Friday, July 21, 2006
Moments of Weakness
There are moments of weakness where one does what one is resoluted not to do. That is to pick up the phone and make that call.
P is not much of a phone dialer. Too many let down episodes and failed attempts at being a professional prank caller while growing up, she stopped trying altogether.
Funnily, that is what she has to do in her profession to be good at what she does. The more calls she makes, the better her mapping excercises and the closer she is to the market that she operates in. It seems that she has come of age to be confronted by that dark place yet again and there needs be for her to face her demons (ie. phone phobia) squarely and possibly exorcise that impediment and incoherence to her seemingly extroverted personality that is only capable of radiating charmingly in real human company.
For two consecutive days, she made two calls.
****
One was to a gentleman that she is rather attracted to electronically for his gift of clever wordplay and intellect, combined with his potential virility and skilful techniques in the private chambers. Nothing titillates her mind more than a sexy brain and great bedroom gravitas. As headhunters put it, he fits the bill stylistically.
Being a ladies' man, P reckoned he could help satisfy one aspect of that emotional gap that she experiences in her rather empty life. She could not help picturing the amount of potential or chemistry, as she likes it better, that they might well have on a far flung getaway dirty trip...Especially so, at moments where she dons her new lingerie before the mirror or when she sweats away at the gym...
So she picked up the phone and dialled the number. She reckoned it has been almost a good 6 months since they last heard each other's voices and it was a great time to re-acquaint themselves and refresh their memories of how the other would sound like.
As usual, her voice on the phone, like her less than photogenic self, did little justice to the charm she is deemed to exude in real person. She figured she sounded less sure of herself.
And thus, she renewed her self imposed vow where she figured she is better off dealing with the gentleman in scintillating electronic correspondence or revisiting each other in person behind cloor doors in another place at another time-where they would smother each other with enough dirty talk and play time to satisfy themselves carnally and intellectually...
****
Having two hours to kill, she reckoned she could lend the company of The Man for a drink. She hadn't seen him since the last time possibly in April. The last time, he eyed her secretly and caressingly and when she turned and caught hs longingness with a smile, he was quick to turn away in embarrassment. Already a wine in hand at her work desk and feeling slightly more relaxed as she was unwinding for the weekend, she dialled his number.
The Man is at home. With the wife. So she has finally arrived from that far flung country where arranged marriages are still commonplace! He had her transported (or perhaps her wicked self would proffer, imported?) three months ago as the visas got approved.
She thought she would never see him again since the last drink. She wondered what got into her tonight.
As usual, the 10 minute conversation ended in cordiality as it so much also extended to P's kindness in lending his wife a hand in pointing her to the right direction for her job search.
What a positive way to end the week!
There are moments of weakness where one does what one is resoluted not to do. That is to pick up the phone and make that call.
P is not much of a phone dialer. Too many let down episodes and failed attempts at being a professional prank caller while growing up, she stopped trying altogether.
Funnily, that is what she has to do in her profession to be good at what she does. The more calls she makes, the better her mapping excercises and the closer she is to the market that she operates in. It seems that she has come of age to be confronted by that dark place yet again and there needs be for her to face her demons (ie. phone phobia) squarely and possibly exorcise that impediment and incoherence to her seemingly extroverted personality that is only capable of radiating charmingly in real human company.
For two consecutive days, she made two calls.
****
One was to a gentleman that she is rather attracted to electronically for his gift of clever wordplay and intellect, combined with his potential virility and skilful techniques in the private chambers. Nothing titillates her mind more than a sexy brain and great bedroom gravitas. As headhunters put it, he fits the bill stylistically.
Being a ladies' man, P reckoned he could help satisfy one aspect of that emotional gap that she experiences in her rather empty life. She could not help picturing the amount of potential or chemistry, as she likes it better, that they might well have on a far flung getaway dirty trip...Especially so, at moments where she dons her new lingerie before the mirror or when she sweats away at the gym...
So she picked up the phone and dialled the number. She reckoned it has been almost a good 6 months since they last heard each other's voices and it was a great time to re-acquaint themselves and refresh their memories of how the other would sound like.
As usual, her voice on the phone, like her less than photogenic self, did little justice to the charm she is deemed to exude in real person. She figured she sounded less sure of herself.
And thus, she renewed her self imposed vow where she figured she is better off dealing with the gentleman in scintillating electronic correspondence or revisiting each other in person behind cloor doors in another place at another time-where they would smother each other with enough dirty talk and play time to satisfy themselves carnally and intellectually...
****
Having two hours to kill, she reckoned she could lend the company of The Man for a drink. She hadn't seen him since the last time possibly in April. The last time, he eyed her secretly and caressingly and when she turned and caught hs longingness with a smile, he was quick to turn away in embarrassment. Already a wine in hand at her work desk and feeling slightly more relaxed as she was unwinding for the weekend, she dialled his number.
The Man is at home. With the wife. So she has finally arrived from that far flung country where arranged marriages are still commonplace! He had her transported (or perhaps her wicked self would proffer, imported?) three months ago as the visas got approved.
She thought she would never see him again since the last drink. She wondered what got into her tonight.
As usual, the 10 minute conversation ended in cordiality as it so much also extended to P's kindness in lending his wife a hand in pointing her to the right direction for her job search.
What a positive way to end the week!
