Then there are these smaller less targeted events I attend. Some for bankers who strut the show floor in twenty year old suits and a trophy wife two years older. Others are the annual escape of the bean counter that drinks like he should have in collage but didn’t know anyone old enough to buy for him.
I was at an event in Boston recently where the most curious of things happened to me. A woman of mature years approached me during a very slow evening reception. Polite as always I started with small talk and chit chat (my specialty.) She told me about the number of years she had been coming to this event, the tradition of a few groups to stay up all night drinking, skip the daily sessions, and get as many free dinner and drinks from sponsors as she copuld. Her Virginia accent kept me guessing at every other word. The longer she lingered the more annoying it became. She flagged over an old comrade of the conference scene who filled me in on what room the parties were going to be in each night of the week, and she wrote them down for me on her business card so I would remember.
When I Stepped from the exhibit area after the night had finished she spotted me from her bench outside one of the corporate suites. Well past her allotted three drink ticket maximum from the exhibit area bar she made it well known that I was her kind of man. It has been so long since I was anyone’s man that I almost considered her offer.
There was a game I used to play – invented it myself, and shared with others at times. I called it Binary Love. The rules were simple, but absolute. When you see someone of the opposite sex, you must admit your immediate reaction of a “yes” or “no” to the question “would you ever have sex with them?” You might say “you didn’t invent that P2. That is just human nature.” But read the rule again – it’s absolute “Would you ever?” Ever? Well, I suppose if I were in a fall out shelter, if I were stuck on an island, I we were the last two people…. Well, that is a different question. It would have to be an awful situation where a person more then rubs you the wrong way to say no. Wouldn’t it? While I never did any test marketing of this question on my female friends, it usually boiled down to men think they will have sex with 75% of women they see in an absolute situation.
After years of training for this moment the offer came out in a less then casual slur of drunkenness. I kindly declined. My life is not that absolute, but her breath was pure Absolute.