Anthony Scopatz

I think, therefore I amino acid.

[Pallas: 3] Sultry

Hello California! This one is for you. If you can read this, consider yourself privileged.

So it might be the case that I am a terrible person.

The Story:

So remember that girl from Belleville from the previous Pallas posts, Beanie, who I went with to buy some tequila. Well, this is her Beltane story.

Basically, over Friday night and Saturday, Beanie and I talked. A lot. The more we conversed the more similar we seemed. There were times where I had to figure out new and exciting ways to say that I felt exactly the same way about any given subject.

Maybe this started out as, “Don Julio/Patron is made of gold” (or blanco, as the case may be)! However, it quickly progressed to Coffee, Tea, Politics, Relationships, Personality Types, and other important value systems. We aligned on a lot of levels.

So we went to get tequila, the good stuff, on Saturday afternoon. The trip took at least an hour. During this, we exchanged the important parts of our life stories. Though I may have grown up a troubled individual, she definitely got the raw end of it. Her youth reminded me most of Jessie’s. Though this is not to say that it was strictly analogous. I immediately empathized nonetheless.

At the “I’ve never” game that night, we got drunk on our Don Julio. Then we went and sat by the bonfire. Having all warmed up, several of us took off our shirts. I gave Beanie a massage. I think I picked up the giving massages to people thing subconsciously from Sal & Friends (tm). So now I slip into it whenever I am sufficiently tipsy.

Well, this time it worked. Her tent was destroyed by ants the night before and rain that day. I offered (utterly selflessly mind you) to continue the massage in the my tent, and let her crash there if she wanted. Once in my tent we ended up cuddling and talking some more.

This is when it came out that she had delayed in telling me about her absent boyfriend for the first day. I told her that I thought she was swell and that I didn’t want to do anything that would endanger her relationship and that I didn’t really come prepared to do anything (All True). And that everything was in her hands. That being said, I did say that I really wanted to make out with her.

And we did. And I just might be a terrible person.

And before anyone asks, her hair is shoulder length…a grown out bob if my skill does not fail me. I blame Colleen Moore.

Why I Might Be A Terrible Person:

Before we fooled around, Beanie indicated that she was in some sort of partially open (mostly closed) relationship where her boyfriend wanted to meet the other party first. So closed. At least for purposes here.

Fuck. In this replay of the Santa Barbara fiasco, I became my nemesis! Damnit, I willingly and knowingly did something that was a violation of someone else’s terms. This makes me an automatic shitty asshole. I swore up and down that I would never fucking do this. What the in the god damn hell?

After talking with Meenon, I am convinced that I acted with a lack of integrity. Not that there is anything I can do about it now. So from an emotional perspective it doesn’t pay to worry about it any more.

Kerry Prime in her infinite pragmatism pointed out a couple of other essential tid bits. For instance, I understand that blaming just the extraneous boy in these situations devalues the position of the girl. After all, it takes two to frottage. Beanie had to want this to happen at least as much as she didn’t. This wasn’t me trying to piss off some other guy.

But now that it is over, Kerry pointed out that I am essentially out of the picture. What happens in their relationship is their business. I stay the fuck back. I am not an equal partner in any of this.

Which is frankly good advice. At the time I said I was concerned for her and her relationship. I didn’t want her to emotionally divest from her primary partner into me. But Beanie always countered that she was worried more about me afterwards. At the time I didn’t understand what she meant. But now I do.

Kerry also pointed out that what I did isn’t technically as bad as what had happened to me. Effectively I am just some random other penis. However, when I was the primary partner, I lost my entire support system overnight.

What Good Came Of This:

I think it is important not to understate the amount of real chemistry that there was between Beanie and I. Ok so maybe it wasn’t quite the drop everything and run off into the sunset with me kind of thing. But it was probably more than sufficient for the holiday romance that ensued.

She kept saying that she almost never trusts anyone, but for whatever reason she trusted me. I only trust people as far as I think they trust me. So repeating this really hit the right spots personally. I almost never trust anyone, but because of this I trust her. Under more sceptical circumstances, I would call this some pretty sophisticated flirting. But I don’t doubt the sincerity of it. Even if she did end up in my tent.

Then there is this whole weird “both of us are serial monogamists” thing. How the fuck did we end up together, so compromised? I am purposefully on hiatus; trying to appease friends and family that urge me to do something different. I even went so far as to sleep with bullshit people to try to get them to go away. Apparently, that always backfires. So I resolved to only be with those who I am actually attracted to and hold some affection for. So I know why I invited her into my tent in the first place, but why she accepted is still sort of a mystery.

Neither should it be overlooked that it has been three years since anyone has called me sexy, out of a sense of lust. And for me to find them attractive in return, seems like a pure Godsend. She said she would have preferred me with a beard. She even said that my weird back hair patches were hot!

It has been so long since that amazing thrill. The mental, emotional, and tactile all came together. Even if it was for just a moment, it is such moments that make life worth living.

I can’t believe that I was missing that surge when you kiss someone. Really kiss them. Not how one would kiss one’s mother. But in that way that hints “Your Body, tell me more…” No blandness, no marketing, but the essence of physicality.

I think if we had gone any farther than we did, my heart would truly be broken now. But making out is something I can do with anyone and not feel particularly jealous or invested. However, this was, for better AND worse, more than just making out.