Mark and I have reached the point in our relationship where the newness has finally faded and we've moved into the realm of comfortable bliss. Our days slip by with the quickness of one that is quickly approaching the end. Not to say that we aren't stupidly happy, nor do I mean that the sex has lost it's allure, because let's face the truth, we hump like mad men who have finally been released from prison...a all female prison.
You could say that everything is perfect...
Yet I can't help but think that the other shoe is about to drop...from the top of the Empire State Building right on my pretty little balding head.
I know myself, I do, after all I've lived with this crazy freak for thirty-three years and I am painfully aware of my track record. One of the reasons I've had bad luck in past relationships is I find it difficult to keep my...err...manhood in my pants when faced with temptation. In other words, I have a wandering eye for the pretty men I meet in my life.
What If I stumble
At work, at my hip up-scale restaurant in Palo Alto, I've had my difficulties as well. Mainly from the other servers, servers who for the last two years were my co-workers, my partners in crime, and my equals. And now, because of my recent promotion, I am no longer their equal, now I have to tell them what to do. And I'm finding it a bit hard to balance past friendships with the tedious nature of being responsible for the restaurant. All while trying to maintain a new relationship with Mark, another server who at one time was my equal.
And it's not that he expects special treatment, he does, and it's not that he tries to push the boundaries to find the line, he does, and I'm at my wits end trying to juggle all these things while still doing my job to the best of my abilities. And when I have to put my foot down and say enough is enough, after all, it doesn't take thirty minutes to take a piss, not even with a Urinary Track Infection or some other horrible sexually transmitted disease I am hoping beyond sanity that he doesn't have. And though no one knows about us at the restaurant, he knows, and for some stupid reason can't understand that I won't let him do whatever he wishes.
What If I stumble...
The other day, a server called me aside and asked that I speak to this table that was sitting on the patio. I inquired why, and the server said the guest was quite unhappy that she had found a leaf in her entr?e and was demanding that I take the steak off the final bill.
This stupid bitch demanded to be seated outside, it wasn't like we forced her to sit underneath a fucking tree on a windy day in Palo Alto. Nor did we purposely sit her at a table that attracted some kind of flying insect like bears to honey. She picked the fucking table.
I mean seriously, how fucking stupid can this bitch possibly be? Can you believe she demanded that we comp her check.
What If I stumble...
And to make matters worse, we hired this completely sexy, out and proud gay boy that is the spitting image of my friend Daniel in his younger days, so basically he's a nerd, with glasses to boot, and a narrow ass that begs me to squeeze it with my face.
He doesn't have the hang-ups that Mark clings to like a virgin clings to it's pillow. He's proud to be gay, comfortable even, even in public. And he smart, witty, charming, and dare I say, dead fucking sexy.
What If I Stumble...
And to make matters worse, he has made his intentions quite known to the staff. Remember, no one at work knows about Mark and I, so in the broader sense, he's doing nothing wrong. But this leaves me in quite the pickle, as far as everyone is concerned I'm single and if you ask the staff, in desperate need of some loving.
Then you have Mark, trying in vain to control his jealousy as the nerd chases me with determination that is quite commendable, if I wasn't balancing a jealous boyfriend, friends who won't mind their own fucking business, and a boss that sits back and laughs at the whole damn mess, I'd probably shit myself with laughter.
What If I stumble...
All this and I'm a bit frazzled. I really like Mark...like...fuck that, I told him I loved him this morning before I crawled out of bed to head off to work. And I do, love him that is, and I know I won't jeopardize this for some sexy nerd with glasses or a hot, sweaty, semi-violent one night stand.
But I know how I sabotage my happiness, and I am fearful of this past behavior.
And then, this morning, way before Mark opened his beautiful brown eyes, I lay there, his pale body entwined with mine, the soft snoring that escaped his lips, and the occasional sleep noises he made, brought such comfort that all these fears slipped away and I couldn't help the ravaging of his sleeping body.
While I was in the shower, I couldn't help but laugh at myself. I was so worried about the thousand what-ifs that I had completely forgotten about the things that mattered most. Worrying about stumbling is no way to live a life, because let's face it, everyone stumbles. It doesn't matter that we stumble, all that matters is how we get back up and try it again.
What If I stumble...who fucking cares.