Pyroclastic Flow

Let's call her Date-O-Man-Trix, or Datomantrix. The first "a" is long.

She is fearless, and first pays heed to her own impulses and desires. She draws from a pool of men whose ages span twenty years. The moment they flake out, and they do flake out, she doesn't mince words or waste time. She pops a sharp, albeit tactful email or text message - which works, except when it doesn't. She has shared some of the reactions with us.

"Who do you think you are?"

"You think you're so great? You're not."

"You crazy bitch! Who needs you!"

"You crazy, fucking whore! Fuck you!"

Et cetera. I used to be surprised at the vitriol. Not so much anymore. Alas, such fragile egos.

The Voice of Reason, says, "They're all crazy."

We burst out laughing. Loud. Yes, another Girls Night In.

Earlier this week, we attended the first Frenchtuesdays party of the year. I felt well enough after the flu-from-hell. Et maintenant, pour quoi pas?

Jean Phillipe and I shared a cab. The Depilitator had arrived before us. The Lieutenant Commander and he lined up glasses of champagne on the bar. My girls arrived ensemble: Hot Momma, Liz Taylor Jr., The Voice of Reason, Prima Downhill, and Datomantrix. Hail, hail.

After un coup ou deux, I wound up in the quieter, back room, sitting eyeball to eyeball with he-who-shaves-too-much. Items:

- Turns out he didn't spend his birthday eve with his girlfriend. When pressed, he admitted, "Well, in the morning..." Ah, the previous night, but of course.

- He wasn't calling me "baby." (Relief?)

- He'd just finished reading T.C. Boyle's World's End. One of my favorites. He liked it (I knew he would). He'd asked for the next recommendation.

-I slipped him Pete Hamill's A Drinking Life. I expect it back. I'm funny about my books. It's as though I've left part of me there - a mark - as I contemplated the writing, reacted to the stories, rubbed a leaf between my fingers pausing, thinking.

In the moment, I'm not always conscious of my motivations. When I think about it later, I figure it out. In that moment, the magma was moving around from the deep, and it wound its way up through an emotional pipe, until it burst through. Sometimes it's little more than a hot lava seep, other times it's a full-bore blast. Right then, it was a seep, and I warmed to an inexorable line of questions.

"Where is your girlfriend?" No answer.

"You've been out with me, with us, for four months now. Why don't you bring her out with you? (Assuming, as he has said, in the past, that he wants to be my "friend.")"

"She wouldn't like you," he said.

Fucking idiot, I thought. A pulse of magma, right under my solar plexus. This woman cannot form her own opinion? Cannot think for herself?

"You haven't given her the choice. Have you? And that's a power move." He just sat there, blank. That again.

Duplicity, deception - these are things of which a friendship is not made. Try forthrightness and time instead.

"You know?" I tried to switch off the heat. "This isn't a conversation we can have here, now. I'm neglecting my friends." They were swirling in the periphery.

"I'm going to leave," he said. But he sat there, took my camera and started to shoot group shots of us. Fine. Fine.

("They're all crazy.")

And then. And then.

Datomantrix was there, standing behind him. I read tipsy in her eyes. She arched her eyebrows, and a smile flickered across her mouth. Then, she placed a hand on either side of The Depilitator's head. When he looked up and leaned back, she swooped down, opened her mouth, and started to kiss him. It looked deep, but someone else touched my elbow and I turned.

But I turned back, amazed. She came up for a breather, looked at me again, and went back down for a second round. When she came up again, she grinned, and then walked away.

He sat there, a stone. In the next minute, he stood, and left.

I didn't follow. I let someone else distract me.

Maybe, just maybe, I let the spell break.

The steam is rising off the lava trail. And my cherished book, my copy of A Drinking Life may wind up incinerated into ashes. A casualty.

Comments

[CJ]

So do tell.....

What's a "sharp, albeit tactful" comment from the datomantrix? Can you give us an example of what she might actually say to provoke such hostile comments?

[Holly Hodder]

Ah, CJ, it's as if you have anticipated the next post, or the post thereafter. For indeed, the Datomantrix is quite the provocateur. Stay tuned.

[GVWonder]

I've been hit by that kissing bandit in the past - she skulks in like a minx, ravages you like a lioness, and disappears like vapor. Everyone should be so lucky.

[Datomantrix]

Yes, stay tuned for more Datomantrix stories. I have a fresh one from last night. To answer an earlier comment, yes, I provoke the responses by calling their bluff. As for GV, I thought that was our little secret....oh how sweet it was. xoxo Lovingly submitted, D.

[Kerndog]

When Magma cools its brittle, hard, lifeless, and not easily walked upon. Over time, surprising little time, it becomes the fertile bed from which all things grow anew...