1. fish: un prologue pour le poisson.

Sleep with the fishes they say – and oh boy have I ever. I have zero clue what kind of creature fish is; he’s either a run-of-the-mill fish-with-benefits or I’m accidentally somehow fucking up the early stages of what could be a boyfish. For reasons still unknown – fish has successfully bamboozled a relatively long term and consistent standing in both my iMessages and my anatomy despite all our emotional flip flopping. Luckily yours truly is a special kind of emotionally unavailable, and the fish seems to be as well, so when it’s just us two it’s relatively smooth sailing.

Let’s dive right in shall we, here’s what you need to know to start this next series:

Delayed debut: Fish and I have known of each other since we were about 14. We’ve stood in the same room, without introducing ourselves, countless times. Our social circles cross in weird ways – I’ll write about those as they come up organically in the story. But this is more of that “big city but everyone knows your name” stuff. The people I blame (other than us) for the delayed debut? Our parents. Yes, you read that.

Family familiarity: I’ve met, saw, spoke with, dined, and partied with all of fish’s family members (his parents and 3 siblings), like, more often than a handful. Fish spent hours with my mother almost every single day for 10 years. Yes, you read that.

Business buoy oh buoy: My mother worked for fish’s family-owned business for her entire career in this city. Not to worry though, what you’ll read here takes place after her retirement. Fish, the eldest son, will take over ownership upon his father’s retirement. As a teen I babysat all of the tradesmen’s children.

Peculiar particularities: I don’t know if the proverbial they settled on “opposites attract” or not, but honestly fish and I couldn’t be more different. He’s social calendar is planned out weeks in advance. I fly by the ass of my jeans. He’s immovably independent when life gets hard. I lean hard on my support system including my mom, sisters and friends and colleagues. He shops with coupons or he doesn’t shop at all. I know where the best deals are for things but if I want something – I generally just buy it. He cooks a lot. I fast most days of my life, and eat out a lot. He gets blackout drunk regularly. I drink socially and don’t usually love it. He gets so paranoid when he smokes pot he cant sit still. I smoke pot and you would never know I was high as a kite.

Fish Lips, Facts & Other Features. Fish has a kind face, a contagious smile, and blonde silky hair long enough up top to run your fingers through, and lord jesus it’s soft, but it’s not what I’d describe as long persay, floppy maybe? He’s handsome though in a way total goof sort of way. He’s taller than me, even in heels, so that’s a check. Fish is fit but on the leaner side; when I’m naked with him I feel sort of like a whale. He always smiles with his mouth open and top teeth showing. He dresses well for dates – which I didn’t expect. He’s a Pisces … L-O-fucking-L. His Instagram is full of photos of him fishing, cottaging, bro-ing out, plus like a hundred groomsmen selfies.  He likes cheap beer, uses coupons and cooks one new recipe every week. He’s painfully shy and self deprecates a lot (about things like his couch or his dick size, which is perfectly fine but I digress). There’s zero predictability to his emotional intimacy. He says the nicest things about his dad, he’s super independent, mostly straightforward, financially stable, hard working, and insanely popular. In addition to the excessive drinking, I’ve come to learn that he’ll do mushrooms and cocaine on his “weekends away with the boys”.


The first time I thought I was going to meet fish was at a staff family event.
I was very young, close to 14, and they had arranged a laser tag party for staff and their kids. My mother had told me a fish my age would be in attendance. All I knew was that he was blonde, taller than me, and our parents were friends (ergo, we’re totally betrothed duh, right?) But fish wasn’t there. I ended up spending the night with his three siblings – getting to know them in all of the awkward ways teenagers interact in forced social situations.

My earliest recollection of seeing fish was at a house party years later.
Fish has an unmistakable nickname in real life and I heard someone yelling it loudly. We were maybe 17 and at an absolute rager of a house party. Fish had been dared $20 to drink gutter water pooled by the curbside. I watched in horror as he obliged. And because I’m neurotic my only concern was getting out of his vicinity so it didn’t get back to his dad that an employee’s daughter drinks underage. Yes, you read that right.

My most recent experience with fish was shopping for sheets at Hudson’s Bay.
It’s about as much of a cliffhanger as I can leave you with while also being a succinct example of one of the weird limbo’s of casually dating. Where we are today is best described by the following direct quote I said to my mother: “He’s not my boyfriend; he just wanted to know what duvet cover I liked best.” Did he buy the one I liked? Yes, he did. But who knows – maybe he just really likes my taste in interior décor.

Until next time dear fishies.


2 thoughts on “1. fish: un prologue pour le poisson.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s