I had some trepidation about meeting her again, because I know she is dating other fellows, and that we weren’t really going on a date. I had bags of other stuff to do, and was very tired by the time we were due to meet. I had been trying to think of excuses all day as to why I couldn’t go, but then realised that this was a futile activity. If I didn’t want to go, I should simply tell her. Far simpler. But I don’t.
So she turns up with one of her friends, and we head out. It was great. The margaritas were about six dollars a pop, and the six of us got on great. Three margs, three people. Perhaps I enjoy it so much because they listen to my barmy stories with such glee. In some ways I needed to have a good time, especially with people who weren’t burners, and it proved simpler than I had imagined. In fact it was effortless with such charming companions. In some ways it was less than effortless, as it is widely understood on such occasions that there is no intentful flirting. Things are relaxed. Pool is played. Fun is had. A second gentleman joins the party. He is convivial. I don’t know his particular relationships with the two ladies, and I don’t particularly care. I leave him room to do his thing, if he has a thing to do. After a short while, we are all comfortable, and fun continues to have its merry way with us.
I am chauffeured back to my house before midnight, as she has been shagging her new boyfriend all night and is tired. This is fine by me. I had a nice uncomplicated time with some people who probably share no mutual friends with me. Maybe this is no-strings friendship. It works for me.