How Much is Too Much?

I saw Marla again this weekend. We went to Greekfest and met up with two of her friends. My buddy ZB showed up with an attractive blonde on his arm and we ended up on the roof of a restaurant, consuming massive quantities of Greek wine while the sounds of music of revelry drifted up from the street below.

Marla is going to Greece in two weeks and, as ancient Greece is a subject near and dear to my heart, I kept her entertained with tidbits from Thucydides and Herodotus. Was I showing off? I was. Was she entertained? She was.

Unfortunately, part of me, perhaps the unreasonable, anal-retentive part, had to cringe. I applaud people who travel overseas and I cherish the memories of my own European trips but it was readily apparent that Marla has no knowledge of Greek history or culture---I'm not just referring to 5th century BC Athens but to its 19th century struggles as an occupied territory of the Ottoman empire and its role in modern europe, its political climate, industries, traditions, etc.

ZB had some pics on his camera from his own recent trip to Greece and showed her a photo of a column on which Byron had carved his name when he was fighting for Greek independence. She didn't know who Byron was, either.

When I visit a foreign country, I brush up on the history and cultural life. I want to understand the significance of the builings, churches and monuments I'm about to see. Otherwise, the trip can turn into just another club outing, albeit to one where everyone speaks a foreign language. It reminds me of the time Shaquille O'Neal visited Athens and a reporter asked him if he'd been to the Parthenon. He responded:

"I can't remember the names of the clubs we went to."

Marla is smart and clever, but I'm getting the impression that she doesn't really read. I didn't see any books in her apartment, either.

At any rate, we wound up at Nick's and continued drinking well into the evening. And, while this is embarrassing to write about, I owe it to my loyal readers not to hold back.

I passed out during sex.

The last words I remember hearing, as she attempted to revive my flagging interest, were:

"Aren't you attracted to me?"

At about five in the morning, I woke up and redeemed myself. We were both drunk the night before, and I don't think there were any lasting bad feelings. We're going to a tapas restaurant on Friday night.

However, my morning run (13 miles) was pure hell until mile 7. Every pounding of my feet was pure agony. And I deserved every bit of it.

As far as passing out mid-coitus, Mar did that once. She had a presciption for a powerful sleeping pill. I tried one once and it left me exhausted and lethargic the entire next day. She took two before bed and fell asleep during sex. The experience made me wonder about people who would drug a woman for the purpose of sex. You've got to have some serious control issues to get off on that. Not a fun thing to have your partner pass out. But I understood and didn't think to hold it against her.

Speaking of Mar, she came over yesterday and we watched Super Troopers together. I had already made plans to see Superbad with Urban Melissa, UMB and Guatemala so our time together was effectively limited. And Mar may be moving to Colorado to live with her brother which would remove one troubling situation from my life. I'll keep y'all posted as the situation develops on all fronts.