Frank, you're just an asshole.

For reference: G is a year into the unflattering throes of getting dumped by a guy he'd gone out with for three or four months and fallen madly in love with. Also, I saw "her" from a distance for the second time since it ended about thirty minutes before this conversation took place. Other than (obviously) the anonymization, this hasn't been altered from the chat we had earlier this evening. I'm also going to include this link to a blog post by a mutual friend that we had both read before this conversation.

G: I had a conversation with T about you

  and she helped me understand why you were so mad at me.

  You and I have completely different ideas of what love is.

me: oh? which time being mad at you?

G: Most recent

  when I said you never loved her.

me: it was more silly than offensive. you couldnt know

G: Well, I don't think you loved her.

  But that's because of what I mean by love.

  I think it's unfathomable to leave someone if you love them.

  So like for comparison / my frame of reference.

  I thought I had contracted HIV and was going to die.

me: is it unfathomable to love someone who you can't be happy with?

G: My first thought was not "oh shit, my life expectancy"

  it was "oh no, I'll need to stay away from Sean forever to keep him safe."

  it turns out I didn't get HIV (most likely).

  but my thoughts were about the other person's well being

me: damned false negatives

G: above my own life

  and like

  for me

  that's a minimum requisite for love

  is that you have to care more about them than yourself

  and that doesn't seem compatible with the narrative you told me about your breakup.

    I think that loving someone (or something) in the conversational usage is different, it just means to be deeply grateful for their presence in your life

  but to be in love with someone, to love someone (romantically), means that you are completely given over to that person.

  that nothing in your life is as important as preserving their happiness

me: link

G: so that still doesn't see the semantic difference

  it says people shouldn't use it casually

  but there's a profound difference in the two meanings of love I laid out

  I don't think that post had that first meaning

  of thinking instinctively of her

  when harm was in your way

  rather than yourself

  not that you were in a life-threatening situation

  but like

  that reflex

  is a major part of love.

  as I understand it.

  and so given that, I don't understand how you could amicably end a relationship and call it love.

me: i guess this begs the question, by this definition are there people who are incapable of love?

G: yes.

me: well then it's just another kind of elitism

G: and I think that Sean, the guy I loved, is one of those people, unfortunately.

  But maybe not.

  I think it's for the best that he ended it, because now he has the chance to experience that with someone if I couldn't be the one he could experience it with.

me: that sounds like progress

G: no, I really don't think it's a superiority thing Frank

  I just think it's different.

  I think it's rare, and painful, and I basically lost the will to live (not suicidal, but lost all ability to imagine a happy future) post breakup.

me: in that blog post i linked

G: it was shattering in a way nothing else has ever been.

me: you are among the "poets, panderers and theorists"

  he forgot an additional kind of person that falls there: fools

G: You're a windblown douchebag who doesn't listen.

  I'm telling you that there's an emotional tie that I don't think you understand

  and I think you're dismissive of that.

  And you should just listen a minute reserving judgment.

me: i thank fate that T is from such an intensely monogamous culture, because in that context it wont be pathological

  you're screwed, though

G: Frank, you're just an asshole. I'm done talking to you.

Guilty as charged. I laughed my head off when he signed off.

My First Lap Dance

About a month ago I drove with B, one of my good friends from college (visiting from DC), down the California coast on the scenic highway 101 to visit our two other former roommates. When we got there and asked what the plan was, they said they were thinking we could go to a strip club. For reference, I was the only one with a girlfriend and B is still a virgin.

It turned out that none of us had been to one. We went to a chain called the Spearmint Rhino. We showed our IDs and paid our twenty dollars. With entrance we got a ticket for a free lap dance. We made some embarassing noob mistakes (not tipping when sitting in the front row of the stage, under-tipping, being generally confused about the process). One of the girls sat next to me and asked if I wanted a lap dance. I nodded to B and said "ask him first". My friend declined and I felt badly for setting her up for rejection, so I assented to a lap dance. It was very erotic. She did it topless and her perfume rubbed off on my face, so that I smelled it for the rest of the night. It was like good foreplay. It lasted the right amount of time and then it was over.

My friends were more choosy and said no to multiple girls because they "didn't find them attractive". I pondered what it must be like to work there. Degrading, but maybe you get used to it and approach it professionally-- I certainly hated waiting tables for similar (less significant) reasons. I saw one of the girls on the floor encouragingly cat call a girl on stage, which totally charmed me. They were obviously mostly students at UCSB. I took a call from L (my girlfriend) and had a conversation in the bathroom, catching up with her on my day so far.

My friends eventually got their lap dances. H came back excited and talking about how much touching she let him get away with (the policy, as stated when we entered, was strictly hands-off). B came back totally ecstatic, looking like his mind was blown (it was a similar expression to the one I must have had after my first blowjob). After taking forever to finally pick a girl, G came back looking sheepish but nonetheless enthused. He'd paid extra for more time or something, and apparently it wasn't gratifying. When he got back we promptly left, since we'd been waiting on him.

I felt a little sorry for all of them-- so starved for sexual contact that they found the experience earth shaking. I mentioned to them later that I could get that at home because I had a girlfriend. I know, kind of a dick thing to say, but I have limited sympathy for their undersexedness. They are all extremely picky. H wants to learn to pick up girls in bars (the "real" way) and refuses to use online dating. His priority is self-betterment, which I suppose is admirable. I just wish I liked his concept of "betterment" more. G spends a lot of time and energy fucking with girls' heads. B has been dating, but he has had an impulse to wait for his first time to be with the girl of his dreams. This seems to have changed recently and I think B is beginning to realize that his inexperience is causing him trouble getting laid and that getting past that first roadblock is essential. So I guess B deserves sympathy. I remember when I had to face that same catch-22. It's a frustrating place to be.