Conversation

So an old lefty friend of mine has a girlfriend. He's been really excited for me to meet her for like half a year, and I finally got the chance.

At this point everyone reading the above two sentences knows the flavor of the story, even though I hope that this story will not ever fully unfold.

I see her and...despite her stated age, she has the appearance of a person in their late 40s. She has notable grey streaks in her hair. Wrinkles begin to appear in her face. She is somewhat fat, and the tattoos on her body are prominent. To call her a hag would be overly kind. I am an overly kind sort, so I will refer to her as "Hag" from now on.

Hag begins to talk. The smell of marijuana permeates the air, and I inwardly grimace. She introduces herself, and I, mild-mannered man that I am, jovially shake her hand and introduce myself. Despite her poor physical state, it becomes quickly apparent to me why my old friend has chosen this woman as his partner - she is very easygoing, and it is clear that her personality is one that is the standard mixture between abrasive to people on the right and agreeable to those on the left. Moreover, Hag is independently wealthy, and seeks mostly intelligence in her partners (though she has little of it herself). To this end, she has purchased all of the material possessions that allow her to keep such a partner; 3D printers, board games, and an array of fidget spinners - the allure of which men of intelligence struggle to resist.

That point is the driver of the story. Neither myself nor my friend are physically attractive, but both of us are intelligent men. That said, we both recognize that there is a considerable intelligence gap between us - with me coming out on top.

Me and Hag get along without friction. My friend starts to describe my relationship with him - he praises my intelligence in front of her (this is simply how he always introduces me, for I am the man who taught him the skills he uses in his job today). We break for a little while - I go flirt with a weebish fujo who I am far more interested in, and inwardly lament to find later that she is taken - but later on when we are all in the same room again, it becomes very apparent that Hag is interested in me.

Hag - knowing values of my friend, and believing I share them - starts to talk about herself. Hag talks about her strong desire to not have children, and her very liberal beliefs. She presents herself as a champion of many left-wing beliefs - being sure to exclude feminism, which is the one that she knows is less attractive to men - and she seems confident that she has positioned herself in a spot where she is attractive to the man she believes me to be. Hag offers me alcohol - I decline. This makes her more attracted to me, and she compares this with the behavior of my friend (we are both sober men). Thinking that she has impressed me, she openly talks about how sexually loose she is, and flaunts her sexuality.

Undoubtedly, if I were a left-wing man, the things she said and did would have been quite attractive to me! Before I began to walk with Jesus, this woman would absolutely have been my type. However...Hag's attempts at flirting just sort of fell flat to me. I cannot say that I have found women less attractive than this - I certainly have - but this woman's beliefs and attitudes dropped her well into the bottom decile of women in my view. Regardless, I continue interacting with her peacefully for the sake of my friend.

My friend leaves the room. Hag decides to drop a hint: she starts a discussion about panties. She then asks if I am interested in her panties. I respond reflexively, decicively, and immediately: a very staccato "No." I have not thought about any of the implications of my answer, and the speed and tone in which I have responded makes it apparent to Hag that not only do I not have sexual attraction towards her, but that I do not even recognize her as something that can have sex.

Hag recognizes this, and responds as if she's slightly insulted. The conversation dwindles, and there is a slight tension. My friend comes back a few minutes later, much to my relief, and much of the tension evaporates. Hag begins to cling to my friend and thankfully, all of the attention she had been feeding to me is channeled to my friend. Nobody appears to be upset, but it is clear to me that Hag is slightly disappointed that she has not gotten the bigger prize in her eyes.

The night ends without further incident. I have no doubt in my mind that Hag will cheat on my beloved friend, but I lack the ability to prevent this. I only have the ability to prevent it from being myself who plunges the knife into my friend's back, and this is exactly what I have done.

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