Around 11PM last night at work, The Waiter I Briefly Dated came into the bar to join his co-workers in getting drunk. Not a problem, that why bars exist, for people to have a good time with their friends and occasionally drink to excess (within reason-ish).
My problem began about 45 minutes later. I'm fucking exhausted, struggling to stay awake on my tired feet and annoyed that we are now forced to listen to terrible, terrible fucking Muzack (someone put on the 80's Hits channel - it was not dissimilar to working in a chain book store).
Anyways, I'm behind the bar checking Facebook on my phone when I get a text from:
The Waiter I Briefly Dated: "How's the texting going over there?"
Me: "Killing time on Facebook".
Keep in mind, he's sitting with his back towards me, about 30 feet away. Rather than respond I went out front to smoke and he did too, albeit with a few of his co-workers, and he ignored me, or maybe I ignored him, regardless. I go back inside and 20 minutes later:
The Waiter I Briefly Dated: Got plans for later?"
Like watching a car accident in slow motion, I slowly watched as his group peel off and right before we locked the door he plops down at the bar. It's empty except him, the bartender and myself. I'm trying to get the shit done I need to and he's blabbing while HIGH AS FUCK on coke and booze about how awesome Bonnaroo was. UGH. And for the record, I've been there, done that.
So the doors are closed and locked and he waits until the Bartender goes upstairs to deposit his drawer of cash. I'm smoking and sipping on a short beer and he intones:
The Waiter I Briefly Dated: "So... want to...hang out?"
Me: "No, I'm tired, I'm going home to sleep."
The Waiter I Briefly Dated: "Well...if...you want, I'll pay for a cab..."
The Waiter I Briefly Dated: "...and you can take advantage of me and then you can go right to sleep."
His further persistence was countered with my continued resistance; I offered a olive branch of sorts in the form of a shot of Jameson and he reluctantly sulked off. Jesus. Christ. Normally I would say something self-effacing such as I was flattered, but I was anything but; it was annoying.
YOU know, in the past, or perhaps even if The Waiter and didn't didn't share the past we did, I might have very well taken him up on his offer. And I'm not saying my actions last night were noble, far from it, because I bet, in fact I know I have been on the other side of the conversation, trying to force a situation that wouldn't, or rather, shouldn't happen.
And the thing is, a few months ago I did let it happen. We didn't have "sex" sex, but we had fun, and I feel partially responsible for planting that seed in his head that on the off chance that I'm horny (usually am) that I'll willingly whore myself to him, and me to him.
There is no moral opposition that exists in my brain to such a potential scenario, but I'm just...not the place right to do it. I could physically get it up, DUR, but mentally...fuck that. My tank of regret, shame and guilt is already overflowing, and I don't need to top it off, so to speak.
Furthermore, I won't ever NOT pick up Randos in bars going forward, but...it's not what I need right now. I know I'll end up liking whoever and mistake their lust for something more and just get disappointed, sink into a pool of depression, get fucking WASTED and have to climb out of yet another damn hole.
Besides. I can jerk off with either of my hands, if I feel the need for variety.