The Aesthetics of Goth

I got an email from Mar on Saturday telling me that she had gotten back together with her boyfriend L. and asking if I was up for a drink. I wrote back suggesting that maybe we shouldn't hang out if she wanted to give her relationship a chance to work. She responded that she had her head on straight now and asked why didn't I want to be her friend after all we've been through. I agreed to meet her for a couple drinks at Nick's but made plans with my Polish friend Z.B. for later, effectively sandwiching her into a limited time slot.

A little background is in order: after we broke up, Mar began dating L. L is closer to her age and, apparently, not very experienced with women. When she was dating L, she complained about his neediness and insecurity but remained with him. Once a month or so, we would get together for drinks and end up in bed. She would always tell L. He would reassure her that he loved her and express his desire to "work through the David issue." She eventually broke up with him but had apparently decided to take him back.

Bethany was working that night, and as Mar sat down on the barstool an icy stared passed between them. I got up to use the bathroom and asked Bethany for an opinion on my new shirt.

"I like the shirt, David, I'm just not crazy about the girl."

I had to laugh, damn her!

Mar and I made idle chit-chat until Z.B. arrived, at which time I bid her farewell and good weekend. Bethany sent me a text: "David, seriously how could you bring her here? She hates me!" I sent back: "I wont again."

Mar is a beautiful woman. She is smart. She is witty. She is warm and funny and has a beautiful smile. I will always remember how she made me laugh. How she would hold me down and pluck my chest hairs with her teeth. How she would imitate characters from South Park. Lovemaking was extremely intimate between us.

Unfortunately, she is also a basket case. None of my friends could stand her. I broke up with her because I couldn't deal with her shit. And after the breakup, she fell completely apart. I felt a bit responsible and I still cared about her and she has remained in my life but I think she'd be better off if she moved forward.

Last night, a few of us wound up at a goth club called Neo, a place you have to enter through the alley. Goth women are truly hideous---they tend toward the shapeless and hopelessly overweight, their hair is dyed jet-black (a color in which no one is attractive, I'm afraid) and they carry the petulant, dour facial expressions of unhappy adolescent girls. The few semi-attractive women were paired up with men.

As I was making my way from the bar to the dance floor, I woman kissed me on both cheeks and announced:

"Love is in the air. Can you feel it?"

She told me that she had arrived in a van and was going back to Naperville and did I want to come along?

Some women should just not take ecstasy.

I passed, of course. Waking up next to a goth chick in her parents' basement in Naperville would be starting the day on the wrong foot.

I got a couple text messages from Submissive Liz and responded, but chose not to pursue a hook-up. Her last text read, "Too bad you're not at Nick's." Too bad, indeed. The weekend was over, and I had not been laid. I took a cab home and fell into a deep, comfortable slumber.