I have been tracked down. Thankfully, there were no secret children, outstanding claims, or long-standing grievances to be settled.
To be fair, I have parted amicably with all of my exes, on good terms, friends… mostly.
Even though the years have passed, and many circumstances are different, they do not appear to have changed that much.
Party girl is still partying loads at clubs, pubs and concerts. Brainy girl has acquired another degree and works and reads loads. Media girl is forever busy with a full work and social diary. Some things don’t change.
It got me thinking about what my unsuccessful conquests were up to. I set about tracking them down.
There was Medical girl - I don’t remember whether she was studying to be a proctologist but she sure loved assholes. The Twins, Fock Me and Fock You – I still have naughty thoughts about dating them both at the same time. Horsey girl – she preferred stable boys hung like horses. I could go on, but I shan’t.
I managed to track a few down and struggled to think of what I might say. I reviewed my options:
“Hi, remember me, I wanted to bonk your brains out.”
“Hi, I don’t think we were ever properly introduced, but I wanted to bonk your brains out”
“Hi, you probably don’t remember me, but I wanted to bonk your brains out.”
I mused on the situation. In the end, I made no efforts at contact. After all, they were not friends, but mere aquaintances. There was no meaningful connection beyond my lust.
I tire of the seemingly endless stream of banal social and professional networking. I choose not to participate in much of it.
Catching up with the exes was a pleasant surprise. After all, we shared spiritual and carnal pleasures together. Though it did not last, we shared a meaningful connection for a time.
Beaverboosh
