Catting Around

April 4, 2014 at 9:04 am (One Particular Angel, Sweet sticky things)

Outie the Cat

Outie the Cat

‘Well my mind keeps goin’ through them changes…”

I quit updating my social status every time I caught the eye of a new girl, or caught up with an old one, or dumped one forever, because nothing is forever (yet) and I am a pussy when it comes to being firm in my convictions.

Besides, I’m not sure any of us knows what we really want.

Things seemed hot and heavy with Angel, then her boyfriend came back to town. Rain is off heroin, living downtown and doing fine. Meg is having her own unique set of crises, but the Marshal is out of the equation, and I am her go-to guy.

And I am seeing all of them.

Meg has been doing well. She’s built a small business in her apartment, a legal one no less. I’ve helped a little, with courier services, minor lifting and advice, but she’s done well for herself. She has a tribe of minions in the form of drug-addled old ladies she’s taught to make costume jewelry, and she’s making enough money she’s starting to worry about her subsidized housing. Like I tell her, I have to remind myself occasionally I’m dealing with a crazy woman.

Rain is in great shape physically. She’s back on a methadone program, keeping the faith and resigned to the fact she’ll likely be on it for the rest of her life. After I was blown off for Angel’s old boyfriend, I texted Rain, “How you doing? Just wanted to say hi.”

She texted right back, “Hi Outie! Are sure that’s ALL you wanted? Heyyy!”

Oh, the girl knows my tricks. An hour later she was tapping on my window and we were sharing a pantsless moment or three. She’s a beautiful woman, and as I tell her often, “I can never stay away from you for very long.” She left my heart with me, but took a lot of aggression and frustration with her. Thanks, Innie!

She’s still got a giant pile of stuff by my door. “Can I just leave it there until I get my place?” she asked. Christ, it’s been there for months, guess it won’t hurt a little longer.

As I was escorting her home on the bus, she checked her text messages. Hmm, do I dare look? It tends to bring out the jealousies in me. I tried not to, but couldn’t help. It was from… Outie?

“Is that an old message or something? That’s weird,” I said. “I’m standing right here.”

“No babe, look; I have this game on my phone. It’s like a Sims.”

Sure enough, she’s got a cyber-pet cat. She gave him blue eyes and named him Outie. He texts her when it’s feeding time, or if she leaves him in bed too long.

“Watch this,” she said. She let him out of bed, use the bathroom, etc… She would capture phrases I’d say on her phone, Outie would repeat them. She could make him dance like Bugs Bunny when Yosemite Sam would shoot at his feet. She could slap the shit out of him until he knocks out, (a favorite, it seems) then he jumps back up, shakes off the birdies and is back to his goofy grin. Then she feeds him, tickles his balls (“Ah ah ah!”) and sends him back to bed.

Much like in real life.

Traveling Pube Museum

Traveling Pube Museum

And then Angel, the one who complicates it all. I could go on being a slutty redhead forever, but there’s something about Angel that makes me want to keep it in my pants until I can share it all with her. (I tried that, didn’t work. A little help here, Angel?) I know I’ll have no problems committing to Angel, should she ever want that, but for now I’m in ‘use it or lose it’ mode.

I have made concessions. I have memorialized the Traveling Pube Museum, because it seemed weird to collect fuzzies from the girls again. It’s tacked to the wall by my desk, a gentle reminder that fifty is never too old. And if my plan works out, I will have the one set of pubes I really want with me all the time.

I was distant with Angel for a few days. Not mad, I could never be too mad at her. I understand old flames and giving it your best. The fact that she stays faithful and resists temptation (such as it is, anyway) makes my resolve stronger. I want this woman in my corner, on my side. I’m willing to let her drive.

When she texted me yesterday, asking if I’d help her polish her resume, I was most willing. “You make stalking so easy…” She LOLed, and said, “It’s time to make some changes.”

I like how she’s keeping me in the loop with these changes…

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