The Bucket List
The upside of a wide and varied extra-curricular life is that I meet some real characters. It also creates opportunities that few get to experience. Today was one such surreal moment.
For a few months I knocked around (ie. drank copious amounts of alcohol in a highly meaningful, friendly, non-toxic yet extremely casual sexual relationship) with an "age inappropriate" man, who we shall call Ed after Jack Nicholson's character in the fabulous movie, The Bucket List. In real life, Ed is a combination of both Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman's character Carter. He's loaded, extraordinarily fun and witty and was married at the time I met him. Such incidentals aren't that important. Anyway, I had handed Ed back in one piece doing what I usually do to escape any form of commitment or "end" - by packing up and moving countries. I didn't hear from Ed for a long time, until Sunday when he sent me an email asking me for lunch today.
If the roles were reversed and Ed was a female and I was male, such a visit out of the blue and I would be expecting the bad news that I had fathered a child. Obviously as curious as hell I accepted and met Ed.
We sat and chatted the way we used to. Dirtily. Ed was as obnoxious and rude as ever, eyeing up anything that walked past and bending sideways at the waitress. As always Ed exhibited impeccable manners towards me and after asking him politely to tone down his outrageousness, he did so.
After a main of pasta, Ed announced to me that his wife had left him, he'd moved in with another woman who also had left him. Neither was very surprising. Then in the same breath told me he was terminally ill with cancer and had six months left of decent living before he was going to die.
Its' a little unnerving to know that someone you have slept with is going to die but possibly something I should get used to. Ironically for all the "age inappropriateness" that I have experienced over the years the only one who has died on me so far was one just two months older than I am. From a munted liver due to alcohol abuse and an infection.
Anyway Ed is a great guy and so in the spirit of knowing what he wanted me to say, I responded "fuck, best you go have some fun then". And he is planning it.
"Want to come to Europe with me"?
Well of course I bloody would but I have an irritating thing called a "j.o.b". Ed was then dumb enough to tell me that he would pay for me to go (ie. the air fare and hotels). And this is the problem with Ed. Short-sightedness and inability to measure the concept of opportunity cost.
For all the alcohol I drank with Ed, for all the stories he shared and all the problems of his I listened to, his reality was a little off. I know exactly what Ed was doing. He's been doing a Bucket List with pretty much every woman who is left in his little black book that will still talk to him. He'd worked his way to Asia and to myself. Myself, I am willing to bet the most career minded female he's ever fucked.
If the dumb fucker had actually cut back his drinking, partying and debauchery when I told him to, he may not be in the position he is now. Such enlightenment however was not required or welcome at a time like this. I didn't even want to hear it myself.
Ed was looking for a Carter. However unlike Carter I am not to my knowledge terminally ill, and unlike Anna Nicole Smith, I wasn't going to take Ed for all the money he has now and stop for a shot-gun wedding in Vegas to get the rest.
Once I told Ed that I couldn't quit my job, take six months and travel with him unless I was paid a very large sum in compensation for the step backward in my career, not to mention the hours I would have to spend back in the gym from living the Life of Ed, Ed did what he normally did after the wind up. Lost interest in arguing, sat back, laughed and enjoyed himself.
Ed complimented me on being sensible, then again that it was nice that I was so low maintenance that he didn't even feel he needed to bring me a present.
That just pissed me off and I remember again why I got sick of Ed and gave him the flick. Ed never bought me any fucking presents. Alcohol and restaurant meals are NOT, I repeat NOT gifts.
I promised Ed that I would look him up when I am in Europe in August. And I will. If it suits my schedule.
Ed always did things to suit his own. Even dying.
For a few months I knocked around (ie. drank copious amounts of alcohol in a highly meaningful, friendly, non-toxic yet extremely casual sexual relationship) with an "age inappropriate" man, who we shall call Ed after Jack Nicholson's character in the fabulous movie, The Bucket List. In real life, Ed is a combination of both Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman's character Carter. He's loaded, extraordinarily fun and witty and was married at the time I met him. Such incidentals aren't that important. Anyway, I had handed Ed back in one piece doing what I usually do to escape any form of commitment or "end" - by packing up and moving countries. I didn't hear from Ed for a long time, until Sunday when he sent me an email asking me for lunch today.
If the roles were reversed and Ed was a female and I was male, such a visit out of the blue and I would be expecting the bad news that I had fathered a child. Obviously as curious as hell I accepted and met Ed.
We sat and chatted the way we used to. Dirtily. Ed was as obnoxious and rude as ever, eyeing up anything that walked past and bending sideways at the waitress. As always Ed exhibited impeccable manners towards me and after asking him politely to tone down his outrageousness, he did so.
After a main of pasta, Ed announced to me that his wife had left him, he'd moved in with another woman who also had left him. Neither was very surprising. Then in the same breath told me he was terminally ill with cancer and had six months left of decent living before he was going to die.
Its' a little unnerving to know that someone you have slept with is going to die but possibly something I should get used to. Ironically for all the "age inappropriateness" that I have experienced over the years the only one who has died on me so far was one just two months older than I am. From a munted liver due to alcohol abuse and an infection.
Anyway Ed is a great guy and so in the spirit of knowing what he wanted me to say, I responded "fuck, best you go have some fun then". And he is planning it.
"Want to come to Europe with me"?
Well of course I bloody would but I have an irritating thing called a "j.o.b". Ed was then dumb enough to tell me that he would pay for me to go (ie. the air fare and hotels). And this is the problem with Ed. Short-sightedness and inability to measure the concept of opportunity cost.
For all the alcohol I drank with Ed, for all the stories he shared and all the problems of his I listened to, his reality was a little off. I know exactly what Ed was doing. He's been doing a Bucket List with pretty much every woman who is left in his little black book that will still talk to him. He'd worked his way to Asia and to myself. Myself, I am willing to bet the most career minded female he's ever fucked.
If the dumb fucker had actually cut back his drinking, partying and debauchery when I told him to, he may not be in the position he is now. Such enlightenment however was not required or welcome at a time like this. I didn't even want to hear it myself.
Ed was looking for a Carter. However unlike Carter I am not to my knowledge terminally ill, and unlike Anna Nicole Smith, I wasn't going to take Ed for all the money he has now and stop for a shot-gun wedding in Vegas to get the rest.
Once I told Ed that I couldn't quit my job, take six months and travel with him unless I was paid a very large sum in compensation for the step backward in my career, not to mention the hours I would have to spend back in the gym from living the Life of Ed, Ed did what he normally did after the wind up. Lost interest in arguing, sat back, laughed and enjoyed himself.
Ed complimented me on being sensible, then again that it was nice that I was so low maintenance that he didn't even feel he needed to bring me a present.
That just pissed me off and I remember again why I got sick of Ed and gave him the flick. Ed never bought me any fucking presents. Alcohol and restaurant meals are NOT, I repeat NOT gifts.
I promised Ed that I would look him up when I am in Europe in August. And I will. If it suits my schedule.
Ed always did things to suit his own. Even dying.
posted by Cactus Kate at 1:32 AM
4 Comments:
Powerful post. Real life. Well done.
He should have met your requirements. What kind of quality 'companionship' is he going to get in his last few months if he doesn't have to buy her out of a smart girl's career? What a cheapskate.
Lindsay
It's the free market at work I guess. Best he pop down to Wan Chai and rent a hooker by the hour. Cheaper. :)
Who's to say Ed is actually dying? Perhaps it's his latest "get laid" strategy.
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