The Pilgrims' Progress.

Given the vacuousness of my life these days, I have been living vicariously through the lives of others. I have written at length about my friends, Lady M and the Brunette. While I sailed through a succession of chameleons over Saturday and Sunday, each of my gals had an interesting tale to tell. So, in good Chaucerian fashion, I shall relate the progress each of them has made in their lives.

First the Brunette. I am terribly worried. She is pursuing a recently engaged man who has shown no sign of terminating his earlier relationship. The man in question pursues her relentlessly, calls, texts, drops in and generally makes no mystery of his interest. I fear, however, like all Pakistani men, he is going to remain engaged to a girl hand picked by psycho-mommy. The Brunette, however, is no bimbo. I fear she is playing into all of this just to prove to herself that she is still attractive to men. That, I feel, is about the dumbest motivation to have in these matters. I can understand pursuing someone for the sheer lust/chemistry of a situation, even if it's not going to end in a relationship. But pursuit for the sake of proving a point ? In any event it all culminated in near-sex on saturday night. The Brunette decided to call it a day when she got his shirt off. She put on her Manolos, picked up her car keys and departed. Maybe he had saggy tits.

And now on to Lady M. There is some method in her madness. Her objet is single, though he carries some baggage- two ex wives for a start. In any event they agreed to meet saturday night. It all started of well enough. Coffee, drinks, conversation. The talk became personal and he proceeded to discuss his baggage. All 36 Louis Vuitton cases worth. Remember, a Pakistani man would sooner flash than discuss his emotional vulnerability. She went in to make some coffee. He followed. She turned around. He looked at her. "What are you thinking of" he said with a dreamy smile. She froze. Blank. Silence is the Bermuda Triangle of sex- unless there is underlying physical activity. In this case there was nothing. Nada. Zilch. The moment came and went. The Window had shut. He muttered something and said he had to go. Fled down the steps. Then came running back to collect his phone. Ran down again. Poor Lady M had forgotten that the average man needs a little encouragement to avoid date rape/presumptiousness charges. She is smart enough to have seen the window but froze when the moment of truth arrived. She has promised to make amends.

And what, you may ask, was I doing through all this ? I was having dinner with an American, a Brazilian and a Syrian. And though this polyglot gathering I was trying to guide the girls through their evenings with SMS. Not to much avail though. I think I am becoming a homotextual.