Friday, July 02, 2004
Service: * * *
Food: * *
Ambience: * *
Babe Count: * * * *
Chantal V is flying to London this afternoon to meet her new boyfriend's parents. She's an old flame of mine who I inexplicably dumped some years ago. She contacted me recently after seeing my name in Fair Lady magazine, and we agreed to meet.
I've been wracking my brain to work out why on earth I broke it off with her. She's prime babeage. Only thing is, she smokes. Strange thing is that I simply cannot remember that she was a smoker. I do recall that when we started dating, she was earning about eight times more than me, and I felt intimidated and outclassed. I suspect also that our dating was a victim of a strict rule I apply to myself... don't date clients. (The company she worked at in those days was a client of a web design house I co-owned with a buddy of mine.)
When I picked her up this afternoon in my rental car, it was from her mansion in Camps Bay. You don't need to know much about Cape Town to understand that Camps Bay is one of the most desired areas in the world. I don't even want to imagine how much her house must have cost.
I thought I was way over this stuff of being outclassed. But there must be some residual bit of self-image crud sitting in me that needs work. I'll have to tackle this with Zahava next Thursday in therapy. Because sitting here in the News Cafe at the airport, catching up on what's intervened during the years, I feel relieved that she's committed to someone else, and that she's not available for me to hit on. I'm a tad intimidated, and STILL feel like I'm outclassed. Odd. Distinctly odd.