green light go- let's play a love game

I rarely write about my life on this blog... partially because nothing happens worth writing about, partially to keep specific people in state of suspended jealousy because my exhibitionism only extends to those for whom I want to perform.

Anyways, it's no big secret how desperate I am for a man. Looking back at years passed, I thought I would share a tragic/sweet story of how I used to meet guys. Even now I'm mostly clueless. I won't date off the Internet, which means only meeting guys in real life. Usually, I walk behind someone and trace my fingers across his back... unless I walk in front of him and trace my fingers across his stomach. It's enough to cross a boundary yet remain culturally acceptable. I never make eye contact until I'm a few feet away, then look over my shoulder with a sweet smile. It never really works, but as long as I get the feeling of attraction, I am temporarily satisfied. I like playing love games because I want love.

I've always loved driving, for me it makes me really relaxed. There's something exhilarating in the thought that I actually can go anywhere I want. It makes me feel free. I'm never doing anything, and for me driving has always been extremely therapeutic... I'm finally going somewhere, finally doing something. I had a car my first 2 years of college... then a scooter. In fact, my first boyfriend admitted that he fell in love with me because I drove a scooter. Nobody wants a guy who doesn't have a car, myself included. Cars can contain one's whole life, and are always a reflection of identity. People drive nice cars because it makes one feel good about one's self. I always wonder where young people had sex or snorted drugs before cars... I guess they just went outside.

Anyways, even though my car was ghetto, it was a still a car, so to those who had no car at all it could still be seen as a luxury. Whenever I would see a cute guy anywhere, I would pull up and ask him if he needed a ride somewhere... it was always a case of just needing a ride home. Since I was a gentle-looking 18 year old boy, I was rarely met with resistance, although there were people who refused and I could tell they were really creeped out. I never really had anything to do, and with so much time on my hands I never had anywhere I needed to be.

For a long time, I was completely sure I was going to meet the love of my life from offering him a ride. How cute of a story would that have been anyways? Walking down the street with a chip on your shoulder when all of a sudden a real life angel of Goodness flies in to save the day, and take your ass wherever it needs to go. I wonder how many people remembered me, and how many lost the random ephemeral memory during the transition of short term to long term. I still think about them. I like being nice to guys.

There's no way to know exactly how many guys I met this way. I purposefully never told this to boyfriends cause I never wanted them to get jealous or think I'm promiscuous. I was always looking for someone who wanted to be with me, some people search their entire lives and never find love. I heard a lot of sob stories, everyone has one and I don't want to hear any of them. Long story short, none of these "hook ups" ever resulted in sex, nor a boyfriend. Just phone numbers and more love games. Still, I think back to these days and get a big smile on my face thinking about how sweet and innocent it all was... how sweet and innocent I was...