybe I should start a blog called "The Innocent Guy." I have always worn innocence well. Throw in an attractive hair stylist, a discussion of my Longfellow, a little bit of "nookie", and I am a short step away from being on Dr. Phil.

Hanging On

Wanting to be That Guy and being That Guy are two totally different things. I hang on to relationships of any kind much longer than I probably should. I do not deal with loss well. At some point and time, these relationships meant a lot to me. I eventually forgive but I never forget. I believe that is where I am making my mistake. The Chinese philosopher Confucius said "To be wronged is nothing unless you continue to remember it." In remembering how I have been wronged just keeps bringing back the pain. The how and the when are not really that important in the greater scheme of things.

Will I ever be able to trust them again? I don't know. I do believe trust can be earned back. It all begins with owning your mistake. Saying the right things is good but being the right things is the best option. Do they have the ability and the desire to be what I need them to be? That is up to them.

A Text Message Faux Pas

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and I sent out several texts yesterday wishing some of the women I have dated in the past to have a Happy Thanksgiving and to enjoy the time with their families. I decided to be the better guy (I did notice that none of them thought of me first) mainly because I didn't think that "I hope you get a turkey leg stuck up your ass" would be something you would see on a Hallmark card.

I did receive one message from a girl that I dated almost four years ago wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving and I thought it was a very sweet gesture and very thoughtful. The one thing I failed to notice was that it was a group text message and she had sent it to all of her friends.

This girl and I had shared a very romantic walk through downtown Asheville right before Christmas of 2010. There was a light snow falling, it was very chilly, Christmas was in the air, and we just walked around and marveled at all of the sights and sounds. When she sent me that text, I immediately thought of that day. I sent her a well thought out message reminding her of that day and that although things did not work out between us, I still really enjoyed our time together.

I did not know I had sent the text message to everyone on her group list so I spent the next four hours receiving angry messages and phone calls from her husband and boyfriends and husbands of her friends wanting to know who the hell I was and wanting to shove a turkey leg up my ass (Couldn't they just buy me a card?). I guess I got to be "That Guy" just by sending a text message. Who knew it would be that easy?

Coming Back For More

When word quickly spread of mine and my last girlfriend's breakup, some of my old girlfriend's started falling out of the woodwork. They were calling me, sending me text messages, sending me nude pics of themselves, and offering themselves up as sacrificial virgins although all of them were far from that.

I could not even begin to explain my sudden "popularity". Maybe they decided I wasn't the dumbass they thought I was, being a "nice guy" wasn't such a bad thing, or maybe the dating pool at our age is much shallower than they thought. Whatever the reason, I believe that sex was at the top of the list. I believe that they all thought they might be in line for some rebound sex.

That is one of the good things about trying to be "that guy" is that I do have what I like to call "the right of first refusal." I turned them all down. I would not have had to "work" for any of that and where is the challenge in going out with old girlfriends. The sex was usually pretty good (although some were not half as good as they liked to think they were especially when I was doing almost all of the work). I need something more fulfilling than "been there had that" so I need to dust off my "skills" and get back in the game.

A Gorilla In The Mist

I have often read that when an author kills off one of his recurring characters, it is like a part of himself has died. It is no where near the same thing but that is the way I am feeling now that I have laid "Mr. Nice Guy" to rest or at least put him into hibernation.

I am a little bit lost right now. I am very conflicted. I cannot help but feel I am some unfinished business to take care of. I have had a few opportunities over the past several days to bring out the sleazy side of me but I passed those opportunities up. I have to be mentally ready to do something completely out of character for me because it is not that easy for me.

"Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose." Mary Shelley,Frankenstein.
Right or wrong, I now have a purpose and my mind is becoming more tranquil with each passing day.

Where I Am Supposed To Be

I am getting ready to move (again) and I have already been to check the place out. It is a small cottage but I really don't need much. It is not quite finished yet but I can't help but feel this is the place I am supposed to be. It has all of the elements I am looking for. It has the views that I crave, the nature that I love, and the solitude that I need. It will be my sanctuary. It will have everything I need to entertain if I so desire and it will be the perfect setting for me to write (think Henry David Thoreau's Walden Pond).

Most writers have their muse, usually a woman who challenges and inspires them to be at their best when they are writing but a muse can take many forms/ It can be an idea, a concept, or even a dream. My inspiration is waiting on me.

Time For Snuggling

The coming of cold weather means one thing and that is it is time for snuggling whether it be in front of a roaring fireplace or sitting around a campfire somewhere and if it is real bad, an electric blanket will do in a pinch. I am planning a beach trip in a couple of weeks and I am looking forward to building a fire on the beach and hanging out by the fire some. I am hoping it will be a little bit warmer at the beach but the philosophy is the same.

I would really like to go back to Savannah because I love the history of the place and I also have a little bit of unfinished business to take care of.

Sleazeball With A Heart

I spent most of the day thinking (when you have the mind numbing job I do, it gives you plenty of time to think) about how I could pull off being that guy and I think I may have found an answer.

I can be a Sleazeball with a heart. I am not talking about taping cab fare to their forehead so they have a way home when they wake up and I am gone in the morning. I can make them breakfast in bed before I send them on their way. I don't have any problems with that. I am a decent cook and I make a mean breakfast. A morning quickie after breakfast would be a good send off.

The setting is also key. When I get into my new place it will be perfect. A great view of the mountains, a deck with a barbecue, a great place to set my telescope up and view the stars, lots of privacy, a little creek nearby, and a great place to take walks. I also have a firepit for snuggling by the fire on those cool fall nights. Hugh Hefner eat your heart out.

I can be sleazy but respectful, funny yet sensitive, and lustful but sincere. I can wear many hats. I can be that guy with a heart.

Pulling This Off

Phase One of my "plan" is now complete. I went to the Doctor this morning and I did not exactly get a clean bill of health but I did get my prescription for the "little blue pill." I am facing at least two surgeries and maybe more, but those are going to have to be put on the back burner (for now).

I was contacted by a few of my readers last night that doubt my ability to become "that guy." One even went so far as to say that I have a "loving heart" and do not have it in me to create this sleazy alter ego. I really appreciate those kind words especially considering all I have been through here lately. I definitely need to work on my "game" (I don't even know if I have a game) but I am hoping that will come in time. Maybe I could go to a Sleazeball training camp of some kind or watch a 2 and a Half Men marathon or something or maybe even a few episodes of Rules of Engagement.

Right now I am putting my bottle of "little blue pills" in my fireproof safe so if the house burns down, I still have something to fall back on.

The Godfather of Strip Clubs

People refer to James Brown as "the Godfather of Soul." The other night when I was in Charlotte I got to hang out with the Godfather of Strip Clubs. He is an older gentleman (at least he is older than me) and he is a friend of a friend of mine. He met us at the Tilted Kilt restaurant for lunch on Saturday and the theme for the Tilted Kilt is the waitresses dress up like Catholic school girls. Most every guy includes his woman dressing up like a Catholic school girl among his fantasies.

The Godfather was up for touring the city with us strip club by strip club but little did I know he was going to be the best tour guide ever. He was a wealth of knowledge about the history of strip clubs in Charlotte dating back to the mid-1960's and I see a book in the making.

We started out at the Crazy Horse on Independence Boulevard but it was early on a Saturday afternoon and not much was going on. We hit the Gentleman's Club on Woodlawn next and it was definitely more interesting. One of the entertainers and I had an in depth discussion about reincarnation and I am always up for hearing new ideas especially while getting a lap dance. It was still early on a Saturday afternoon so we moved on to the Gold Club on Old Pineville Road where the Godfather joined us.

My two friends and I were not getting much attention from the entertainers but as soon as the Godfather showed up, we were surrounded by beautiful women. The Godfather started buying me beer and lap dances and that was when I knew I was with strip club royalty. The Godfather knew how to make things happen.

We had to take a dinner break and the Godfather wanted to take me to a fairly new club after dinner that I had never been to called Candy's Cabaret. The Godfather wanted to introduce me to some new talent he had found the night before in the form of 36 DDD's. This entertainer posessed the most perfect set of boobs I have ever seen. John sent her over to me and the girl was in street clothes and she said "John sent me over to dance for you." She had a t-shirt and some blue jeans but it was one of the sexiest dances I have ever received. It might be because she was in street clothes.

We bounced to Leather and Lace South after that so I could see an old friend. The Godfather sent me a few more "recommendations" and he definitely has an eye for talent. We finished out the night at the Gold Club which has always been my favorite club and it provided the perfect finish to the evening- beer, lap dances, and the MMA fight on the big screen and I got to hang out with the Godfather of strip clubs.

No More Mr. Nice Guy

One of rocker Alice Cooper's best known songs is "No More Mr. Nice Guy." That is going to be my mantra for the next little while. I have tried being the nice guy. I have tried my damnedest not to be "that guy" and have even written about it several times. All I have gotten out of being the nice guy is lied to, used , and thrown to the side so the women I go out with and try to have a relationship with can go running back to that guy when he shows up again.

I believe I am going to be that guy for a while or at least try to be that guy for a while. The only road block I am going to have to this concept is getting over my guilt of treating women badly. I hate making people feel bad about themselves and it really bothers me. I honestly hope I am never going to get used to treating people that way. I can pass this off as a "social experiment" but that is not going to make me feel any better about myself. I am curious to see if That Guy lives a better, fuller life than Mr. Nice Guy.

So off I go into the land of one night stands with a bottle of Viagra in hand, a thesis on paper, and a heavy conscience that I hope is always there. I will not be naming names or making them known in any way and I will never tell them about this blog.