Sores/Sour and other associations - what's Aesop got to do with it

I don't know whether you know Aesop's famous fable of the Fox and the Grapes, but I believe it's related to my previous post…

This is how the tale goes:

The Fox and the Grapes

One hot summer's day a Fox was strolling through an orchard till he came to a bunch of Grapes just ripening on a vine which had been trained over a lofty branch. "Just the thing to quench my thirst," quoth he. Drawing back a few paces, he took a run and a jump, and just missed the bunch. Turning round again with a One, Two, Three, he jumped up, but with no greater success. Again and again he tried after the tempting morsel, but at last had to give it up, and walked away with his nose in the air, saying: "I am sure they are sour."

It is easy to despise what you cannot get.

Being a happily married woman for fifteen years and a day, the kisses and the grapes must stay beyond the material grasp...

some reflections based on the "club episode"

I would resume the dance bar experience stating that there was no place to seat or dance, the place was overcrowded and people drunk there lots of alcohol.

Back at the office I asked some members of the younger generation if they enjoyed that kind of outing and they answered that (a) in order to be in the mood it is mandatory to drink a minimal amount of alcohol (b) the main objective of being at these places is to meet members of the opposite sex and (c) they DO NOT REALLY enjoy these outings…
A female coworker told me that one of the main attractions of this sort of entertainment is that you know "how the outing begins, but not how it ends", i.e., you never know with whom you are going back home…

[!!!@@@@&&&&!!! – SIN PALABRAS – NO COMMENT – BLANK ]

It took me a few minutes to process this info, but then I thought that I would NOT consider even kissing a stranger … let's see, he is a stranger after all, I do not know anything about him, we have not been properly introduced, HE might have [oral] HERPES, for evens sake ! …

[I have the feeling that I am a kind of "slow starter" for these adventures],

Let's see… mmmm, imagine I kiss the barman or the guy with the intense glance and enjoy the experience… then I get home and my lips began to feel sore, what happens next? Besides, the sexiest guys are the ones that kiss often many women, so, statistically speaking, the odds of them incubating herpes would be higher; maybe I should consider asking him in advance whether he is a "safe kisser", or, else, try to look closely into his lips texture in order to find traces of something "fishy"(literally speaking... )

A certain feeling of stress and uneasiness is getting me now, I do not really think this is the kind of anticipation excitement that characterizes a pre-kissing mood… I am beginning to think that I would NOT enjoy kissing a stranger in a dance bar after all…

light, noise, glasses and other misfortunes

Once directed to the bar I managed to climb over the high stools and seat, not without avoiding to catch the fingers of Sharon, who was seated to my left…

A splendid barman handed us over two menus which I hardly managed to read due to the faded light and extremely small text (at this stage I had no other option but taking off my glasses in order to be able to decode beverages types and prices…).

Sharon ordered an alcoholic drink, while I opted for a familiar bottle of mineral water, which I eventually succeeded to get from the (shocked) barman in spite of the poor light and sound conditions….

Our next mission was to make contact with other company members that were supposed to be there !

Although we arrived half an hour after the time set for the party, Sharon was NOT surprised of the fact that we were the first ones to arrive. Now we started sending SMS messages to the missing persons. This is the first time I really appreciated the fact that my cell had an SMS service, since handling a "normal" telephone or live conversation at the club was IMPOSSIBLE. Our friends sent us a message saying that they were "coming in 5" [that is: coming in five minutes time], to which I answered: K [at this point I felt VERY PROUD OF MYSELF and thanked a million my 12 years boy for sending all those encrypted messages to his virtual friends while playing virtual games on the computer… KK means "double OK".

The rest of the party arrived after a while and, they all ordered vodka and beer, held to them in HUGE recipients. At this point sharonnie seemed to be rather satisfied and happy enjoying the music, and so seemed to be the other guys that were chatting behind us… A guy sitting in front of mine exchanged with me an intensive glance and Sharon said that in Europe the average age of the pub visitors is much higher [old Europe, again, it has been a while since I visited one of its local clubs populated with amiable women and older intellectual guys… ]. I commented that on this poor light nobody will notice our real age (I always believe in POSITIVE THINKING) and Sharon replied that she was not so sure…

visiting on a Tel-Aviv dance bar

Having fun in a pub at your forties…

Being a mature woman at her forties I am not used to go out and visit pubs or clubs…

Yesterday night I had the good fortune [and anthropological experience] of visiting one of those modern [and noisy] places accompanied by my younger friend, co-worker, companion, and anthropological guide [savior maybe]: SHARONNIE…

We decided to meet on a "dance bar" called Banks, located on the heart of Tel Aviv, where we were supposed to part from one of our colleagues who decided to leave the company and depart to his quarterly surfing vacations to some Caribbean/Brazilian exotic islands…

(on parenthesis I would add now that the prospect of having quarterly vacations on some exotic island is COMPLETELY remote from any vacation notion that I might have, being a mother of two boys aged 12th and 10th and devotedly committed to my domestic chores… )

Sharonnie came to pick me up from my drawing/painting lesson on a cab and we arrived together to the club (on the way we had a typical vivid Israeli style conversation with the cab driver who complained about Tel-Aviv girls who are not "friendly" to strangers, in contrast to European young woman who supposedly open their arms to any man who approaches them… )

Upon arriving to the place, Sharon entered self secured and assertively a local which I believed to be a simple BLACK WALL… I followed her… (as from this very instant she became my GUIDE… )

The place was packed with people and smoke and we were seated at the bar.

existential issues

On this blog I intend to approach the main existential issues of life that concern today the average intellectual western women/mother/daughters.