For Play

Play wasn't bad, the music was decent, the company good. Even if I didn't booze up half as much as I would have liked to (1 Gin tonic, 1 Black Russian and some champagne - meant I remained woefully sober), I still enjoyed myself. But that's not what I'm blogging about. The night would have been a lot better if not for someone. That someone being my ex, W.

I'd lost touch with W. some years back. Not that I was particularly sorry. As I've mentioned in my earlier entry, during the short time I was together with W., my impression of him was always of an intensely passionate but brash, flirtatious and downright egoistical chap. Which obviously proved to be a toxic cocktail for any relationship.

So anyway, we were just getting started on the drinks when I noticed W. walking by and talking to a friend (whom he later disclosed nonchalantly was just a passing fling) so like what any normal person would do to someone (who isn't a hated individual) whom they haven't met for a long while, I tapped his shoulder and called out his name.

Upon which he turned around and calling out my name, proceeded to get all touchy feely with startling alcarity. One would have thought we were newly attached lovebirds and not distant exes from the way he groped. So naturally, I pushed him away. After all, what kind of guy just goes up to an ex he hasn't seen for what 2-3 years and goes all physical and expects him to accept such advances without batting an eyelid.

But he was obviously high and would not be deterred, going on in that brash obnoxious way of his. Ranting on how about how he missed me yada yada yada. On hindsight, a tight slap would have been in good order. Though that would have pretty much ruined the mood for the rest of the night. The dancing was nice but that was about it. And caving in to his constant badgering to share a cab back with him was probably the stupidest decision I've ever made this past year.

Whatever. Just talking about him makes me ill. I've always been a very physical person myself, I thrive off physical contact. Being touched by and touching a person one finds attractive is always to me an incredible turn on. Yet it's strange how totally turned off one can be upon receiving the aforementioned physical contact and advances from the wrong person.

There's a good reason why exes remain exes after all. And that night at Play, just reminded me why nine years ago, I ended the relationship with W. Brash, shamelessly flirtatious, over-confident, egoistical, obnoxious. Bye bye W.