I haven’t been drinking lately. In the last six weeks, I’ve drunk twice – once, by mistake. Tonight, I made the decision to have a drink or two. I had a short period of time to kill, so I went into a bar, tucked my phone away, and had a Black Label on the rocks. After a few minutes, the guy next to me and I started chatting. He’s a finance guy, good-looking, blond. He’s older than he looks – I would have guessed late 20s, but he told me mid-30s. Divorced. Call him “Tim.”
To Tim’s left, on the far side from me was a brunette – mid-20s, short-ish hair, bright whites around deep brown eyes. Sexy, full lips, white teeth, and a big, winning smile. She’s hot. Call her Alison.
Did Tim start talking with me to facilitate his ultimate approach to Alison? Probably. I didn’t mind. He was interesting enough. We talked – about his world (one about which I’m not un-knowledgeable), and about mine. Then, he used me to break the ice with Alison. He told her what I do.
Alison didn’t seem to mind, and she was quick, too: “Me too!” she lied.
She had me for a moment. She had him for two.
Did she like him? I don’t know. He was cute, and a good enough conversationalist. He was confident, well dressed. (I, on the other hand, have shed all my suits, and was in my customary jeans and t-shirt.)
Quickly, I hijacked the conversation.
I told them about this blog, about monogamish-ness. Tim looked like his head was going to explode, and Alison looked like, more than anything else, she was loving watching his head explode. I told them both that I’m dominant, that I like a submissive woman. Alison didn’t react as I might have expected her to, were she submissive – she seemed familiar with the concept, but I didn’t get the sense she’s a subscriber. (I reserve the right to be wrong.) Tim, on the other hand, looked shocked at the concept. He ain’t no dom, I thought.
We talked about the challenges of a relationship like mine. Tim asked about what he called “the J-word.” Then, about the “L-word.” I’m smart: I figured out he meant “jealousy” and “love.” I told him I love my wife, that, occasionally, I feel jealousy, but that in practice, envy has been more of a challenge for me. That we love each other desperately, that we’re “soul mates.”
Neither Tim nor Alison is interested in a monogamish relationship. I don’t blame them. I didn’t evangelize. (I don’t.) But I thought to myself that Tim seemed to have some pretty strong feelings about how to conduct a marriage for a guy whose marriage ended in divorce. He wasn’t so much advocating those views as asking questions that seemed informed by them.
Alison, on the other hand, seemed, as she professed herself to be, genuinely “open-minded.” I don’t think she wants an open relationship, or to marry someone who isn’t “enough” for her (whatever that means, ten, fifteen years into a relationship). But she was, it seemed, interested.
He left first, leaving his card in each of our hands. Alison and I talked for just a few minutes more. I pointed each of them this way.
I would actually love to hear from each of them again, to continue that conversation, or to start a different one.