I Need to be More Heartless.

My possibly-schizophrenic mate J invited me out for a drink on Easter Sunday. I was a bit hesitant as he’s always seemed a bit of an oddball character. No-one else was going out so I figured I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. We met in Oast House in Spinningfields, which was rammed as per. We then went to Grand Pacific Bar, a sister bar of Australasia, where I’m pretty sure I saw Kate, the former lap dancer that I was a bit obsessed with a while back (and probably still am). See a range of posts:

The first

The second

The third

The fourth

The fifth

In this post I suggested I might have seen her. I’m pretty sure, in retrospect, that it was her. I think she knows a promo guy that I sort-of know. Even though I really don’t.

But so what? Whole world of women out there, and I’ve proved in the last 12 months that I can get what I want when I apply myself.

And on the issue of applying myself, I need to be around the right people and not the wrong ones. J is a wrong one. I still don’t know whether schizophrenia is his real condition. I’ve met 2 people with the condition, and they were pretty different to J. I came out to meet him on Sunday afternoon, but I just felt tired and worn down. I thought it might be a sleep thing, and he did ask that, but in all honesty my sleep hasn’t been too bad.

We ploughed on through a few more bars- onto Deansgate to Botanist, walking further to the Northern Quarter, dropping into Odd Bar and Cane and Grain where my arse started to release terrible noxious farts, and I joined in with the rest of the patrons in being horrified by the smell, looking around to try to “guess” the culprit.

There was one group of stunning women there. You can’t exactly rock up to them smelling like that though, can you?

J could tell something was amiss. “Is it me?” he asked.

“No!” I said, like he was being ridiculous. But was he?

Eventually, I said that I had had a sore throat for a few days, (true) and that I needed my bed (false). So he thanked me (which he always does, an interesting trait), and went home.

I need to ask SA for an opinion on this. She’s my best female mate and has a medical background, so she might know about that kind of thing. She’s a good judge of character too.

It was almost like he was sapping my energy. We’d struggled to keep a conversation going (a problem I have anyway, but more so with him). I’d asked him if he’d been to this bar or that bar, and the answer was always no. I’d tried asking him about his ambitions and everything, but even though we’re both creative types we couldn’t find a groove. I’d encouraged him to join meetup groups online but his perspective was negative: they tend to be for people younger than him, or they don’t do his kind of thing, or whatever.

I got a second wind after John had gone. Going lone-wolfing can be liberating as you can still pull, but it’s a little harder. It’s isolating as no-one is there to talk to you, and striking up conversations is hard work, but you can go wherever you want and stay as long as you want, provided the doormen let you in. Get suited and booted and you’ll be okay. I went to the members bar and… well, I still didn’t pull. But I felt much better, less self-conscious and less constrained. It was so busy that I nicely blended into the background.

It’s a nice club, but Goddamn it kicks off a lot. It’s really out of character for the place and it shouldn’t happen. One big guy got warned and still ended up getting thrown out.

But anyway. The blog title. I can’t keep coming out with J. I’ve got to humanely ditch him. I’m tempted just to outright block him, but he’ll still pop up here and there on some other social media site. And I’m too shy to have a brutal conversation with him and say, “we just don’t have that much in common.” I’m probably just gonna fob him off. But I still want to put ideas on Facebook for nights out and see what’s happening, and I know he’s going to comment saying he’s free. It’s fortunate that he’s not too bothered about the meetup groups.

It’s a problem I’ve had my whole life- I’ve flitted from group to group with friends. I’ve got high standards and I don’t like being fucked about. He’s had his chance, and I’ve listened to my instincts. I’m through with him, despite he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just dodgy. I am going to be one cold motherfucker from now on.

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