Jack Hoff

It has been a long while since my last post. I set internet dating aside and spent some time focusing on my friends, family, travel and home owning. I am still single and it has been quite a while since my last date. Since my last post there have been a couple of moments that have been bloggable. This one starts on a quiet night in.

Leading up to this story it was a mostly unmemorable night. I was letting brain cells die off as I absent-mindedly watched an episode of Downton Abbey (because I can be that kind of exciting). I was considering the portrayal of a 1920s dispute between a married couple and wondering where today's gentleman are hiding when I got a knock at the door.

This isn't a typical night for me. I am usually out and about visiting others or doing something (for example, dancing) and I rarely get unexpected visitors. At the time I lived in a top floor unit in a complex in suburban Australia. It was a building with practical rather than aesthetic qualities. The rent was cheap and the tenants were interesting. I didn't mind the place and I had very few problems with my neighbours in my time there. I would say hello to them in the car park and pretend that the occasional weed plant in the main garden did not exist. Each neighbour politely returned the courtesy.

So there was a knock on my door. When I opened the door, it was my neighbour from the unit directly below. He stated that he had been baking and had some left-over special choc chip biscuits if I would like them. The special part of those biscuits was probably the same kind of special that gave him the worst case of bloodshot that I have ever seen. He was completely baked, so to speak. Being the polite "be nice and non-judgemental towards my neighbours" type of person that I make an effort to be, I thanked him and began tying up the conversation. I clearly had important plot lines to follow and meaningful questions to ponder with relation to Downton.

Now in saying I did not really have any problems with my neighbours, in all the interesting that they were, interesting things happened from time to time. On a birthday I was left 6 eggs, all with faces drawn on them. Creepy and sweet, all at the same time (actual birthday eggs pictured below).

Getting back to the story, I was about to close the door on my neighbour when he stated that he had one more question for me. By this point I was struggling with my cat who was no longer happy to be held and wanting to dash out into the night. In hind sight, shutting the fly wire door and letting go of her would have made things more comfortable, but it was also my excuse to wrap things up. Continuing to be polite I asked him what the question is.  When his response was an awkward "would you like to watch me jack off in front of you?" surprise and shock were the most prominent feelings in response!

My first thought was "You have got to be kidding. I mean, really?!". My actual response was a polite smile and a "no, thank you". To try and dissipate some of the awkward that clung to the air I soon followed that up with "I've just started seeing someone and I don't think they would appreciate it". This of course was a complete lie. The only visitor I had visiting me was a girlfriend who joined me for the latest episode of Game of Thrones once a week. I guess being out often backed up the story enough to make it believable. He accepted my decline and we both went back to our separate lives.

I am well aware that the simple "no, thank you" was more than adequate as a response to his question. Hell, I could have slammed the door in his face and called the police and it would not have been unreasonable. I have become so accustomed to managing situations out of left field in my working life that my primary response is always "let's minimise this awkward". 

I had a number of questions to ponder once I returned to the couch (and these weren't drawn from the world of Downton). What kind of person thinks that it is acceptable to ask that of a stranger? He has guts, I'll give him that. Either that or he completely lacks the capacity to think through the possible outcomes of any action (and given his state of mind it is probably the latter). Does he really think that works? Maybe it has worked for him before? What kind of woman accepts an offer like that? Do I really look like that kind of woman? Needless to say, there were a lot of questions.

My next move was to discreetly text and call all of my closest friends and inform them of the night's events (he's not a client so there is no need for confidentiality with this one). Let's face it, this kind of offer doesn't come around all the time. I will give him something though, at least he asked. Acting first and asking later would have been a whole other level of creepy and awkward.

At the end of the night I concluded that the gentlemen of today are still around. I just need to change my definition of gentlemen. Instead of politely requesting that an argument with their long-term wife is postponed until tempers are eased (the scene from Downton), occasionally they now come knocking on your door. Sometimes they leave eggs with faces on them, other times they offer to demonstrate how they can fertilise yours for you. Call my picky, but in cases like this I prefer to go without.