|
Writer
Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: Boston area
Posts: 39
|
Pride and Confidence
He would probably, if pressed for an answer, explain his behavior off by telling people he was a “hopeless romantic”. The fact was that he was a lover of the opposite sex and although he realized half the time that he was using certain people, it was never his intention to hurt anyone. Most women were more than willing to get together with him and do whatever it is men and women do. The problem was afterwards when they realized that he didn’t want anything more than what they had right there on the surface. There didn’t have to be anything else than there was, they worked really well together when it came to just being friendly and also did very well when intimate. There was something about leaving himself a back door in any given situation. It had to be there or else he felt stifled.
It frightened him that someday he would meet the perfect girl and pass right by her as if she were one of the rest.
But for now he was content to stay in his own little world which existed somewhere between complete elation and suicidal depression. He found that he would go through bouts of depression only when there were no girls around him, and the obvious elation came when there were more. There was just something about them that made him feel….. good, needed, even loved at times. The fact that he could read reactions and tell what people were thinking half the time was a definite plus, especially when it came to the physical needs and wants of a woman. For example, he was a great kisser because he just followed and let the women lead. If they chose to ram their tongue down his throat so be it, if they were more of a slobber-all-over-your-face kind of kisser that worked also. He was not picky, he just needed a physical companion.
That was when Genevieve entered his life. She had been in his class for over three years and yet he would not have been able to pick her out of a crowd. In fact, after glimpsing her for the first time he remarked to a friend, “hey, who’s the new girl and why haven’t I tapped that ass yet?” as guys will do. However, what he was truly thinking was, ‘when can I meet this girl because she may in fact be the one’. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew it, or why he thought it or any of that stuff, but it was a feeling that came from very deep in his heart.
It turned out that Genevieve was going to be a much tougher sell than any previous female he had encountered. There always seemed to be at least three ways of approaching a girl that would get them to hook up with him in one capacity or another. The first was to basically stalk them around, start hanging out where they did, and just gradually get them to notice you. This method always worked but it seemed to take so much time that he hardly ever used it unless she was really hot and warranted that kind of attention. The second method was to do the meet and greet through a mutual friend. The two downfalls to this plan were that you had to find a mutual friend and you risked the girl thinking you were a total dweeb since you couldn’t even ask her yourself but had to rely on a third party. The third technique was the one he favored which was the point-blank technique. This involved basically getting to know the girl just enough and then one day just going right up to her and asking her out. He was actually quite surprised by how many girls this method worked on. He had always figured that if someone came up to him in that way, that he would be so creeped out he would most likely call the cops on them.
However, as it turned out, this last one was the technique that worked for him when it came to Genevieve. He had the good fortune to be in two of her classes and so he made sure to be called on and gave witty but correct answers then looked right at her to see if she was smiling with everyone else. She was.
He very confidently strode up to her. He didn’t know any other way of approaching because he never got turned down. It might take a few times but he always got what he wanted. They always ended up saying yes. He knew she would too. As he approached her there was a slight commotion behind her and she turned the other way, which worked for him because it allowed him to move closer next to her without her seeing. Catching them off guard always worked. They figured it was smooth, that he was good at things, good at being a man, good at being a suave, debonair, and above all, a great partner. They just never thought about for how long he would be around, but that wasn’t really the point now was it? They were all he thought about, all he wanted, everything he desired and needed.
Genevieve stood there watching the group of guys and girls who were roughhousing behind her and making it quite obvious that she wished they would stop their messing around so that she could go about her business. She was putting books into her side-pack without looking and as he approached her, her body tensed up. She had stopped moving. She knew he was there.
He saw her tense up and immediately stopped in his tracks. He wanted her. He knew it now more than ever before. He wanted her so badly that he could not only taste it, but he knew exactly what he was going to do. He knew it would be even easier than the last girls, she was obviously someone with a lot of defense mechanisms and therefore someone who would be even more vulnerable if he played vulnerable. So he did. He walked up to her with his head slightly bent forward, his posture as diminutive as possible, and his brow furrowed. She was going to be putty.
After he approached her it was all about the pity. He asked her if she would consider going out with him, just once for a burger. She gave him a strange look, one of those looks that says she really would never consider such a thing, but that she was thinking about it because what was the harm in going only once.
The entire time she stood there considering him, he was thinking to himself, ‘you know you want it, come on, you know you want it, you know you want…” and so on. There was a confidence that he felt, an inner hubris that had been pooled together, congealed from the few years he had been dating. There had never been a no, and he was of the opinion that there never would be. Confidence was leading him and in the end would most likely be his downfall. Yet he never even considered such a prospect and in his mind everything was just fine.
Genevieve eventually said she would have to think about it. She said she was not quite sure what she wanted to do, that it was one of those things that would take her a few days to think about. He was shocked. He had been so sure that this technique would have worked with her. In his mind, Genevieve’s uncertainty was as bad as a flat no. It just didn’t happen. He had been so sure that there was something different about her, that she was going to be the one who would provide him with that closure, that she would be different somehow. But he had obviously been wrong.
As Genevieve began to walk away, he called out after her, demanding to know what was wrong with her. She stopped in her tracks and the group of roughhousing kids stopped talking and stared. He ignored them all and began to gradually raise his voice louder and louder with each consecutive statement. Why couldn’t she just make up her mind? Wasn’t she attracted to him? How could she feel the way she did? His questions got so loud and obnoxious that a few of the now quiet group of kids came over and told him he should probably calm down. He shoved them off and began stalking after he down the hall with the two kids in tow. Genevieve was speed-walking ahead of him without speaking at all but looking very upset.
How could he have been so wrong about her? He could have sworn there was something different about her. Why did it have to be that she was the first one to say no? If there was something he was prepared to deal with it was definitely not that. As he stomped down the hall, hollering obscenities at her, he could not help but realize he was doing exactly what he had always been afraid of. The thought was continuously pushed down in favor of the fact that she was just being a stupid bitch who wasn’t seeing him the right way. How the hell could she be seeing him right? Everyone else who even looked at him loved him… the first time out… they just… they… they…
He stopped.
Genevieve had been the one failure in any sort of conquest relationship. He knew he could charm them, he knew he had it in him. That had been high school for crying out loud. Now look where he was. He was the most powerful man around and the more powerful he became the more they wanted a chance with him. He had his token marriage, a beautiful daughter of whom he was damn proud, and some of the most amazing exploits ever, hell even his idol Jon F. Kennedy, had been with Marilyn Monroe. But he knew it was never going to come back and bite him in the ass the way Genevieve could have. He thought about her all the time. The one. But it didn’t really matter because now he was in the one position where he could get any woman and there was no way it would come back at him because people in general loved him, men and women loved him, they loved what he did for them. He sat back in his large leather chair and stared at the white walls of his office. He smiled. Leaning forward and pressing the intercom button, he thought to himself, ‘this is it, nobody wants to hurt me, and nobody can’.
“Ms. Currie? You have yourself a great night. And on your way out please send in that new intern, Monica. Thanks.”
Untouchable.
|
