Showing posts with label Metz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Metz. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Responsibility

Responsibility [rɪˌspɒnsəˈbɪlɪtɪ]*
n pl -ties
1. The state or position of being responsible
2. A person or thing for which one is responsible
3. The ability or authority to act or decide on one's own, without supervision

*Within the realms of http://www.thefreedictionary.com that is.

I didn't blog about it in particular, but I used to work at the Metz & Co. Not to pretend to know much about it, but it's a fashion department where the worldly top-class brands find their way through this 7 floor level, artfully decorated building. It's a beautiful store, centered in the heart of Amsterdam – which looks lovely from the view in the restaurant on the sixth floor. A floor I used to walk on during the weekends.

I never intended to depart my part-time job as a salesman in fashion, but I had more important things to do. Things like -at the time- having fun on vacation.

I could bring my vacation to an end and start working (as I was scheduled in), or I could choose to continue my vacation and quit my job. "Why then quit your job?" you might ask yourself. "Because I don't like to place myself in a position of having to ask my supervisor such ridiculous favors (i.e. not working, but partying)" is what I would tell you. Of course I could have come up with an excuse (I have a fever, I have exams, I am pregnant and I can think of 27 other reasons), yet an honest man has nothing to fear.

And just like any honest man -in a position as fortunate as mine- would do, I quit my job and partied on. (For the record, I don't necessarily need to work; I do it not to get bored). When I told my mother I am no longer in the so-called fashion-business, because I wanted to prolong my vacation, she was disappointed in me. And how could she not? After all, "a real man -a real alpha male that is- doesn't quit his job, just because he wants to party. That is immature. It is not an act of responsibility" one might even argue.

True as that apparent notion may be on logical grounds, not all apparent notions are logically true. The state or position of being responsible -as the first definition of responsibility implies- could might as well be perceived as an internal state or position of being responsible to yourself. Perhaps my inner state informed me that -at that time- I had to stay on vacation and party instead of working like the working man does. Maybe at that time, I wanted to have fun with girls in hotels instead of passively observe other guy's girlfriends at the third floor of the Metz. (For the record, guys generally don't appreciate it when you flirt with their girlfriend). Indeed, at that time, it was my responsibility to party like a rockstar rather than to work. "Is that irresponsible?" The answer to that question depends on how one measures the concept.  

The ability or authority to act or decide on one's own, without supervision is yet another definition that enlightens the reader. My mother calls me irresponsible because I prefer to party rather than to work. But am I not acting in accordance with the aforementioned? Without supervision is not the same as without command. If my supervisor can influence me to work -which is part of the job-description of a supervisor-, than it is not solely me who chooses to work. Rather, I am “forced” by an external source -in this case my supervisor-. Obviously not forced in the physical sense of the word, but 'force' is -as well as 'responsibility'- a word susceptible to a wide scale of interpretations.

This is how I think about responsibility. It's one of the -perhaps nonconstructive- consequences of being open-minded. Sometimes open-minded people become too much open-minded and start to think they are rulers of destiny… and that nothing seems significant.

Or perhaps open-minded people are just not responsible? Who knows...

Monday, September 20, 2010

Latin borrel x Exchange party

I should apologize for the lag in posts. work has overwhelmed me during the week, and I've indeed spend both my weekdays and weekends enjoying my social life. I've literally had to choose between going on dates and writing a blog-post a couple of times. I think you understand why I chose the former.

Notwithstanding, some words have to be stated regarding two particular events. as with many distinctive social situations, the two were in fact interrelated. I'm talking about the infamous Latin borrel, followed by one of the best nights of partying I've had in a long time: Exchange party @ Club Home.

The great thing about this Latin borrel was that it reminds me of vacation. 90% of the crowd was from overseas -US, Eastern Europe and Spain, to name but a few- which makes them automatically more open-minded and adventurous. I wouldn't be me if I didn't exploit that characteristic, so for all night we were gaming like CRAZY!! I seriously think I talked to all people there.. but all that talking makes us thirsty, so we had to do what we do best.. ASD.
After some shots the game was on like wildfire! I got some phone numbers -this time from girls that I actually want to call-, a few kisses here and there and I even managed to set up a date for my friend! but what kind of friend would I be if I didn't get a date for myself.. ;)

So two days later I call this girl, we meet up, we try to have a "civilized" date, but the attraction is just too strong and within a few minutes we are exchanging tongue.

This girl is a great kisser, a LOT of sex-appeal, seductive eyes; my type -a nice polite little girl, a little bit slutty but not too slutty to be a whore-.

We play the text-game the days after (I send her a text-message, a couple hours later she sends me a text -as if she didn't read it the moment I send it, but whatever- I text her, she texts me and so it goes on).

Somehow the text-game turns into another date and we decide to go to the Exchange party, which takes place in Club Home on Saturday.

I'm very excited! "I'll probably get laid this Saturday" I think to myself while reading the text-message. however, I don't want to enter the club together with her (as if we are boyfriend and girlfriend), so I text her that I'll meet her inside. "I'll see you inside the club. destiny will bring us together ;)", I text her in an effort to sound mysterious.

So it's Saturday night and I'm feelin' right (just like the song). I see a lot of people standing in line of Club Home.. it's gonna be a crowded night.. I'm there with the best wingmen I could ever wish for: G., J., R., M. and R.

At this point, the night is still young -as are many of the girls standing in the queue- so we allow some alcohol in our system. as I'm drinking the Martini (yes it's a girls drink, fuck it) I realize that the length of the line is more than ridiculous.. I estimate the average duration of standing in the queue at 50/60 minutes. luckily for us we befriended management. we stood in queue for no longer than 5/6 minutes.

Once we entered the venue, the game was once again on like wildfire! not to be too descriptive, but it was on.. DHV.
As I'm dancing with this one girl, I realize that it wouldn't be in my best interest if my date would "catch" us and see me like this (me grinding and dirty dancing with another girl), so I abruptly leave my dance-partner and walk towards the bar to check the inbox of my phone.

As expected, my date send me a text-message. as unexpected, I'm reading: "The bouncer won't let us in for safety reasons, the club is too full.. I call you tomorrow. have fun! x"

"Fuck, I won't get laid tonight" I think to myself.

But destiny has a way of its own. so I continue doing what I do best; enjoying myself no matter what, no matter where. as I'm walking back towards my friends, I suddenly see another girl eye-fucking me. I realize that this is a classic case of eye-fucking rather than eyeballing. eyeballing means that a girl is fairly checking you out, while eye-fucking means that her body is screaming sex.

Naturally I responded to her signals and I approached her. we didn't talk much, we didn't even dance that much, we were just kissing the whole time. and normally when you kiss a girl for the first time, it's usually not longer than a full minute. but we kissed non-stop for about 10/20 minutes. not that it's a problem for me, but I couldn't catch a breath.. really I couldn't breathe properly because of the wild movements of her tongue.

"Kissing is just the beginning of sex" I told her. "I like to kiss you too" she said.. (haha that's the funny thing about talking to people in nightclubs, you can't hear a thing ;p). given the fact that words are irrelevant at this point -the point whereby only body-language counts-, I took her hand, leading the interaction to the point of taking her back to my place.

We fucked.

Don't mind the words. I could have written that we made love, but that would be a lie; we fucked. there's a big difference between the two. I did put on some music though, to create some sort of "romantic" atmosphere.

And the music did made all the difference... it woke up my mother...

So while this girl from Club Home and myself did what we did, my mother start knocking on my bedroom-door, telling me to turn off the music. hahaha it was pretty damn awkward.

After the sex -correction: after fucking (I must stay consistent ;)- I drove her back to her place, as the gentleman I supposedly am.

The next morning my date (the one that didn't get in) sends me a text-message: "Hey!! how was the party? x"

I still didn't reply.