When You Fuck with People and It’s a Problem
“I fuck with people. It’s a problem.”
I say to a man that towers above me at six foot plus. He has a boyish face and looks to be about twenty. He’s the epitome of ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’ A tall glass of drink I’m tempted to sip from and I’m not sure why.
I’ve already messed with this one guy so much that I decided to give him a break. I stand next to this new subject and observe him. I’m not quite sure what it is, but I already find him intriguing.
“Sometimes people just need to be fucked with, that’s not exactly a problem,” he informs me.
I toss back my head and laugh. I always enjoy someone who can keep up with my wit and sense of humor. It’s a shade darker than most, like a midnight darkness that many don’t like to see or acknowledge.
He has a face that could be stern, and possibly intimidating if someone chose to see that. He cracks a smile at my laughter and it makes an instantaneous spark happen. I’m engaged with this person, they’ve scratched a little under my skin within a few moments of meeting me. I need to know how the brain works in reaction to my stimuli.
I tell him my profession that I normally withhold since it’s something everyone makes jokes about.
“I do that as well,” he says nonchalantaly.
“No way, you’re fucking with me,” I instinctively give him a good humored slap on his arm.
“I graduated in 2002,” he says in a cool, calm voice.
“Oh my god that’s so exciting!” I exclaim. I give a small jump and smack him lightly on the shoulder. Then I stop myself, narrow my eyes, and put a small amount of distance between us.
“You’re sure you aren’t fucking with me?” I ask again. It seems so highly unlikely that this person who is currently in the profession he’s in now was also within my career. They are polar opposite spectrums, like comparing day and night. My lips purse and he nods his head with a smile gracing his face.
“Not fucking with you, you make good money in it. When I was younger and out of college it was the perfect thing,” he replies.
My profession is one with a constant stigma attached to it even though it’s an amazing thing. I bounce from side to side for a moment with a barely held in excitement.
“I’m naming you Unicorn. That’s your name from now on with me.”
“I mean if we’re talking about Unicorns then I do have one thing in common with them involving the horn part…” his voice trails off with the implied innuendo.
I laugh again and raise a singular eyebrow that speaks bounds. My mind assesses our body language as we talk. I lean towards him with my expansive body language that always communicates dominance.
His is slightly subdued, his feet point toward me but he leans back on his elbows. They say the most honest part of the body is a person’s feet and I find this fact to be true. It’s the furthest away from the face and the most difficult to control. If your feet point toward the exit you want to disengage with this person and escape the conversation.
We both comfortably prop our elbows on a railing watching each other as a pendulum swings back and forth. There’s very little eye movement that strays away from each other’s faces.
We talk about age and guessing it. He guesses me to be twenty five which I take as a compliment. His age I guess incorrectly because of his boyish demeanor as we talk. He shows me a picture of him in a uniform and it doesn’t look like the same person. His face is dark, heavy, a mask of what it is now.
“You don’t even look the same,” I comment. My eyes dart up to his face and back to the photo. I would guess this to be a completely different person.
“That’s what war will do to you, it’ll age you,” he kids. But there’s a raw honesty to his voice. My head tilts to the side and I look at him in a way that I wish I could peel a layer off. This is a man of many different faces, yet not in a lying, manipulative way. It’s just he’s lived many lives within a short span, he’s a complex creature I haven’t met before.
“Did you ever have any issues with being hit on in our profession?” I ask him.
He cracks that charming smile I’m enjoying so much. There’s very little tells to his body language that I can garner. Only that he’s protective and won’t invade my space for the hell of it. I’ve had men try to gauge me by making me uncomfortable. He doesn’t do this, but I can tell he’s studying me as intensely as I study him.
“Oh yeah, sounds terrible but I mainly stick to female clientele now. The guys got too… aggressive.”
“Hmmm, well you are cute. I would imagine that would attract both sexes.” I say the thought out loud. I realize I’ve given him my own verbal tell. He laughs and shakes his head slightly with a bemused expression.
“Well, thank you. So are you.”
We have this thing where we speak in swears and then in intellectual linguistics. I love the duality of it because it speaks to the person that I am. I’m a rough mineral, never polished to a gem quality state of being.
My profession is one where I must be professional for my own safety, but also because it’s a part of my ethic code. I take it seriously, yet I’m a bullshitter to the extreme in life. Not lying per se, but just having fun with words and kicking people metaphorically in the brains a little.
This Unicorn man has a multitude of friends he knows. It makes me smile as he warmly greets them, yet I can feel him holding back. It’s like he shifts into a uniform with their presence. Their eyes dart between him and I and they excuse themselves to go to another area. I should be blushing that it’s so obvious that we’re highly engaged in our conversations.
I find him intriguing and dangerous at the same time. The danger is in the fact that I don’t even question in a rough housing battle he’d win. Another is that he seems to be my dirty minded equal as we say innuendos and then laugh at them. He’s someone where I want to be genuine with, and a person I want to peel layers off.
I make a comment about getting his phone number and he readily gives it to me. I wonder if this will be another experience of a person that I may never see again.
“Let me show you around this place. I’d love to stay talking with you here until they kick us out but I know the science of this place,” I say.
There’s nothing quite as exciting to me as playing tour guide for another person. Especially when I’m filled with useless knowledge.
“Alright, lead away.”
I take the Unicorn man with me and smile back at him as we move through the crowd.
Regular commercial break of if you enjoyed it please 💚 that into a pretty ❤️. Please and thank you!
