The Other Woman?
'The Other Woman is the one I hate,
The Other Woman is the one despised,
I looked in the mirror and sadly realized,
The Other Woman is me of late!'
It is no secret how dire the situation is in Cairo. The chance, or let me use a better word, probability of finding an arrangement that has any promising potential is close to zero (the position of nothing?).
I think it is this absence of the sense of possibility that is most disheartening for everyone.
It creates this feeling of claustrophobia and unmitigated bitterness.
I remember sending a message to a particular gentleman whose credentials included a overtly sized penis and thus enabling him to pick and choose among as many partners as he pleases. However, this gentleman was not content in this position of being only acknowledged for his equine genitalia and insisted on adding the qualities of 'rational thought' and 'intellect' to his 'profile'.
So when I sent him a message exalting the virtues of a generous endowment, he dismissed me on the grounds of age and an undue 'fairy-ness'.
He was man's man, and he liked his 'men' rough.
What chance did an faux-intellectual fairy have?
To his credit though, he expressed his admiration for my laudable efforts in 'attempting' to be a writer. He found it interesting and also lamentable that he was not given the gift of 'self-expression'.
To which I answered, I would flush self-expression down the toilet any day if I could be a rough, man's man.
It will not be the first time where the only virtue I am praised for is my verbal competence. I long for the days when I could still get 'innocence' and 'civility' as qualities to be admired.
Now its just verbal competence; 'you are kind of a writer, aren't you?'
So when in a Christmas party another gentleman showed remote interest, I wasted no time in gulping down my vodka and cornering him in the bathroom of my host. An experience in which his reaction was, 'but you look too innocent to behave in such a wanton manner!'. That of course elicited my famous shrill, evil laugh, that even I find offensive.
Not the one to shy away from sharing those experiences, I was relating the incident to Kiki and lo and behold, its her moment to judge the most self-righteous bitch on the scene (me that is), 'well honey, he is married with kids!' she said in venomous tones that little concealed her exhilarated sense of victory.
There it was, I was the Other Woman. The one everyone hates.
It was futile to try to defend myself, 'the damage is done' as Kiki said, 'you are just like everyone else, no better'.
How am I supposed to know that he is married? Should I run an ID check for people I plan to kiss?
Or even better I should hire a detective to screen potential sex partners!
As if they are that many anyway!
Little did I know that Fate had another 'verheiratet' gentleman to toss along my way.
I was to play to the role of the 'Other Woman' yet again.
My other married gentleman was not even that handsome. A German by birth, he was no stranger to Cairo and his profile clearly states: 'Ich bin glücklich verheiratet und suche hier wirklich keinen Sex !! (translating into: I am happily married and I am not looking for any kind of sexual activity here).
Now my German is less than basic but I can recognize the words, happily and married in any language.
I was bored and basking in the glory of my existentialist ennui when he sent me a message with a wink. I put on little resistance and lured by the fact that he was very close in proximity, I decided to go meet him.
His profile picture does him great justice, but unfortunately reality does not.
His kissing was awkward at best, his physique unappealing and his conversation pleasant bordering on cloyed sweetness.
Yet in one particular area -or rather organ- he did not disappoint, very German in that sense. He was even circumcised. Making me the only person in the world who was intimate with more circumcised German men than anyone else!
After a real face-to-face encounter, I explained, 'I am in no mood to be intimate' and he superficially consented to not engage in anything specifically sexual. And we actually ended up discussing his decade old marriage. Ironic I know.
However, complete apathy on my part, resulted in being 'disrobed' and him 'sleeping' with me.
There was no unbridled passion, or urges I could not resist. This was not the man of my dreams and the only thing stopping me from sleeping with him is the little annoying fact that he is married to someone else.
It was none of that.
It was banal and boring.
Mediocre at best.
And I was dumbfounded, how could something so evil be so banal?
There was nothing grand or awe-inspiring about it. There was none of the Nietzschean drama of going against the limitations of ethics and the shackles of morality. There was none of that.
There was just me being too lazy to act up against what I believe to be morally detestable and personally abominable.
I became the other woman. Not in the fabulous 18th C sense of Madame de Pompadour or the feminist reworking of the term 'slut'.
There was nothing radical or subversive about it, there was nothing emancipatory about it.
It was dull and uneventful.
Exacerbating my own personal agony. I didn't even struggle. I just let it happen.
I miss being impassioned about a moral cause. Nihilism is frightfully dull.
The Other Woman is the one despised,
I looked in the mirror and sadly realized,
The Other Woman is me of late!'
It is no secret how dire the situation is in Cairo. The chance, or let me use a better word, probability of finding an arrangement that has any promising potential is close to zero (the position of nothing?).
I think it is this absence of the sense of possibility that is most disheartening for everyone.
It creates this feeling of claustrophobia and unmitigated bitterness.
I remember sending a message to a particular gentleman whose credentials included a overtly sized penis and thus enabling him to pick and choose among as many partners as he pleases. However, this gentleman was not content in this position of being only acknowledged for his equine genitalia and insisted on adding the qualities of 'rational thought' and 'intellect' to his 'profile'.
So when I sent him a message exalting the virtues of a generous endowment, he dismissed me on the grounds of age and an undue 'fairy-ness'.
He was man's man, and he liked his 'men' rough.
What chance did an faux-intellectual fairy have?
To his credit though, he expressed his admiration for my laudable efforts in 'attempting' to be a writer. He found it interesting and also lamentable that he was not given the gift of 'self-expression'.
To which I answered, I would flush self-expression down the toilet any day if I could be a rough, man's man.
It will not be the first time where the only virtue I am praised for is my verbal competence. I long for the days when I could still get 'innocence' and 'civility' as qualities to be admired.
Now its just verbal competence; 'you are kind of a writer, aren't you?'
So when in a Christmas party another gentleman showed remote interest, I wasted no time in gulping down my vodka and cornering him in the bathroom of my host. An experience in which his reaction was, 'but you look too innocent to behave in such a wanton manner!'. That of course elicited my famous shrill, evil laugh, that even I find offensive.
Not the one to shy away from sharing those experiences, I was relating the incident to Kiki and lo and behold, its her moment to judge the most self-righteous bitch on the scene (me that is), 'well honey, he is married with kids!' she said in venomous tones that little concealed her exhilarated sense of victory.
There it was, I was the Other Woman. The one everyone hates.
It was futile to try to defend myself, 'the damage is done' as Kiki said, 'you are just like everyone else, no better'.
How am I supposed to know that he is married? Should I run an ID check for people I plan to kiss?
Or even better I should hire a detective to screen potential sex partners!
As if they are that many anyway!
Little did I know that Fate had another 'verheiratet' gentleman to toss along my way.
I was to play to the role of the 'Other Woman' yet again.
My other married gentleman was not even that handsome. A German by birth, he was no stranger to Cairo and his profile clearly states: 'Ich bin glücklich verheiratet und suche hier wirklich keinen Sex !! (translating into: I am happily married and I am not looking for any kind of sexual activity here).
Now my German is less than basic but I can recognize the words, happily and married in any language.
I was bored and basking in the glory of my existentialist ennui when he sent me a message with a wink. I put on little resistance and lured by the fact that he was very close in proximity, I decided to go meet him.
His profile picture does him great justice, but unfortunately reality does not.
His kissing was awkward at best, his physique unappealing and his conversation pleasant bordering on cloyed sweetness.
Yet in one particular area -or rather organ- he did not disappoint, very German in that sense. He was even circumcised. Making me the only person in the world who was intimate with more circumcised German men than anyone else!
After a real face-to-face encounter, I explained, 'I am in no mood to be intimate' and he superficially consented to not engage in anything specifically sexual. And we actually ended up discussing his decade old marriage. Ironic I know.
However, complete apathy on my part, resulted in being 'disrobed' and him 'sleeping' with me.
There was no unbridled passion, or urges I could not resist. This was not the man of my dreams and the only thing stopping me from sleeping with him is the little annoying fact that he is married to someone else.
It was none of that.
It was banal and boring.
Mediocre at best.
And I was dumbfounded, how could something so evil be so banal?
There was nothing grand or awe-inspiring about it. There was none of the Nietzschean drama of going against the limitations of ethics and the shackles of morality. There was none of that.
There was just me being too lazy to act up against what I believe to be morally detestable and personally abominable.
I became the other woman. Not in the fabulous 18th C sense of Madame de Pompadour or the feminist reworking of the term 'slut'.
There was nothing radical or subversive about it, there was nothing emancipatory about it.
It was dull and uneventful.
Exacerbating my own personal agony. I didn't even struggle. I just let it happen.
I miss being impassioned about a moral cause. Nihilism is frightfully dull.
Comments
Please feel free to comment! As you naturally figured out, my Cairo is the one of Egypt. Not Georgia or New York.
And you guessed right also, I am not a woman :)
I chose a female alter ego as a tongue-in-cheek way of writing. But this blog is about the gay community in Cairo and the misadventures my 'eccentric morbid queen' faces.
Thanks for your advice ;)
don't act all innocent here hehehehe
beautiful stranger approach work only with whores and me for sure ( u got urself just into it writing this post )
love u no matter how much u judge me and how much i judge u back ( as a matter of fact this will not be the first nor the last time )
and wish u all the best in ur life
sure if not taken oops i said it out load
xoxoxoxo