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Commenter Pusifer (most excellent handle) wonders how a man with a lavish taste for wanton love sheds his accumulated bedroom company.
CH: “One six month stretch I had tore my way through fifteen women”
How do you get rid of them after?!
Some drifted away, some left purposefully, some cried on my porch, some stormed off angrily. Some texted forlornly, but got no reply at all.
A lesson for the ladies: if a man’s heart isn’t ready to merge completely with another, it will be a high hill to climb to convince him otherwise.
This illustrates two big advantages of prowling a densely populated sexual market.
- Submersion into the Bangborg. It’s harder to bump into former lovers from among a sea of worker drones and have that awkward “wow so what have you been up to since we last….saw each other?” convo.
- If on the off chance you do bump into a past or present plate, there’s an unspoken assumption between atomized hedonists that this is just the way things are in this place we mutually inhabit but separately share. You may fuck me one night, and forget me the next, and I may do likewise, and it would be very gauche of either of us to lament this lay of the land like some sentimental fool.
This also illustrates the one big disadvantage of dating in the bangopolises: if you’re looking for love you can count on, get ready for an adventure that likely won’t end the way you want.
So to answer Pusifer’s question more pithily: the women never left, they just faded to gray.