Poly

She told me she was polyamorous and a swinger even though I hadn't asked. Gross, I thought. Great, I said. Me, I can't find even one I like enough to hang around let alone poly. It's a new world, I guess. God bless all-a-yuns. 

I went back to the place last night. A couple of weeks ago, my experience there was nearly magical. Which is to say I had a good time. In fact, I think there have actually been three good times. It was exactly the same place featuring many of the same faces. This time there was also a bulldog who seemed to like the way I pet her around the ears. She hung out with me as long as I was feeding her pizza crusts. Relationships are transactional, I'm hip. I know some of the people there by name now. The bartender knows my name. I'll be a regular soon. 

But the portal I seemed to have walked through before which transformed the mundane to magic was nowhere to be found. I felt mildly uncomfortable and that gradually shifted in the direction of moderately. I became annoyed and avoidant. And at 10:30pm, I felt noticeable relief walking out the door and heading home. Something told me it was over.