The Wet One Resurfaces…..

So the year of the snake has got off to a pretty slithery start. Once more I find myself on a slippery path to certain turmoil. I thought the ghosts of past dalliances could not possibly bite so early in the year. How wrong I was to make such an assumption. And oh what a tangled web we weave while we are at it.

Just a couple of hours after the New Year I bumped into “The wet one!” Of all the gin joints in the entire world she had to be at the very last one I hit that night. As a rule I always fly solo on new years eve , not because I am on the prowl or anything but more to evaluate the year past over a couple of cold ones . Then promptly get myself into new trouble as soon as possible once midnight has come and gone.

I figure that if I get the dating jinx out of the way early enough , the rest of the year should go pretty smoothly save a couple of tears and insults here and there. Nothing could have prepared me for this bombshell though. And what a bombshell it was! She had blossomed as beautifully as I had never imagined and she had the same effect on me as the first time we met. No preliminaries zero to hard in all of two seconds.

For a second or two (OK for what seemed like an interminably long time) I was shell shocked; floundering for an appropriate form of greeting. None was forthcoming and I simply leaned in for the hug gracefully averting my vexed countenance whilst giving myself away southward at the same time. As I wrested my flustered self away from her awkwardly I managed a half heartedly upbeat mumble “How have you been? You look great!”

“I can tell.” She beamed back with the same evil twinkle that I knew in her eyes even as she broke out in the same old infectious giggles. The glib retort I was about to deliver never left my lips. Confused, tongue-tied and breaking into a thin film of sweat I attempted to gain quick composure and failed miserably. In my head I was blaming the copious amounts of white caps I had consumed but I had the sinking sensation that I was deluding myself.

You see the reason for my discomfiture was quite simple. The wet one is one of those conundrums of dating. We never really broke up. She just up and vanished one day like a silent fart in the wind. Cell phone off, empty apartment, AWOL at work, not even her friends knew where she had gone or refused to let on I assumed at the time. Her folks I had never met nor had we ever spoken of for that matter. It was like she went into witness protection or something. Eventually I stopped waiting for the phone to ring and moved on.

Then, boom! Out of the blue there she was like an erotic nightmare I was groggily trying to expunge from memory. I excused myself and went in search of a cold frothy beverage to calm my nerves and cool myself down. As I leaned over the counter frantically trying to get some service she stood next to me a let out a cat whistle that ad the barman scrambling to where I stood . At that exact instant I knew that my goose was basted, cooked, and garnished.

Drink firmly in hand I was led away like a lamb to slaughter though Dutch courage seemed to diffuse from the bottle to my veins as she strode a little jiggly (in all the right places I might add) but resolutely toward the dance floor. As she began to sashay rhythmically to the beat I thought to myself “Abandon hope all Ye who venture here!” I kept time and pace gamely, keeping mum all the while, sipping slowly, drinking in her voluptuous form, keeping distance knowing all the time that this posturing was an effort in futility and that she knew it too.

Eventually I relented and leaned in close, feeling her breath on my neck, her bosom heaving against my puny chest, smothering me with her warmth and musky smell mingled with sweat and the promise of what was to come. I had an inkling of what a moth feels like as they plummet to their fiery grave: helpless. All thoughts of escape had by this time vanished and I was content just saying there in her embrace long buried emotions stirring, relentlessly surging to the surface; refuting banishment, manifesting their bittersweet selves nonetheless.

Drink still in hand but forgotten I reached with my spare hand to familiarize myself with the contours I had come to know so well. Gently but firmly my hand was removed from the small of her back and pushed further up. “I’m sorry” she whispered “Let go of me.” Once again she disappeared into the crowd like an apparition. My entire being shouted at me to go in hot pursuit but my legs were firmly rooted to the spot.

Emotionally drained, I sank into the nearest empty seat ignoring the drunken slurred protests of previous occupancy. None the wiser but feeling like I was in the vortex of an emotional “super storm Sandy” I left. I got into a cab and went home. Bereft of all sensory capacity I curled under my duvet, intoxicated by both the booze and the smell of her haunting, lingering in my nostrils. I drifted off to a dreamless sleep. I wondered before I succumbed gratefully to the blackness engulfing me what other horrors the year of the snake had in store for me. 363 days to go. This will be one long snake………..


About BMK

I have always been overwhelmed by the exuberance of my own verbosity and the fecundity of my mind's eye. View all posts by BMK

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