fools' dialogue

whoa. i'm going to keep this one short, but i have to mention that i went to the "3rd World DJ Festival" this weekend.
what the hell? it was a fucking *rave*. ridiculous.
i had fun dancing my ass off like i usually do, but oh boy, did this bring back memories from over a decade ago.

random costumes: lions and tigers and bears
oh my! is that a sexy nurse?
and a lot of shirtless boys walking around
flexing their muscles
glow sticks everywhere--in hands, around necks and wrists, twisted up in hair
stuffed animals
helter skelter dancing
passed out boys and girls
lips on cheeks and lips and hugs and
bright lipstick and eyeshadow glitter and
free love everywhere, honeys!

i felt a little old--though there were people my age there. i just couldn't believe i accidentally ended up @ a rave. it was *interesting* and some kinds of fun, certainly, but i don't know if i would've gone intentionally had i realized what it was. there were 10s of thousands of people there.
i haven't been to an outdoor party of this kind and this scope since high school. no drugs though (as far as i could see), but a LOT of soju and alcohol and drunk people. i stayed sober and just admired the phenomenal spectacle of it all.

i guess i could talk more about the party itself, but i've already described my "rave" experiences and blah blah a lifetime ago. so i'll just tell a terribly dumb story. there was alcohol, me in a cute dress, and a terribly drunk young man:
"baby, you're so beautiful." "baby, you're the only woman for me" (this is about 4 minutes into our conversation. i played along b/c he was making me laugh.)

"can i just love you? will you let me just love you?"
love me? you're drunk.
"i'm not drunk. i swear. can't you just let me love you?"
fine. sure sweetie, you can love me.

i really wondered how long this conversation would go. i went along w/ it b/c i was tired from dancing and was entertained by his persistence:
"baby, can i be honest w/ you? i really like you."
like me? you don't even know me. i could be a total bitch and you would have no idea.
"i can tell you're not a bitch"
how? tell me right now.
"i really like you... c'mon. stop laughing. look into my eyes. you really understand me."
i understand you? i understand that you're drunk.
"i swear, i'm not drunk."
you're going to wake up tomorrow and feel ridiculous about what you remember from this conversation.
"baby. i won't. b/c i really like you."
again, you don't even know me.
"i do know you. i get you. stop laughing."
tell me my favorite color. and again. you're going to have to remove that hand from my ass.
"i can see it in your eyes."
ahahahahaha!! you can see *what* in my eyes?
"that you get me. that you understand me."
i understand that you're drunk and horny.

i couldn't tell him to fuck off b/c he was friends of friends' friends. and, it was a non-threatening situation that really made me laugh.
the surrealness of the setting and the slutty diarrhea that came out of his mouth made me feel like i was in a very bizarre dream. at some point, i said that and told him i would write about him, but i had had enough.
i've written about these kinds of conversations before, but every time i sit down to do it, it feels like deja vu. women are amazing, and i'm sure some men are, but why do i keep on having these creepy man-whore interactions? is it something that i'm putting out there? am i just a magnet for dirty disgusting men? i suppose y'all can say i shouldn't even engage, but this is field study for me.

dragging him back to the group of our mutual friends, i sat him down on one side of the group and made my way to the other side. but he edged back on over:
"girl, i just want to spend some time w/ you. you know, you're a woman, i'm a man..."
i don't know what you're getting at for sure, but i'm hoping for all things decent, you're not saying what i think you're saying.
"girl, i live in Sinchon too. you wanna go back to my place?"
huh? excuse me? for what exactly? tell me right now.
"you know for what. do i have to explain it to you?"
i'm asking you to, b/c i'm hoping you're going to backpedal. i cannot believe we're having this conversation.
"baby, you're just so beautiful."
you've told me. thank you for your many compliments, but please know that you're not going to get any from me tonight.
"girl, i could fuck that shit up."
uh? huh?! tell me what that means?
"baby, you know what that means."
please tell me that you're saying you could beat my ass.
"you're really not going to let me love you?"
i turned to face him directly. i looked deeply into his eyes and gently touched the side of his face: sweetie. baby. darling. let me tell you something very clearly, b/c you are very drunk and i don't know if something is not connecting properly. are you ready? (he nodded.) please know that there is not even the remotest possibility that i would even kiss you. not even the smallest part of me is interested in getting into bed w/ you. and honestly, i've been pretty nice and have played along, but i'm really not planning to sit next to you after i'm done w/ this sentence.

fucking cartoons. these guys are fucking cartoons.