un/Finished Business

Yesterday I was going to write about the difference between arrogance and confidence, but it would have taken up too much energy and it wouldn't have really resolved the issue that made the topic an itch that crept into my mind.

But today I have time and energy.

The difference between arrogance and confidence is humility. The ideal that you are human and the ability to acknowledge it. Confidence is knowing who you are and being able to show the world without offending anyone. My friend DJ JD has confidence down pat. He knows who he is and he knows how to shine without blinding a person. When you are around him, you know that he's capable of handling anything that comes his way. He exudes the presence of knowing who he is and presents the world a very amicable vision.

Arrogance is very unappealing to me. Someone who thinks they are more than they really are and doesn't care who they run over isn't someone who wins in the long run. Its one thing for someone to put you on a pedestal and deem you a God or Goddess--at least to that person. But when you put yourself up on one and demand the world bow to you, you're asking for a punishment I think.

So begins the story of Casanta.

For a long time we did telemarketing at the studio. We have two phone lines. One for the studio business and the other for telemarketing and personal calls--that is until 1999 when we got online. Now the second line is for the internet. The second line has one digit different from the local Ford motor Company's phone line. Prior to '99, I got calls daily for Ford. One guy seemed to call often--his voice was distinct and clearly not from around here. There were times when I swore he was flirting with me.

One night in early 98, I was alone, working late on some photo restorations (I didn't start doing digital restoration until 2000) when the second line rang. I figured it was Allen. But it wasn't. It was the distinct voice, calling not for Ford but for me. To make a long story short--he works for Ford Motor Co. in Dearborn MI and at that time he was the eastern Truck sales manager or some title like that. He traveled to my area probably every few months or so. He said that after the first few times he misdialed, that he 'fell in love with my voice' and started misdialing on purpose. He took a chance to see if I happened to be at work. And to his joy I was.

We talked as I worked. I was very flattered that he took an interest in finding out who the woman was behind the voice. And intrigued a little about him. He was divorced, with children in their late teens, lived alone and very much Italian. He floored me when he said he wanted to take me to dinner the next time he was in or close to L'ton. I told him upfront that I was in a serious relationship and was honored that he found me intriguing, but I couldn't go to dinner with him.

It wasn't hard for him to look up the address to the studio, after all when I answer the phone I give the name of our business. I was shocked to find roses waiting on me the next day. And even more shocked to received a card addressed to me with polaroids of Casanta's cock. I laughed at his audacity! I wasn't really impressed with them but didn't let him know it. He called every day to say hi. Luckily I worked in the room where the second line was and answered the phone. Dad always thought it was Allen calling me.

I confess a flirtation developed between Casanta and I, but to me that's all it would ever be. We exchanged addresses and started a flirty letter writing 'relationship.' I managed to keep it on that level--a flirtation. It was tough because he was magnetic.

In June of 98, I fell ill with a serious respiratory illness that lasted until Aug. I have never been so sick in my whole life. Casanta got my home number from one of our employees and he checked on me a few times. I think he thought since I was home and in a private place, some sort of sexual contact would occur as we talked--i.e. phone sex. But it didn't, because I said no. I still believed in my relationship with Allen, even if I wasn't happy with it. I remained faithful. Casanta wasn't happy with my unwillingness to become sexual, even though it was via the phone, email or correspondence. So his phone calls slowly dwindled.

Then the nightmare of November struck and my world changed. When I reached out to Casanta during one of his telephone calls, he suddenly had a meeting to attend. I had naively thought of him as a friend and he wasn't. He let me down. And I still haven't forgiven him. But now that I'm older I don't fault the man--he is who he is.

It wasn't until 2001 that I met him face to face. He had been in Durham on Ford business and was driving down I-95 heading for Florida, when he stopped in. He called and asked me to meet him for a drink at the Holiday Inn. I had broken up with Allen. But I had found another flame--a soldier from Fort Bragg and was serious about him. But I figured a drink wouldn't hurt and it was time to see Casanta in person.

He was all he said he would be--handsome at 49, devilishly wicked and very arrogant. And he thought I was going to fuck him!!! Didn't matter that I was involved with someone. He didn't care. It was all about getting his cock in my mouth, ass and pussy. When I left him sitting at the bar, I don't think he realized that really punctuated my NO!!!!

When I tell someone I love them and they tell me that they love me and we are in a committed relationship--I do not fucking cheat! And I respect it when someone I am attracted to is in a relationship with someone else, I respect that! But Casanta has no respect for that concept--his world evolves around his cock. His self-absorption, ego and blatant disrespect for committed relationships will never garnish respect from me. I view him as shallow.

Eventually our 'friendship' fizzled down to occasional emails and the token Christmas card, which I stopped sending in 2002. In fact the last email I sent him was on Jan 9, 2003--his birthday. He sent me a reply asking if I was ready to fuck him. I didn't reply. Then this Monday, Jan 10, I get an email from him, asking where his birthday email was and if I had a Mr. Wonderful in my life. then he writes that it doesn't matter because we have unfinished personal business to attend too. I laughed my ass off when I read his email. His cock still rules him. I replied yesterday with news of my poetry book and that I was doing well, etc. I made no mention of his content. I wished him a happy birthday and that's about it.

Last night I was downloading tunes. My messenger services automatically log on when I connect online. I usually shut them off but forgot to last night. I get an IM on yahoo messenger--from Casanta. "Are you hiding? I bet you are." I was and replied out of curiosity. Two seconds later, I get a webcam invite from him. I didn't tell him I have a webcam. I accepted and there was his cock--staring at me. The only IM I sent to him once the webcam started was "I see its true--you're a dickhead." Most would recognize that comment for what it was--a slur. But not him. He proceeded to stroke and in less than 10 up and down's of his hand, his cock spit at me. And the screen went black.

I haven't heard from him. Maybe now his business with me is finished.