The last time I wrote I spoke of the “three month curse”. And one night later all did NOT fall into blissful place. For the first time in my life I had a man to kiss and hold me on New Year’s Eve, and instead of it being wonderful it was suffocating. I was having doubts about everything. We didn’t even spend the night together. He dropped me off and sped away before I even got to my stoop. I was heartbroken and livid. Not long after, I called and we fought. Then we broke up.
The break up lasted all of 8 hours. We were on the phone until 6:00 in the morning at which point he’d had enough and hung up on me. I cried in a way that I only had a few times before. By noon my eyes were swollen nearly shut and I felt completely empty. Whether it was because I truly missed Scott or if it had to do with other reasons, such as future loneliness, I don’t know. I know for certain I wasn’t ready to never see his family again. By 5:00 on New Year’s Day we were both on our way to his dad’s house for dinner.
Another three months later? I have moved in. It officially happened two weeks ago when a stranger moved into my bedroom. I miss my apartment terribly. I spent years turning it into a home and just as I was about to purchase my first dining set I left it behind. I miss sleep. Undisturbed sleep. Scott snores. A LOT. Many nights I end up on the couch, but having someone to wake up to is, even if down the hall, a wonderful thing. The most wonderful thing is having my Siddy Cat with me and seeing how fast of friends he and Scott have become.
It’s not all perfect. Though Scott makes the bed every day he is a complete slob. Order completely eludes him. I was once this way but over the years I have discovered Pledge and filing folders and have never looked back. There are times that I feel like I am a nanny again. “I’ve asked you before. Will you please turn your socks right side out before putting them in the hamper?” Speaking of hamper “dirty clothes go IN the hamper, not on it.” “You’re chewing with your mouth open again.” “Is it really too difficult to pick your pile of used tissues up off the coffee table before you go to bed?” You get the idea and I am sure many of you are nodding in understanding.
There are also the times when I am standing at the stove (that had never even been turned on before my arrival) and he comes up and hugs me from behind. Or the times that I catch him watching me from the doorway. In the time that we have been together he has lightened up in a way that I never expected. My favorite being his “I love you” dance and the song he has been “writing” for me. It goes “I know a girl; her name is L; I really love her; ‘Cause her name is L”. Sondheim he is not, but it makes me smile and laugh every time.
We live together. We are adopting a dog. We spend Sundays with his family. All of these are things I have never had before. All of these are things I always imagined I would only do with the man I’m going to marry. I don’t know that this is “it” though. I find my mind wandering to “what might’ve been” s often, usually when I’m alone at night. The fact that I am with a man who will not accompany to theatre and arts events was actually one of my deal breakers. Not wanting kids was a deal breaker , also, and is still a very big red flag for me, even though I can’t have children of my own. There is a gray area, but the colors are too vibrant elsewhere to walk away, so instead I will continue forward.
I miss writing and I miss the thrill of meeting new people through dating. I asked and for some reason Scott is not Okay with me going out on dates with other men even if it strictly for research purposes. Damn. I totally would have done it! So if you can think of ways for me to continue writing this without completely invading Scott’s privacy I am open to suggestion!
Happy spring!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
The Three Month Curse
It should be known that three months is the usual max time on a relationship, not only for me, but also for my sister. It’s possible that I am just so warped by all of the men who have treated me badly in the past, or perhaps it is cold feet coming with the idea of actually moving in with someone, but I am starting to seriously question what it is I want in my life right now. I can’t seem to get rid of this nagging feeling that I have completely given up my identity, and this after only three months of being with Scott! What is going to happen after 3 years? I love Scott, I do, but what if “love just ain’t enough?”
Over the years I have loved many men and for the most part they never loved me in return. The ones who did love me weren’t on the same page as I was and I definitely loved them more. After the sad realization that I loved these men more than they loved me I would always dream about the day when I would find a man, that amazing man, who would love me as much as, if not more than, I love him. I finally have that and the security and warmth that comes from that blanket is unlike any I have ever known. If that is true, which it is, why does it feel like something is missing?
Last night I slept in my own bed for the first time in nearly two weeks. I can count the times I have slept in my own bed over the last 6 weeks on one hand. I’m a big girl and made the decision to stay with Scott, of course, but made that decision, over and over again, knowing that if I want to fall asleep next to him it will never be in my bed. This has upset me since we started dating. Not only does it take a lot more for a woman to stay away from home, but I also have a cat who I am continually abandoning. Why is it expected of me to give up my home and what I am comforted by all of the time if he isn’t willing to do it just once? My roommate is gone visiting his family for the holidays and I said over a month ago that I would be staying at my place during this time and I am sticking to my guns. Because of those guns I have spent the last several nights in a lonely bed.
I don’t know this from experience but I hear that when you are in a healthy relationship that there is always compromise, that you have to give up a part of yourself to let the other person in. That is all fine and dandy, but shouldn’t both partners be giving up something? If the give and take is a seesaw I may as well have a toddler on the other side because my ass has scarcely left the ground! Or maybe I just don’t see it because I am so wrapped up in the things that I have given up to see all that he has abandoned to be with me.
It all sounds horrible when I put it down on paper. And to be perfectly honest there is a lot I am leaving out but in this particular case don’t feel like I can be completely open with you. The rewards I reap from being with a man who loves me terribly are plentiful, and they are far better than crying myself to sleep at night because I’m lonely. There are nights I cry myself to sleep for other reasons now though. So what’s a girl to do when she is uncertain? When her head and her heart are both in flux and leaving her in a state of confusion and nausea? I guess for now I enjoy the silence of my lonely bed for a little bit while I try to figure things out.
Am I just a bachelorette who is uncomfortable being in a committed relationship? Do I simply have a case of cold feet that often accompanies something new and life changing? Or is something really not right about the whole thing? I always get antsy around the three month marker. Maybe it will all fall into its blissful place after the new year.
Over the years I have loved many men and for the most part they never loved me in return. The ones who did love me weren’t on the same page as I was and I definitely loved them more. After the sad realization that I loved these men more than they loved me I would always dream about the day when I would find a man, that amazing man, who would love me as much as, if not more than, I love him. I finally have that and the security and warmth that comes from that blanket is unlike any I have ever known. If that is true, which it is, why does it feel like something is missing?
Last night I slept in my own bed for the first time in nearly two weeks. I can count the times I have slept in my own bed over the last 6 weeks on one hand. I’m a big girl and made the decision to stay with Scott, of course, but made that decision, over and over again, knowing that if I want to fall asleep next to him it will never be in my bed. This has upset me since we started dating. Not only does it take a lot more for a woman to stay away from home, but I also have a cat who I am continually abandoning. Why is it expected of me to give up my home and what I am comforted by all of the time if he isn’t willing to do it just once? My roommate is gone visiting his family for the holidays and I said over a month ago that I would be staying at my place during this time and I am sticking to my guns. Because of those guns I have spent the last several nights in a lonely bed.
I don’t know this from experience but I hear that when you are in a healthy relationship that there is always compromise, that you have to give up a part of yourself to let the other person in. That is all fine and dandy, but shouldn’t both partners be giving up something? If the give and take is a seesaw I may as well have a toddler on the other side because my ass has scarcely left the ground! Or maybe I just don’t see it because I am so wrapped up in the things that I have given up to see all that he has abandoned to be with me.
It all sounds horrible when I put it down on paper. And to be perfectly honest there is a lot I am leaving out but in this particular case don’t feel like I can be completely open with you. The rewards I reap from being with a man who loves me terribly are plentiful, and they are far better than crying myself to sleep at night because I’m lonely. There are nights I cry myself to sleep for other reasons now though. So what’s a girl to do when she is uncertain? When her head and her heart are both in flux and leaving her in a state of confusion and nausea? I guess for now I enjoy the silence of my lonely bed for a little bit while I try to figure things out.
Am I just a bachelorette who is uncomfortable being in a committed relationship? Do I simply have a case of cold feet that often accompanies something new and life changing? Or is something really not right about the whole thing? I always get antsy around the three month marker. Maybe it will all fall into its blissful place after the new year.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Happily Ever...So Far
Welcome to the holiday season everyone! I wanted to take a moment away from all of the craziness to give you an update. I'm not sure where to start exactly except to say things are going pretty well. Three months ago I had no intention of being where I am now. Where is that? In a happy, committed relationship with a man who is not at all the man I ever imagined I would be with.
Scott and I have been together for two and a half months now. For me to be involved with a man for two and a half months isn't all that uncommon. The only difference is that in the past I would have seen him two or three times during that duration and I spend upwards of 5 nights a week with Scott. A month ago I injured myself at work and have been out on disability ever since. My concern was that Scott and I would be able to spend time together in a way we hadn't been able to before and that the results would be less than fantastic. It's easy to spend many evenings with someone when most of it is spent sleeping. We work opposite schedules so while he was spending the weekends relaxing and having fun, I was at work. When he was dreading Monday morning and returning to work, I was looking forward to a much needed day off. Now we are able to spend a lot of "quality time" together and I feared we might drive each other crazy.
Turns out I was wrong. Not only have we not driven each other crazy over the last four weeks but we've actually grown closer. Often times I am waiting for him when he comes home from work, dinner either in the oven or on the way. I get up with him in the morning when he goes to work and generally head back to my place to spend time with my cat. We spend the weekends in the country or running around or having dinner with his family. In short, it's wonderful! I have never worked a "normal" work schedule in my life and have never wanted to but suddenly I am longing to have a regular 9 to 5 kind of job so I can spend my evenings and weekends with Scott.
Don't get me wrong, it's not all sunshine and lollipops. He and I are two VERY different people. He spends hours every day listening to or watching The Howard Stern Show which I can only stomach in small doses. I like to watch intelligent and heartfelt dramas and So You Think You Can Dance, which is less appealing to him than watching grass grow. Politically we don't see eye to eye on much and socially we have very dissimilar viewpoints. All of these things lead to arguments, disagreements, sometimes even fights, of which we've had a couple of good ones. But it is the first time I have ever stuck it out with someone, or felt it was worth voicing my own opinions against his. At the end of the day we take care of each other and make the other person smile. A lot.
Where are we? Well, when it came time for me to think about resigning me lease at the end of the year Scott suggested I move in with him. I've thought and thought about and finally came to the conclusion that "yes, this is something we should do." I've thought better of it though. What we have is good but it is new. The possibility that we will end up taking that step in a couple of months is pretty high, but I don't want to ruin something that could be really great by diving into it too quickly.
I have thought for a couple of years that I have been ready to make the ultimate of commitments, but the truth is now that I am with someone with whom that possibility is a reality, not just a fantasy, it is kind of scary. Life with someone whom I know is there when I need him is so much better than I could have ever imagined, yet I find myself thinking with sadness that I may never go on a first date again! I hear this will pass. I've always enjoyed my single life, even during the nights that found me crying tears of loneliness, but falling asleep next to a heavy snorer is more soothing than I ever dreamed.
So for now, things are good. They're great! For the first time ever I am shopping for Christmas gifts for a man I love and that excites me to no end! Almost as exciting is the pile of boxes in the trunk of his car that I'm not allowed to look at. Looking ahead I don't think I'll be adding anymore numbers to my quest before June, but you never know. If things go terribly wrong with Scott I will probably need to go out with a different guy every night just to distract me from the heartache that loss would cause! And you will all be the first to know! I miss the new, interesting people and the stories they all brought. Perhaps I can find something else to write about now.
Scott and I have been together for two and a half months now. For me to be involved with a man for two and a half months isn't all that uncommon. The only difference is that in the past I would have seen him two or three times during that duration and I spend upwards of 5 nights a week with Scott. A month ago I injured myself at work and have been out on disability ever since. My concern was that Scott and I would be able to spend time together in a way we hadn't been able to before and that the results would be less than fantastic. It's easy to spend many evenings with someone when most of it is spent sleeping. We work opposite schedules so while he was spending the weekends relaxing and having fun, I was at work. When he was dreading Monday morning and returning to work, I was looking forward to a much needed day off. Now we are able to spend a lot of "quality time" together and I feared we might drive each other crazy.
Turns out I was wrong. Not only have we not driven each other crazy over the last four weeks but we've actually grown closer. Often times I am waiting for him when he comes home from work, dinner either in the oven or on the way. I get up with him in the morning when he goes to work and generally head back to my place to spend time with my cat. We spend the weekends in the country or running around or having dinner with his family. In short, it's wonderful! I have never worked a "normal" work schedule in my life and have never wanted to but suddenly I am longing to have a regular 9 to 5 kind of job so I can spend my evenings and weekends with Scott.
Don't get me wrong, it's not all sunshine and lollipops. He and I are two VERY different people. He spends hours every day listening to or watching The Howard Stern Show which I can only stomach in small doses. I like to watch intelligent and heartfelt dramas and So You Think You Can Dance, which is less appealing to him than watching grass grow. Politically we don't see eye to eye on much and socially we have very dissimilar viewpoints. All of these things lead to arguments, disagreements, sometimes even fights, of which we've had a couple of good ones. But it is the first time I have ever stuck it out with someone, or felt it was worth voicing my own opinions against his. At the end of the day we take care of each other and make the other person smile. A lot.
Where are we? Well, when it came time for me to think about resigning me lease at the end of the year Scott suggested I move in with him. I've thought and thought about and finally came to the conclusion that "yes, this is something we should do." I've thought better of it though. What we have is good but it is new. The possibility that we will end up taking that step in a couple of months is pretty high, but I don't want to ruin something that could be really great by diving into it too quickly.
I have thought for a couple of years that I have been ready to make the ultimate of commitments, but the truth is now that I am with someone with whom that possibility is a reality, not just a fantasy, it is kind of scary. Life with someone whom I know is there when I need him is so much better than I could have ever imagined, yet I find myself thinking with sadness that I may never go on a first date again! I hear this will pass. I've always enjoyed my single life, even during the nights that found me crying tears of loneliness, but falling asleep next to a heavy snorer is more soothing than I ever dreamed.
So for now, things are good. They're great! For the first time ever I am shopping for Christmas gifts for a man I love and that excites me to no end! Almost as exciting is the pile of boxes in the trunk of his car that I'm not allowed to look at. Looking ahead I don't think I'll be adding anymore numbers to my quest before June, but you never know. If things go terribly wrong with Scott I will probably need to go out with a different guy every night just to distract me from the heartache that loss would cause! And you will all be the first to know! I miss the new, interesting people and the stories they all brought. Perhaps I can find something else to write about now.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
#23; Meet Scott
Scott
Height: 5’8
Age: 32
Met: At work
A rugged, rough-and-tumble, Irishman from upstate New York, so no brogue
A few months ago I was brought on as the operations manager for a new boardwalk themed event space and night spot. I’ve done openings before but of the Broadway variety. I’ve never even worked outside of the performing arts industry let alone open a new venue, but when my best friend told me she thought there was the perfect opening for me at her company I decided it was worth at least speaking to the people in charge. I met with the general manager of the property and the director of human resources the next day. We sat at a booth in the lounge and talked then they gave me a tour of the skeletal space that was coming to be upstairs. On my tour of the construction site I had the privilege of meeting the president of the company and some other guy, director of something or other. It was a little overwhelming at the time and I was doing my best to just keep up. It must have worked because they offered me the job on the spot. It’s been a challenging, exciting journey thus far and whether or not I’ve found my career home I will take one thing from the experience for sure. It was weeks before I had contact with the director of something or other again or even put together what his name was.
The two weeks leading up to the opening saw me spending 16+ hour days at the venue almost daily. I was tired and running on adrenaline and through it all The Marine had disappeared. I was so grateful for the craziness of work so I wouldn’t have to spend every waking moment thinking about him. We were to open on Friday and on Wednesday it didn’t seem like it was ever going to happen. It was all hands on deck. Between those of us attached to the project from a management/development level to the new hourly staff and even the full-timers at corporate, everyone was pitching in to get it ready to go by 7:00 on Friday. It should be said that the director of something or other is a good friend to my best friend’s boyfriend so she has spent some time with him outside of work. On Tuesday morning I went into the downstairs manager’s office to grab something and the director of something or other was in there. As I turned to leave he stopped me because my tag was sticking out of my shirt. I pulled my best friend aside and said “I don’t know if it is because I need to get laid in a big way or what, but I was just completely turned on when Scott tucked my tag back into my shirt.” She looked me in the eye and without flinching said “no”.
Even with the stern direction of my best girl friend I couldn’t help but think about the unexpected feeling I had when the director of something or other, Scott, touched me. He was around the venue for much of the day and we got into some unexpected conversations as well. The most obvious connection was our love for the Yankees. He was wearing an Alex Rodriguez shirt because he was going to the game that night. Lucky bastard. At one point he said “well maybe we can go to a postseason game together .” I wasn’t sure where to go with that. I didn’t mention any of it to my friend since she clearly wasn’t in approval of anything happening. At this point I was making it out to just be a new work connection.
The next day I came into work looking less than fabulous for a day of manual labor. I was very excited to have my new shoes arrive at the venue though! Scott was at the venue again. At one point we were talking about where we both lived. Turns out he lives in the waterfront town just next to mine where I like to hang out, Hoboken, and he suggested we grab a drink sometime. Sure. Why not. In fact, why not that night, was my suggestion. The rest of the day was spent in flirtation. While talking about where to meet later that night we were joined by the president of the company and I’m not so sure we did a good job of hiding it.
Fast forward to later that day. I was an even bigger wreck than I was that morning and got a lot of crap from my coworkers that I was going out on a first date looking the way I did. Little did they know that the man I’d be meeting fully knew what to expect. I did shake out my hair and traded my sneakers for my new boots, but I still wasn’t looking or feeling too attractive. Scott had told me we’d meet somewhere near his place, which I knew the intersection, just not our meeting locale. So when I got off the train I started towards that general vicinity. He called to let me know where he was and I had just passed it, so I turned around to head back. I was surprised to see that he had come outside to meet me. I was glad that he had chosen a high top over the bar so we could actually face each other. After asking me what I wanted to drink he went to the bar to get it for me. Good start. One of the first guys to take care of me before I took care of myself. A sign of things to come?
Before getting too far into the date I had to confirm that we had indeed been flirting for the last two days and this was actually a date. He laughed at me for needing to confirm it. The conversation was easy, and even though we didn’t have a ton of similar interests we were able to share with each other and find enough common ground for some form of understanding. Maybe forty-five minutes into the evening I fessed up and told him about My Quest. I know that I laid it out that I would tell them on the third date, but seeing as how we work together I felt the need to let him in on it upfront. At that point I had every intention of continuing on with My Quest once we got through the launch party (which was being hosted by Paris Hilton the following week). He said something along the lines of ”if it makes you happy then you should” and I went into detail about how alive this project has made me and the things I’ve been discovering. I kind of expected the evening to end shortly after that reveal, instead we started talking about writing and the kinds of reading we like. Then suddenly this very manly man was reciting his favorite Robert Frost poem for me. It was completely unexpected. I had meant to keep it to myself but ended up telling him “very few people surprise me.” He’s got this great smile that completely transforms his face. In a moment he goes from that rough-and-tumble man of a man to a kid and I saw it radiate for the first time in those moments.
We both finished our drinks around the same time and the bar was closing up. I had planned on heading home since the train was right across the street and i was exhausted but when he asked if I wanted to have a drink back at his place I found myself saying “yes”. We walked to his place and he took my hand. Where normally it would, it didn’t bother me that in my boots I was taller than he was. When we got to his place he showed me around, gave me a tour of the artwork and memorabilia he talked about, then I took a seat on the couch while he made us a couple of drinks. We talked some more and decided to rent a movie On Demand. I was surprised to hear myself agree to finish it in his bedroom and even more so that I agreed to spend the night. Nothing happened. I mean a lot happened, but nothing HAPPENED.
The wounded pup that I am, I thought for sure that things would be weird at the venue the next day. I thought that he was probably just trying to get laid or regretted having me spend the night. Much to my surprise the only thing that was weird was how great he continued to make me feel. Whenever our eyes would happen to meet I could feel myself blush. I found myself looking for reasons to be alone with him. I know he was doing the same. Though we kept a professional physicality, the words spoken were not always work related. I had somehow let him convince me that I couldn’t even tell my best friend what was going on. He didn’t want anyone to know. I don’t keep anything from her! Yet when she asked about who last night’s date was I found myself lying about who it was with. I hated not letting my best friend in on my newly found happiness but sensed that maybe Scott was right, that it should just be between us for now.
Friday came and every moment spent near Scott was one that made my life better than it had been before. I had hoped that he would stick around for the doors to open but he went home. Finally seeing people in the space and seeing my team do what they had been hired to do was incredible and I was on such a high. All I wanted to do was share it with Scott so I left my own bed empty and stayed with him again. Saturday was a really long day. I had thought I’d get out around 10pm after coming in at 9:00 that morning, but at 1 the next morning I was still at work. I told Scott I’d let him know when I was done. At 2:00 he called to see when I was going to be done. When I told him about ten more minutes he said “Ok, I’m downstairs waiting.” He had gotten out of bed, walked to the garage where his car was parked, and driven into the city to get me so I wouldn’t have to take the train home. Smitten, right there in that moment.
When I got down to the street I just wanted to jump across the arm rest and hug him for being so incredible. He kissed me and said “So, Joe (we’ll call him Joe) knows.” “What?” “Joe” is my best friend’s boyfriend and a good friend of Scott’s. I was kind of surprised to come out and find Scott parked almost directly in front of the venue. He wanted us to be so secretive so I expected him to be down the block somewhere. Of course his buddy knows his car and his buddy left just before I did. Tap, tap, tap on the window. “Bro, what are you doin’ sitting here?” And so Scott told him. And without doubt my best friend would know within a few hours.
To my surprise my best friend wasn’t upset with me at all. And though I still don’t know what her initial hesitation was (other than the Scott I know is a much different Scott than everyone else knows) she immediately changed her tune and was even a little excited about it.
All of this happened five weeks ago. The next week not only did Scott introduce me to his father but also handed over keys to his apartment so I could just come crawl into bed with him after getting out of work at 3:00 in the morning. I spend more nights at his place than I do at my own and my cat is not really thrilled about the arrangement, but I hope he’ll forgive me someday. I’ve actually spent time with his dad on four separate occasions. We’ve been out on couples’ outings with my best friend and her boyfriend. He took a day off from his work week (which is different than my own) so he could take me flying in this small engine plane, officially the best date EVER. Even if I wanted to continue on My Quest right now I don’t know when I‘d have the time because every moment I have that isn’t spent at work I want to spend with Scott, and usually do.
There have been many unexpected twists and turns in the last 5 months but even though a happy ending was the ultimate goal I definitely didn’t expect that I’d actually meet someone who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. Scott is good to me in ways that I didn’t know existed. We have fun together but we are also able to talk about the difficult things. I’ve even had my first lover’s quarrel with Scott. I’d never been secure enough to speak an adverse opinion in previous relationships. Don’t get me wrong, we have our differences and we are by no means perfect together, but we’re really good together. If opposites really do attract we are proving the adage true. It isn’t always, but every once in a while Scott looks at me with these eyes that tell me there is no one else he would rather be with, nowhere else he’d rather be than right by my side and it stops my heart. I tell him “you’re giving me ‘the look’” to which he almost always responds “and what does it say?” This has all happened very quickly and we are both aware but can’t stop it. We are in love.
How can I deny this possibility just to finish a quest on which I set out to actually find myself a happy ending? I don’t know what the future holds for Scott and I. We have a difference of opinions on some key points that could be the end of our happiness, but we’re not quite at that defining point yet. For now, I am basking in the warm glow of new love. If, for some reason, it comes to an end I will pick up where I have left off. I will keep you updated until then. If it doesn’t work out, I have until June to finish my fifty dates in the year timeline I gave myself. But for now there is a strong possibility this could be it. I can’t help but think about The Ramone, whom I do still love and always will in some way. He never wronged me, so why shouldn’t I? I do think that he and I are a much more obvious pair but maybe that’s why it hasn’t worked out for us. And maybe that is why Scott and I could work, we have each other’s missing parts. The Ramone and I are one in the same with different anatomy. I go forward now with a hopeful, yet guarded heart. I’m not directing us towards failure, but I’m definitely being cautiously optimistic and trying to keep my head in the game when my heart has the ability to overpower it.
So, friends, stay tuned! There is either more heartache and more lessons to be learned in my near future, or stories of success and romance. Either way I will continue moving forward, still on my quest for romantic enlightenment, but with a different path to guide me.
Bonus Features:
*a bigger Yankees fan than even I am
*very ambitious
*close with his family, both geographically and emotionally
*says he will protect me and I believe him
*listens to me
* doesn’t always take me, himself, or us too seriously
*just wants to make me happy
As-Is Defaults: (This seems harsh and inappropriate right now)
*doesn’t want children, I can’t have children of my own so maybe it is meant to be
*hot tempered, but I seem to calm him
*not sold on the idea of marriage
Height: 5’8
Age: 32
Met: At work
A rugged, rough-and-tumble, Irishman from upstate New York, so no brogue
A few months ago I was brought on as the operations manager for a new boardwalk themed event space and night spot. I’ve done openings before but of the Broadway variety. I’ve never even worked outside of the performing arts industry let alone open a new venue, but when my best friend told me she thought there was the perfect opening for me at her company I decided it was worth at least speaking to the people in charge. I met with the general manager of the property and the director of human resources the next day. We sat at a booth in the lounge and talked then they gave me a tour of the skeletal space that was coming to be upstairs. On my tour of the construction site I had the privilege of meeting the president of the company and some other guy, director of something or other. It was a little overwhelming at the time and I was doing my best to just keep up. It must have worked because they offered me the job on the spot. It’s been a challenging, exciting journey thus far and whether or not I’ve found my career home I will take one thing from the experience for sure. It was weeks before I had contact with the director of something or other again or even put together what his name was.
The two weeks leading up to the opening saw me spending 16+ hour days at the venue almost daily. I was tired and running on adrenaline and through it all The Marine had disappeared. I was so grateful for the craziness of work so I wouldn’t have to spend every waking moment thinking about him. We were to open on Friday and on Wednesday it didn’t seem like it was ever going to happen. It was all hands on deck. Between those of us attached to the project from a management/development level to the new hourly staff and even the full-timers at corporate, everyone was pitching in to get it ready to go by 7:00 on Friday. It should be said that the director of something or other is a good friend to my best friend’s boyfriend so she has spent some time with him outside of work. On Tuesday morning I went into the downstairs manager’s office to grab something and the director of something or other was in there. As I turned to leave he stopped me because my tag was sticking out of my shirt. I pulled my best friend aside and said “I don’t know if it is because I need to get laid in a big way or what, but I was just completely turned on when Scott tucked my tag back into my shirt.” She looked me in the eye and without flinching said “no”.
Even with the stern direction of my best girl friend I couldn’t help but think about the unexpected feeling I had when the director of something or other, Scott, touched me. He was around the venue for much of the day and we got into some unexpected conversations as well. The most obvious connection was our love for the Yankees. He was wearing an Alex Rodriguez shirt because he was going to the game that night. Lucky bastard. At one point he said “well maybe we can go to a postseason game together .” I wasn’t sure where to go with that. I didn’t mention any of it to my friend since she clearly wasn’t in approval of anything happening. At this point I was making it out to just be a new work connection.
The next day I came into work looking less than fabulous for a day of manual labor. I was very excited to have my new shoes arrive at the venue though! Scott was at the venue again. At one point we were talking about where we both lived. Turns out he lives in the waterfront town just next to mine where I like to hang out, Hoboken, and he suggested we grab a drink sometime. Sure. Why not. In fact, why not that night, was my suggestion. The rest of the day was spent in flirtation. While talking about where to meet later that night we were joined by the president of the company and I’m not so sure we did a good job of hiding it.
Fast forward to later that day. I was an even bigger wreck than I was that morning and got a lot of crap from my coworkers that I was going out on a first date looking the way I did. Little did they know that the man I’d be meeting fully knew what to expect. I did shake out my hair and traded my sneakers for my new boots, but I still wasn’t looking or feeling too attractive. Scott had told me we’d meet somewhere near his place, which I knew the intersection, just not our meeting locale. So when I got off the train I started towards that general vicinity. He called to let me know where he was and I had just passed it, so I turned around to head back. I was surprised to see that he had come outside to meet me. I was glad that he had chosen a high top over the bar so we could actually face each other. After asking me what I wanted to drink he went to the bar to get it for me. Good start. One of the first guys to take care of me before I took care of myself. A sign of things to come?
Before getting too far into the date I had to confirm that we had indeed been flirting for the last two days and this was actually a date. He laughed at me for needing to confirm it. The conversation was easy, and even though we didn’t have a ton of similar interests we were able to share with each other and find enough common ground for some form of understanding. Maybe forty-five minutes into the evening I fessed up and told him about My Quest. I know that I laid it out that I would tell them on the third date, but seeing as how we work together I felt the need to let him in on it upfront. At that point I had every intention of continuing on with My Quest once we got through the launch party (which was being hosted by Paris Hilton the following week). He said something along the lines of ”if it makes you happy then you should” and I went into detail about how alive this project has made me and the things I’ve been discovering. I kind of expected the evening to end shortly after that reveal, instead we started talking about writing and the kinds of reading we like. Then suddenly this very manly man was reciting his favorite Robert Frost poem for me. It was completely unexpected. I had meant to keep it to myself but ended up telling him “very few people surprise me.” He’s got this great smile that completely transforms his face. In a moment he goes from that rough-and-tumble man of a man to a kid and I saw it radiate for the first time in those moments.
We both finished our drinks around the same time and the bar was closing up. I had planned on heading home since the train was right across the street and i was exhausted but when he asked if I wanted to have a drink back at his place I found myself saying “yes”. We walked to his place and he took my hand. Where normally it would, it didn’t bother me that in my boots I was taller than he was. When we got to his place he showed me around, gave me a tour of the artwork and memorabilia he talked about, then I took a seat on the couch while he made us a couple of drinks. We talked some more and decided to rent a movie On Demand. I was surprised to hear myself agree to finish it in his bedroom and even more so that I agreed to spend the night. Nothing happened. I mean a lot happened, but nothing HAPPENED.
The wounded pup that I am, I thought for sure that things would be weird at the venue the next day. I thought that he was probably just trying to get laid or regretted having me spend the night. Much to my surprise the only thing that was weird was how great he continued to make me feel. Whenever our eyes would happen to meet I could feel myself blush. I found myself looking for reasons to be alone with him. I know he was doing the same. Though we kept a professional physicality, the words spoken were not always work related. I had somehow let him convince me that I couldn’t even tell my best friend what was going on. He didn’t want anyone to know. I don’t keep anything from her! Yet when she asked about who last night’s date was I found myself lying about who it was with. I hated not letting my best friend in on my newly found happiness but sensed that maybe Scott was right, that it should just be between us for now.
Friday came and every moment spent near Scott was one that made my life better than it had been before. I had hoped that he would stick around for the doors to open but he went home. Finally seeing people in the space and seeing my team do what they had been hired to do was incredible and I was on such a high. All I wanted to do was share it with Scott so I left my own bed empty and stayed with him again. Saturday was a really long day. I had thought I’d get out around 10pm after coming in at 9:00 that morning, but at 1 the next morning I was still at work. I told Scott I’d let him know when I was done. At 2:00 he called to see when I was going to be done. When I told him about ten more minutes he said “Ok, I’m downstairs waiting.” He had gotten out of bed, walked to the garage where his car was parked, and driven into the city to get me so I wouldn’t have to take the train home. Smitten, right there in that moment.
When I got down to the street I just wanted to jump across the arm rest and hug him for being so incredible. He kissed me and said “So, Joe (we’ll call him Joe) knows.” “What?” “Joe” is my best friend’s boyfriend and a good friend of Scott’s. I was kind of surprised to come out and find Scott parked almost directly in front of the venue. He wanted us to be so secretive so I expected him to be down the block somewhere. Of course his buddy knows his car and his buddy left just before I did. Tap, tap, tap on the window. “Bro, what are you doin’ sitting here?” And so Scott told him. And without doubt my best friend would know within a few hours.
To my surprise my best friend wasn’t upset with me at all. And though I still don’t know what her initial hesitation was (other than the Scott I know is a much different Scott than everyone else knows) she immediately changed her tune and was even a little excited about it.
All of this happened five weeks ago. The next week not only did Scott introduce me to his father but also handed over keys to his apartment so I could just come crawl into bed with him after getting out of work at 3:00 in the morning. I spend more nights at his place than I do at my own and my cat is not really thrilled about the arrangement, but I hope he’ll forgive me someday. I’ve actually spent time with his dad on four separate occasions. We’ve been out on couples’ outings with my best friend and her boyfriend. He took a day off from his work week (which is different than my own) so he could take me flying in this small engine plane, officially the best date EVER. Even if I wanted to continue on My Quest right now I don’t know when I‘d have the time because every moment I have that isn’t spent at work I want to spend with Scott, and usually do.
There have been many unexpected twists and turns in the last 5 months but even though a happy ending was the ultimate goal I definitely didn’t expect that I’d actually meet someone who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. Scott is good to me in ways that I didn’t know existed. We have fun together but we are also able to talk about the difficult things. I’ve even had my first lover’s quarrel with Scott. I’d never been secure enough to speak an adverse opinion in previous relationships. Don’t get me wrong, we have our differences and we are by no means perfect together, but we’re really good together. If opposites really do attract we are proving the adage true. It isn’t always, but every once in a while Scott looks at me with these eyes that tell me there is no one else he would rather be with, nowhere else he’d rather be than right by my side and it stops my heart. I tell him “you’re giving me ‘the look’” to which he almost always responds “and what does it say?” This has all happened very quickly and we are both aware but can’t stop it. We are in love.
How can I deny this possibility just to finish a quest on which I set out to actually find myself a happy ending? I don’t know what the future holds for Scott and I. We have a difference of opinions on some key points that could be the end of our happiness, but we’re not quite at that defining point yet. For now, I am basking in the warm glow of new love. If, for some reason, it comes to an end I will pick up where I have left off. I will keep you updated until then. If it doesn’t work out, I have until June to finish my fifty dates in the year timeline I gave myself. But for now there is a strong possibility this could be it. I can’t help but think about The Ramone, whom I do still love and always will in some way. He never wronged me, so why shouldn’t I? I do think that he and I are a much more obvious pair but maybe that’s why it hasn’t worked out for us. And maybe that is why Scott and I could work, we have each other’s missing parts. The Ramone and I are one in the same with different anatomy. I go forward now with a hopeful, yet guarded heart. I’m not directing us towards failure, but I’m definitely being cautiously optimistic and trying to keep my head in the game when my heart has the ability to overpower it.
So, friends, stay tuned! There is either more heartache and more lessons to be learned in my near future, or stories of success and romance. Either way I will continue moving forward, still on my quest for romantic enlightenment, but with a different path to guide me.
Bonus Features:
*a bigger Yankees fan than even I am
*very ambitious
*close with his family, both geographically and emotionally
*says he will protect me and I believe him
*listens to me
* doesn’t always take me, himself, or us too seriously
*just wants to make me happy
As-Is Defaults: (This seems harsh and inappropriate right now)
*doesn’t want children, I can’t have children of my own so maybe it is meant to be
*hot tempered, but I seem to calm him
*not sold on the idea of marriage
Thursday, October 22, 2009
A Much Needed Time to Reflect
So in seeking enlightenment and clarity I have found nothing but questions and uncertainty. Since my last reflection A LOT has happened. Most unexpectedly, of course, was the death of my father. I’ve often blamed my relationship woes on my parents, mainly my estranged father. Those of you who come from families tried by divorce will likely understand what I mean when I say it is hard to find the silver lining in an institution that you have only seen fail and which likely added much stress to your life, possibly at a vulnerable age. My parents first separated when I was 6, finally divorcing when I was 7, and my father completely disappearing not long after. I spent many a Sunday afternoon in our living room window waiting for him to show up and going to bed that night disappointed that he didn’t show up, again. Perhaps this is why it takes an awful lot to earn my trust. It is even more likely that this is why undependable men are so comfortable for me. It’s a feeling I got used to at a young age. Now that my father is gone do we think the issues will be put to rest? Probably not. I haven’t taken the time to truly grieve and to figure out exactly what affect his death will have on my life but someday when I do I am sure it will make a profound impact.
Almost as unexpected as my father’s death was the reappearance of The Marine. If you had told me 5 months ago that he would have a place in this whole debacle other than back story I would have called you crazy. I made a mistake here that I have to own up to. I saw The Ramone. I saw The Ramone a week after seeing The Marine for the first time. I spent the entire weekend on edge with excitement because The Marine was in town. Days went by and I didn’t see him. I didn’t even hear from him. When I finally did hear from him he said he was too busy working on a presentation to see me. I make him my first priority when he is in town. I sit around and wait on days off. I take time off from work, generally to wait without correspondence. So to then be told that he’d be spending the evening in his hotel room writing instead of seeing me… It didn’t make sense. And I started thinking about that eye opener of a book “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Sure The Marine’s words were saying he cared and wanted us to be together, but his actions were saying the exact opposite. I was hurt and disappointed, having put myself out there for him again. So when I heard from The Ramone on that same night that yes, he would actually like to see me, I jumped at the chance.
I spent the night with The Ramone. And I spent most of the night thinking about The Marine, comparing the two men. Longing to be with the one I was missing. To compare them is impossible because each is the antithesis of the other. Where the continuous laughter brought on by The Ramone was once welcomed, I just wanted to sit peacefully in conversation for a moment without making a joke out of it. Where part of me has always admired The Ramone’s snub of style and expected presentation, I missed the clean, put together look of The Marine. I missed his silent strength. I missed his smell. I even missed his buzz cut. I seemed to be learning an invaluable lesson! I’m no longer in love with The Ramone? Could it be? If I hadn’t spent time with him I would have likely always wondered, wouldn’t I?
A couple of nights later he found out, The Marine, that is. Having been taken out for a good time by an old Irish friend of mine who gave me my first (and consequently second, third, forth, and fifth) drink since my father died, I was a raw, honest, emotional mess. At 4 in the morning I started calling The Marine. Much to my surprise he told me to come to his hotel, he didn’t want me going home alone. And there we sat, in the hallway of his hotel (they share rooms when in town) for two hours and I spilled my guts. I told him exactly how every time he stood me up or disappeared it broke my heart. I told him the hoops I had to go through to get in touch with him after we first met. I told him about my abusive childhood. And I told him about The Ramone. Not about our relationship, The Marine knew about that. But I told him what happened two nights before. I thought this was fantastic news for the two of us! Closure with another man! Always a good thing, right? Not so much for The Marine. Though he seemed to be understanding and forgiving that night, it apparently got to him more than he let on, and he disappeared. For all I knew at the time though he had just simply disappeared again, the same way he has so many times before. I promised myself that if that happened we were done. DONE! So after weeks of not hearing from him? I’ve decided that it is time to close that chapter. Sadly, it has no REAL closure and I will likely always wonder “what if?” What happened? I may never know.
So! The Ramone? Still in love with his ex-wife. He told me the night we shared was a fluke. Though I am wonderful he can only love me “half assed” and I deserve better than that. This is what he told me. And I’m no longer feeling the sense of desire I once had for him. Could we live a happy life together? Absolutely. But I’ve gone back to longing for The Marine. The Marine who has gone MIA once again. Maybe the remainder of this project will be as a distraction from the heartache I am feeling over this new loss. I didn’t know it was possible, but it hurts more the second time than it did the first. I feel more of a betrayal this time. Hopefully one of the next 28 will find a way to make my heart whole again.
As for the dates we were optimistic about; Dr. Drummer and Husker Red? I’ll give you one guess. If you guessed that I haven’t heard from either of them you would be exactly right. You can’t win ‘em all and it just goes to show that my female intuition is completely out of whack. Yanks Fan, G.I. Joe, and Tiger Vet all checked back in for a second date as they had promised, but I politely sent all three back out into the wild. Hopefully they, too, find what they are looking for.
I wasn’t really anticipating another round of heartache so soon. Least of all from My Quest. And certainly not at the hands of The Marine. As I said before, this journey is going to take me on uncharted waters and I should be prepared not only for wonderful surprises, but also for the worst. At this point I think hours of tears and emptiness are the worst I could have imagined. So let us hope that the rest of our journey is smooth sailing and filled with many shining stars to guide us onward.
Thank you again for your continued support. It will be needed to keep me going at this point.
Cheers,
(:L:)
Almost as unexpected as my father’s death was the reappearance of The Marine. If you had told me 5 months ago that he would have a place in this whole debacle other than back story I would have called you crazy. I made a mistake here that I have to own up to. I saw The Ramone. I saw The Ramone a week after seeing The Marine for the first time. I spent the entire weekend on edge with excitement because The Marine was in town. Days went by and I didn’t see him. I didn’t even hear from him. When I finally did hear from him he said he was too busy working on a presentation to see me. I make him my first priority when he is in town. I sit around and wait on days off. I take time off from work, generally to wait without correspondence. So to then be told that he’d be spending the evening in his hotel room writing instead of seeing me… It didn’t make sense. And I started thinking about that eye opener of a book “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Sure The Marine’s words were saying he cared and wanted us to be together, but his actions were saying the exact opposite. I was hurt and disappointed, having put myself out there for him again. So when I heard from The Ramone on that same night that yes, he would actually like to see me, I jumped at the chance.
I spent the night with The Ramone. And I spent most of the night thinking about The Marine, comparing the two men. Longing to be with the one I was missing. To compare them is impossible because each is the antithesis of the other. Where the continuous laughter brought on by The Ramone was once welcomed, I just wanted to sit peacefully in conversation for a moment without making a joke out of it. Where part of me has always admired The Ramone’s snub of style and expected presentation, I missed the clean, put together look of The Marine. I missed his silent strength. I missed his smell. I even missed his buzz cut. I seemed to be learning an invaluable lesson! I’m no longer in love with The Ramone? Could it be? If I hadn’t spent time with him I would have likely always wondered, wouldn’t I?
A couple of nights later he found out, The Marine, that is. Having been taken out for a good time by an old Irish friend of mine who gave me my first (and consequently second, third, forth, and fifth) drink since my father died, I was a raw, honest, emotional mess. At 4 in the morning I started calling The Marine. Much to my surprise he told me to come to his hotel, he didn’t want me going home alone. And there we sat, in the hallway of his hotel (they share rooms when in town) for two hours and I spilled my guts. I told him exactly how every time he stood me up or disappeared it broke my heart. I told him the hoops I had to go through to get in touch with him after we first met. I told him about my abusive childhood. And I told him about The Ramone. Not about our relationship, The Marine knew about that. But I told him what happened two nights before. I thought this was fantastic news for the two of us! Closure with another man! Always a good thing, right? Not so much for The Marine. Though he seemed to be understanding and forgiving that night, it apparently got to him more than he let on, and he disappeared. For all I knew at the time though he had just simply disappeared again, the same way he has so many times before. I promised myself that if that happened we were done. DONE! So after weeks of not hearing from him? I’ve decided that it is time to close that chapter. Sadly, it has no REAL closure and I will likely always wonder “what if?” What happened? I may never know.
So! The Ramone? Still in love with his ex-wife. He told me the night we shared was a fluke. Though I am wonderful he can only love me “half assed” and I deserve better than that. This is what he told me. And I’m no longer feeling the sense of desire I once had for him. Could we live a happy life together? Absolutely. But I’ve gone back to longing for The Marine. The Marine who has gone MIA once again. Maybe the remainder of this project will be as a distraction from the heartache I am feeling over this new loss. I didn’t know it was possible, but it hurts more the second time than it did the first. I feel more of a betrayal this time. Hopefully one of the next 28 will find a way to make my heart whole again.
As for the dates we were optimistic about; Dr. Drummer and Husker Red? I’ll give you one guess. If you guessed that I haven’t heard from either of them you would be exactly right. You can’t win ‘em all and it just goes to show that my female intuition is completely out of whack. Yanks Fan, G.I. Joe, and Tiger Vet all checked back in for a second date as they had promised, but I politely sent all three back out into the wild. Hopefully they, too, find what they are looking for.
I wasn’t really anticipating another round of heartache so soon. Least of all from My Quest. And certainly not at the hands of The Marine. As I said before, this journey is going to take me on uncharted waters and I should be prepared not only for wonderful surprises, but also for the worst. At this point I think hours of tears and emptiness are the worst I could have imagined. So let us hope that the rest of our journey is smooth sailing and filled with many shining stars to guide us onward.
Thank you again for your continued support. It will be needed to keep me going at this point.
Cheers,
(:L:)
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Take a #22 and Wait
Priority Male
Height: 6’3ish
Age: mid 30s
Met: at the post office
Looks like a dark haired, buzz cut linebacker who decided to smile in the team photo, meaning just goofy
I have lived in many different places; urban, suburban, and rural. Each location has its ups. Each has its downs. I love that if I’m hungry at 3:30 in the morning I can go out and have a sit down dinner at someplace other than Denny’s. In the suburbs I enjoyed the convenience of commercial retail and a less crowded feel while still maintaining a close proximity to the city. In the rural Midwest there are stars by the millions and horizons that hold the most beautiful of sunsets. One thing I took for granted while living in a rural community and I never really thought I’d miss, is being able to walk in and out of the post-office in under two minutes.
I needed stamps. Not standard first class stamps. No. I needed 1 and 2 cent stamps. Why? Because I buy oodles of special edition stamps and the USPS ups the price of postage before I make my way through all of them. So I walk to the nearest post office and get on line (a term that still weirds me out, in Iowa we say we stand IN line, not ON) with about 15 other people. There is one window open. The woman scowling on the other side doesn’t seem to be in any rush so I prep my feet and knees for a long wait. The post office is actually on my way to a pier on the Hudson where I am heading so I have reading with me.
“I voted for her”, says a voice in front of me. On this particular day I am reading Hillary Rodham Clinton’s book “Living History”. The man who had turned around in front of me has an almost overbearing physical presence. When I stepped up behind him I notice the size of his build. Not professional body builder big, but could easily be a MLB infielder. You know me and shoulders, and he has quite the pair. But when I look up from my reading I look right up into the goofy smile of an 8 year old boy. “Did you really or are you just trying to impress me?” Why anyone would try to impress me in my oversize sweats is beyond me. But he seemed to be. We talked briefly about the 2008 election and the previous day’s Yankees game (I was wearing a Yankees cap). When he was second up for the window he asked if I had plans later. I did have late evening plans but decided I could squeeze in a quick pint at a tavern just down the street. He gave me his card, we both did our postal business, and I went to do my reading by the water.
A few hours later I headed back towards the post office in a much more presentable fashion. Early as always I found a spot for two at the bar near the window. At 6:23 there was a tap at the window and I looked up to see my Priority Male. He gave me a great big “Hey!” as he came through the door and bent down to kiss me on the cheek. So far, so good. I hadn’t gotten around to ordering yet and he asked “what are you having?” then proceeded to order up two. The place was fairly quiet and it was nice to not have to yell over music or hundreds of conversations the way you have to in a Midtown bar.
Turns out my fellow Yankee fan is a pilot, like The Marine, but he flies commercial airliners. There’s something about a man in uniform, even if it is a cheap polyester Continental one! From that point forward I wasn’t able to look at him without imagining him in his little hat with his little gold wings. You don’t see a whole lot of really attractive pilots these days and I’d be more than happy to see him sitting in my cock pit on the next flight home! Originally from New England he became a Yankees fan to piss off his older brother who worshiped at the alter of the enemy, the Red Sox. Though it was once a violent rivalry for the two of them, boys will be boys after all, they have since grown up and enjoy egging each other on. As you may know already, I’m pleased to hear he is still very close with his family and sees them fairly often.
Not only is he close with his family, but he is also very close with his dog, whom he has raised from a puppy he picked up at a shelter. Twelve years later you can see the love exude from him when he speaks of his best friend and the sadness in knowing that large breed dogs won’t make it much longer. I’m a sucker for animals, especially dogs, having had to leave my own back home, and the idea of having a big pillow of a Retriever to snuggle up with is almost worth a second date in and of itself.
He also has a two year old niece whom he adores. We couldn’t help but share photos of our girlies and tell our favorite stories. You can tell that he, too, has a bit of a competitive drive as we kept trying to top the other’s stories. Seeing as how I have THREE beautiful, intelligent, outgoing nieces I am pretty sure I win, but I’m also fairly biased
It didn’t even seem like we had been there that long when he reminded me “don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” And he was right. The last hour and forty-five minutes had flown by and I was bordering on being late for my previous engagement. As I was in a bit of hurry after his reminder I wasn’t all that disappointed that he didn’t offer to walk me to my train. But he did say we should meet up again. It’s likely I will say yes, especially if the fur ball is also invited. All in all I am grateful to the United States Postal Service for being completely inefficient at their Washington Street branch. If I’d been able to walk up to the window I may have missed out on a perfectly lovely evening.
Bonus Features:
*I love those shoulders
*family oriented
*an animal lover
As-Is Defaults
*travels a lot for work
*no real chemistry
Height: 6’3ish
Age: mid 30s
Met: at the post office
Looks like a dark haired, buzz cut linebacker who decided to smile in the team photo, meaning just goofy
I have lived in many different places; urban, suburban, and rural. Each location has its ups. Each has its downs. I love that if I’m hungry at 3:30 in the morning I can go out and have a sit down dinner at someplace other than Denny’s. In the suburbs I enjoyed the convenience of commercial retail and a less crowded feel while still maintaining a close proximity to the city. In the rural Midwest there are stars by the millions and horizons that hold the most beautiful of sunsets. One thing I took for granted while living in a rural community and I never really thought I’d miss, is being able to walk in and out of the post-office in under two minutes.
I needed stamps. Not standard first class stamps. No. I needed 1 and 2 cent stamps. Why? Because I buy oodles of special edition stamps and the USPS ups the price of postage before I make my way through all of them. So I walk to the nearest post office and get on line (a term that still weirds me out, in Iowa we say we stand IN line, not ON) with about 15 other people. There is one window open. The woman scowling on the other side doesn’t seem to be in any rush so I prep my feet and knees for a long wait. The post office is actually on my way to a pier on the Hudson where I am heading so I have reading with me.
“I voted for her”, says a voice in front of me. On this particular day I am reading Hillary Rodham Clinton’s book “Living History”. The man who had turned around in front of me has an almost overbearing physical presence. When I stepped up behind him I notice the size of his build. Not professional body builder big, but could easily be a MLB infielder. You know me and shoulders, and he has quite the pair. But when I look up from my reading I look right up into the goofy smile of an 8 year old boy. “Did you really or are you just trying to impress me?” Why anyone would try to impress me in my oversize sweats is beyond me. But he seemed to be. We talked briefly about the 2008 election and the previous day’s Yankees game (I was wearing a Yankees cap). When he was second up for the window he asked if I had plans later. I did have late evening plans but decided I could squeeze in a quick pint at a tavern just down the street. He gave me his card, we both did our postal business, and I went to do my reading by the water.
A few hours later I headed back towards the post office in a much more presentable fashion. Early as always I found a spot for two at the bar near the window. At 6:23 there was a tap at the window and I looked up to see my Priority Male. He gave me a great big “Hey!” as he came through the door and bent down to kiss me on the cheek. So far, so good. I hadn’t gotten around to ordering yet and he asked “what are you having?” then proceeded to order up two. The place was fairly quiet and it was nice to not have to yell over music or hundreds of conversations the way you have to in a Midtown bar.
Turns out my fellow Yankee fan is a pilot, like The Marine, but he flies commercial airliners. There’s something about a man in uniform, even if it is a cheap polyester Continental one! From that point forward I wasn’t able to look at him without imagining him in his little hat with his little gold wings. You don’t see a whole lot of really attractive pilots these days and I’d be more than happy to see him sitting in my cock pit on the next flight home! Originally from New England he became a Yankees fan to piss off his older brother who worshiped at the alter of the enemy, the Red Sox. Though it was once a violent rivalry for the two of them, boys will be boys after all, they have since grown up and enjoy egging each other on. As you may know already, I’m pleased to hear he is still very close with his family and sees them fairly often.
Not only is he close with his family, but he is also very close with his dog, whom he has raised from a puppy he picked up at a shelter. Twelve years later you can see the love exude from him when he speaks of his best friend and the sadness in knowing that large breed dogs won’t make it much longer. I’m a sucker for animals, especially dogs, having had to leave my own back home, and the idea of having a big pillow of a Retriever to snuggle up with is almost worth a second date in and of itself.
He also has a two year old niece whom he adores. We couldn’t help but share photos of our girlies and tell our favorite stories. You can tell that he, too, has a bit of a competitive drive as we kept trying to top the other’s stories. Seeing as how I have THREE beautiful, intelligent, outgoing nieces I am pretty sure I win, but I’m also fairly biased
It didn’t even seem like we had been there that long when he reminded me “don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” And he was right. The last hour and forty-five minutes had flown by and I was bordering on being late for my previous engagement. As I was in a bit of hurry after his reminder I wasn’t all that disappointed that he didn’t offer to walk me to my train. But he did say we should meet up again. It’s likely I will say yes, especially if the fur ball is also invited. All in all I am grateful to the United States Postal Service for being completely inefficient at their Washington Street branch. If I’d been able to walk up to the window I may have missed out on a perfectly lovely evening.
Bonus Features:
*I love those shoulders
*family oriented
*an animal lover
As-Is Defaults
*travels a lot for work
*no real chemistry
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
#21; I've Always Had a Sweet Tooth
Sugar Daddy
Height: 6’1
Age: 44, or so he says
Met: online
A stronger, taller, more rugged Ben Kingsley
There have been some fairly impressive men in my life over the years and though some of them have been significantly well off the most I’ve ever gotten is a nice meal. This is more than enough for me. I don’t want elaborate gifts or shopping expeditions, just good company. The idea of the sugar daddy has always eluded me. I suppose it takes a certain person, and I am not she. Tonight, for the first time, I felt like the only reason people could feasibly believe I was with this man was for his money. At first glance he would probably appear to be more of an all-around catch than some of the others, but it didn’t feel like it.
I was responding to an e-mail I had gotten from someone and I found this guy in the “others like” selection when I sent the message off. I clicked on his profile because the photo was taken on a beautiful beach, splashed with long grasses and I wanted to look at the landscape more. I don’t remember even looking at the profile or the other pictures and I was not trying to be charming or insightful when I sent him a message saying simply “I would rather be wherever that picture was taken”. To my surprise he found this one line message to be brilliantly charming and asked if we could meet in his response. I read it on my BlackBerry and since I had already left the house for the day, I went ahead and called to schedule for that evening. This would be the first ever online date that I went on without knowing a thing about the person.
I met him at a quite spot in Hell’s Kitchen where I had been a couple of times before. There weren’t very many people around so it was easy to spot him. He was nicest dressed man of any of the men so far so I was pleased I had overdressed earlier. To my surprise he looked older than I’d expected, but he was also much more attractive than the picture I had looked at would lead you to believe. One of the first things I noticed was the beautiful cufflinks he was wearing. I don’t know that I have ever sat down with a man in cufflinks.
It seems that the first part of any conversation with a New Yorker you have just met has to do with what one does for a living. He started out with some intelligible questions about my new career move and we moved over to him. Though it is sometimes frustrating to have a one sided conversation that is all about me, we never got back to the subject. The man knows how to talk about himself. A lot. I suppose when you have an interesting background like he does it is easy.
A Long Island native, I’m jealous that he is really close with his brother and sister and gets to see them often as they all live within 10 miles of their childhood home, where their parents still live. An All-American linebacker, he played his way through college and took a job on Wall Street after graduation. The first day on the job never happened though. He was dating a model at the time and her agent booked him an audition which he decided to go to by chance. Any of you in the industry will hate him right away. From his first audition he booked a national commercial, then another from his second. Which led to a 7 year modeling career which took him across the globe. Still a business man at heart, he never spent any of his residuals and before the age of 30 took the money he’d saved to start a travel company. He began with 6 employees and when he sold his growing franchise in 2004 he had 160 people working for him. He’s currently working on a project involving water sports in a resort area in Costa Rica where he has already purchased a marina.
Beyond his work is Sugar Daddy is an avid outdoorsman. Though he does fish, he is more of an East Coast outdoorsman. Golf. Sailing. Running. Riding. Both bikes and horses. And he’s a surfer. He claims to be 44, but I suspect he is a bit older, in which case he has an incredible physique for his age. There is something extremely sexy about the idea of a well built, tan, middle-aged man crashing into the waves. I don’t know that I would be able to keep up with him. Where our lives cross is on the cultural side where he frequents the ballet and theatre, and sounds like he is on the board of a museum. On paper, this guy is the real deal, if not a little bit egocentric. But his smile is so contagious and his dimples so endearing that it’s almost forgivable.
Though I’m not sure that I could endure hours and hours of listening to him talk about how fabulous his life is, it was nice to sit with a man who wasn’t afraid to talk about himself. He has a great look so it doesn’t surprise me that he was asked to do a couple of commercials again last year. Now I will have to keep my eye open for him. If only I watched TV… It wasn’t a date to blow your socks off, but he said he’d like to see me again and I’m kind of fascinated by the “talking man”.
Bonus Features:
*very successful
*close with his family
*great smile
*seems to have nice pecs hiding behind that $400 shirt
As-Is Defaults:
*self-absorbed
*hates the Yankees
Height: 6’1
Age: 44, or so he says
Met: online
A stronger, taller, more rugged Ben Kingsley
There have been some fairly impressive men in my life over the years and though some of them have been significantly well off the most I’ve ever gotten is a nice meal. This is more than enough for me. I don’t want elaborate gifts or shopping expeditions, just good company. The idea of the sugar daddy has always eluded me. I suppose it takes a certain person, and I am not she. Tonight, for the first time, I felt like the only reason people could feasibly believe I was with this man was for his money. At first glance he would probably appear to be more of an all-around catch than some of the others, but it didn’t feel like it.
I was responding to an e-mail I had gotten from someone and I found this guy in the “others like” selection when I sent the message off. I clicked on his profile because the photo was taken on a beautiful beach, splashed with long grasses and I wanted to look at the landscape more. I don’t remember even looking at the profile or the other pictures and I was not trying to be charming or insightful when I sent him a message saying simply “I would rather be wherever that picture was taken”. To my surprise he found this one line message to be brilliantly charming and asked if we could meet in his response. I read it on my BlackBerry and since I had already left the house for the day, I went ahead and called to schedule for that evening. This would be the first ever online date that I went on without knowing a thing about the person.
I met him at a quite spot in Hell’s Kitchen where I had been a couple of times before. There weren’t very many people around so it was easy to spot him. He was nicest dressed man of any of the men so far so I was pleased I had overdressed earlier. To my surprise he looked older than I’d expected, but he was also much more attractive than the picture I had looked at would lead you to believe. One of the first things I noticed was the beautiful cufflinks he was wearing. I don’t know that I have ever sat down with a man in cufflinks.
It seems that the first part of any conversation with a New Yorker you have just met has to do with what one does for a living. He started out with some intelligible questions about my new career move and we moved over to him. Though it is sometimes frustrating to have a one sided conversation that is all about me, we never got back to the subject. The man knows how to talk about himself. A lot. I suppose when you have an interesting background like he does it is easy.
A Long Island native, I’m jealous that he is really close with his brother and sister and gets to see them often as they all live within 10 miles of their childhood home, where their parents still live. An All-American linebacker, he played his way through college and took a job on Wall Street after graduation. The first day on the job never happened though. He was dating a model at the time and her agent booked him an audition which he decided to go to by chance. Any of you in the industry will hate him right away. From his first audition he booked a national commercial, then another from his second. Which led to a 7 year modeling career which took him across the globe. Still a business man at heart, he never spent any of his residuals and before the age of 30 took the money he’d saved to start a travel company. He began with 6 employees and when he sold his growing franchise in 2004 he had 160 people working for him. He’s currently working on a project involving water sports in a resort area in Costa Rica where he has already purchased a marina.
Beyond his work is Sugar Daddy is an avid outdoorsman. Though he does fish, he is more of an East Coast outdoorsman. Golf. Sailing. Running. Riding. Both bikes and horses. And he’s a surfer. He claims to be 44, but I suspect he is a bit older, in which case he has an incredible physique for his age. There is something extremely sexy about the idea of a well built, tan, middle-aged man crashing into the waves. I don’t know that I would be able to keep up with him. Where our lives cross is on the cultural side where he frequents the ballet and theatre, and sounds like he is on the board of a museum. On paper, this guy is the real deal, if not a little bit egocentric. But his smile is so contagious and his dimples so endearing that it’s almost forgivable.
Though I’m not sure that I could endure hours and hours of listening to him talk about how fabulous his life is, it was nice to sit with a man who wasn’t afraid to talk about himself. He has a great look so it doesn’t surprise me that he was asked to do a couple of commercials again last year. Now I will have to keep my eye open for him. If only I watched TV… It wasn’t a date to blow your socks off, but he said he’d like to see me again and I’m kind of fascinated by the “talking man”.
Bonus Features:
*very successful
*close with his family
*great smile
*seems to have nice pecs hiding behind that $400 shirt
As-Is Defaults:
*self-absorbed
*hates the Yankees
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Nice Guys Really Do Exist; #20
Tiger Vet
Height: 6’1
Age: 45
Met: online
The spitting image of the actor Michael Nouri
I started my evening of back to back Match.com dates with a fellow Big 12 football fan. The Tiger Vet had contacted me over a month ago, questioning my college allegiance and pledging that his team was going to slaughter my team come October. Let’s be honest here. Sports related trash talk turns me on more than anything else so there was no way I wasn’t going to meet this guy!
I was walking to work when my phone rang. I had forgotten that I had given Tiger Vet my phone number a couple of days before. I don’t know what inspired me to bend one of my rules pertaining to online dating, but I guess he had earned his stripes in the previous weeks and as I toughed out some rough times he patiently waited for me to get around to him. It turned out that we were both partially free that night so I suggested we grab a quick drink in Hoboken while we had the window of opportunity. He said that would be great if I could think of some place quiet.
I left work in a frantic tizzy, feeling as though I had planned the worst day ever. Events were happening way too close to each other in different locations and it was causing me a lot of stress and I was visibly flustered when I walked in to the fairly empty bar in downtown Hoboken. I had squeezed Tiger Vet into an already tight time slot before a late night rendez vous (it’s not what it sounds like and you’ll hear more about it later) so I became even more agitated when I heard that he was going to be a half hour later than planned. Seriously folks! What the hell happened to setting a time and arriving on time? What DID people do before everyone had a cell phone?
I gave up on sitting patiently by myself and pulled out some work. Sadly, the Yanks were off that night so there was only a college game on the tube that I didn’t really care about. I stopped turning to look at the opening door a few minutes before my phone began to ring. As I picked up my phone I was approached by a man who looked vaguely like the pictures I had seen on my computer screen. He had been the one calling, too. To my surprise he was much better looking in person, that is, if you don’t count the light wash, taper leg jeans.
I immediately fell into an easy conversation with the Vet. It turned out that not only did he and The Ramone go to the same college but they were actually there at the same time! I asked, and luckily it was a big enough school that they didn’t know each other, even though their frat houses were in close proximity to one another. One of the biggest differences between this guy and The Ramone was that he was commissioned as an officer in the Marine Corps directly out of college. I have a great respect for and a strong attraction to men who feel a sense of duty to their country, perhaps because so many New Yorkers are so vain and narcissistic. He spent many years in the Corps and after leaving for a couple of years, returned as a reservist. Last year he deployed to Afghanistan, commanding a group of 15 international officers with a NATO operation. I could listen to him, or anyone, talk about this kind of work for hours. I am in awe of service men and their stories. Maybe because theirs are so different than any of the stories of my own life. Next year he will retire aboard the Intrepid where he was first inducted into the Corps.
Outside of his military career he is a successful banker, managing a large portfolio for several clients. Finance is something that I know absolutely nothing about. Take a look at my bank accounts to see for yourself. Once having sights set on being a veterinarian, you can tell listening to him talk about his financial career that he wishes he had pursued a career working with animals. This becomes even more apparent when he talks about his two-year-old Golden Retriever.
I learned an awful lot about this man in the short time I spent with him, and strangely enough he learned a lot about me, too. When I ended our phone conversation earlier in the day he had said “I have a lot of questions for you” and he wasn’t kidding! He wanted to find out more about me, and the things he already knew he wanted an explanation of or reasoning for. You could tell by his body language that he really did care about what I had to say and really did want to hear more.
We both ordered Smithwick’s. I ordered before he arrived, and when he ordered he left the same tip I did, which made me happy as I’m a generous tipper and get upset with people who are neglectful. He, too, has bad knees, and when I pointed out the hole and crack in my right patella (that is visible to the eye) he commented also “nice legs by the way”. We made the mistake of talking a bit of politics and though we both agree that there should be a greater sense of personal responsibility in the general public we are completely off balance when it comes to social issues and things like public housing and health care reform. I guess that’s why they say never talk politics, but it is important to me and I don’t want to spend the evenings of the rest of my life debating a point with my partner. I’d like us to team up against an opposing force.
The time came when I needed to head back into the city for the next date and he had to get going so he could be up early. I wasn’t necessarily ready to end my time with the Tiger Vet but it couldn’t be avoided and he offered/told me he was going to walk me to my train. I told him that’s very nice of him but now I’d have to walk in heels instead of changing my shoes. He didn’t agree and told me that he was more concerned with the pain in my joints than the overall look of my outfit. Nonetheless, I stayed in the heels. When we got to the train station he informed me that he’d really like to see me again but that he understands that I am very busy right now. He tried to go in for a kiss but I turned my head and went for the cheek. I know he was disappointed but I didn’t want to mislead him.
The Tiger Vet is a great guy. He possesses many of the qualities I believe I want in my partner but I don’t think I want them in him. Though an attractive man, there wasn’t a real physical connection and I don’t think I will miss him if I never see him again. As I write this I have already heard from him again, and I now have to find a way to let him down gently. Why can’t there be more guys out there like Tiger Vet? Or why couldn’t I have wanted to rip HIS clothes off? And can’t I have both?
Bonus Features:
*has served his country
*loves animals
*genuinely interested in knowing more about me
*chivalrous
As-Is Defaults
*no “spark”
*likely a registered Republican
Height: 6’1
Age: 45
Met: online
The spitting image of the actor Michael Nouri
I started my evening of back to back Match.com dates with a fellow Big 12 football fan. The Tiger Vet had contacted me over a month ago, questioning my college allegiance and pledging that his team was going to slaughter my team come October. Let’s be honest here. Sports related trash talk turns me on more than anything else so there was no way I wasn’t going to meet this guy!
I was walking to work when my phone rang. I had forgotten that I had given Tiger Vet my phone number a couple of days before. I don’t know what inspired me to bend one of my rules pertaining to online dating, but I guess he had earned his stripes in the previous weeks and as I toughed out some rough times he patiently waited for me to get around to him. It turned out that we were both partially free that night so I suggested we grab a quick drink in Hoboken while we had the window of opportunity. He said that would be great if I could think of some place quiet.
I left work in a frantic tizzy, feeling as though I had planned the worst day ever. Events were happening way too close to each other in different locations and it was causing me a lot of stress and I was visibly flustered when I walked in to the fairly empty bar in downtown Hoboken. I had squeezed Tiger Vet into an already tight time slot before a late night rendez vous (it’s not what it sounds like and you’ll hear more about it later) so I became even more agitated when I heard that he was going to be a half hour later than planned. Seriously folks! What the hell happened to setting a time and arriving on time? What DID people do before everyone had a cell phone?
I gave up on sitting patiently by myself and pulled out some work. Sadly, the Yanks were off that night so there was only a college game on the tube that I didn’t really care about. I stopped turning to look at the opening door a few minutes before my phone began to ring. As I picked up my phone I was approached by a man who looked vaguely like the pictures I had seen on my computer screen. He had been the one calling, too. To my surprise he was much better looking in person, that is, if you don’t count the light wash, taper leg jeans.
I immediately fell into an easy conversation with the Vet. It turned out that not only did he and The Ramone go to the same college but they were actually there at the same time! I asked, and luckily it was a big enough school that they didn’t know each other, even though their frat houses were in close proximity to one another. One of the biggest differences between this guy and The Ramone was that he was commissioned as an officer in the Marine Corps directly out of college. I have a great respect for and a strong attraction to men who feel a sense of duty to their country, perhaps because so many New Yorkers are so vain and narcissistic. He spent many years in the Corps and after leaving for a couple of years, returned as a reservist. Last year he deployed to Afghanistan, commanding a group of 15 international officers with a NATO operation. I could listen to him, or anyone, talk about this kind of work for hours. I am in awe of service men and their stories. Maybe because theirs are so different than any of the stories of my own life. Next year he will retire aboard the Intrepid where he was first inducted into the Corps.
Outside of his military career he is a successful banker, managing a large portfolio for several clients. Finance is something that I know absolutely nothing about. Take a look at my bank accounts to see for yourself. Once having sights set on being a veterinarian, you can tell listening to him talk about his financial career that he wishes he had pursued a career working with animals. This becomes even more apparent when he talks about his two-year-old Golden Retriever.
I learned an awful lot about this man in the short time I spent with him, and strangely enough he learned a lot about me, too. When I ended our phone conversation earlier in the day he had said “I have a lot of questions for you” and he wasn’t kidding! He wanted to find out more about me, and the things he already knew he wanted an explanation of or reasoning for. You could tell by his body language that he really did care about what I had to say and really did want to hear more.
We both ordered Smithwick’s. I ordered before he arrived, and when he ordered he left the same tip I did, which made me happy as I’m a generous tipper and get upset with people who are neglectful. He, too, has bad knees, and when I pointed out the hole and crack in my right patella (that is visible to the eye) he commented also “nice legs by the way”. We made the mistake of talking a bit of politics and though we both agree that there should be a greater sense of personal responsibility in the general public we are completely off balance when it comes to social issues and things like public housing and health care reform. I guess that’s why they say never talk politics, but it is important to me and I don’t want to spend the evenings of the rest of my life debating a point with my partner. I’d like us to team up against an opposing force.
The time came when I needed to head back into the city for the next date and he had to get going so he could be up early. I wasn’t necessarily ready to end my time with the Tiger Vet but it couldn’t be avoided and he offered/told me he was going to walk me to my train. I told him that’s very nice of him but now I’d have to walk in heels instead of changing my shoes. He didn’t agree and told me that he was more concerned with the pain in my joints than the overall look of my outfit. Nonetheless, I stayed in the heels. When we got to the train station he informed me that he’d really like to see me again but that he understands that I am very busy right now. He tried to go in for a kiss but I turned my head and went for the cheek. I know he was disappointed but I didn’t want to mislead him.
The Tiger Vet is a great guy. He possesses many of the qualities I believe I want in my partner but I don’t think I want them in him. Though an attractive man, there wasn’t a real physical connection and I don’t think I will miss him if I never see him again. As I write this I have already heard from him again, and I now have to find a way to let him down gently. Why can’t there be more guys out there like Tiger Vet? Or why couldn’t I have wanted to rip HIS clothes off? And can’t I have both?
Bonus Features:
*has served his country
*loves animals
*genuinely interested in knowing more about me
*chivalrous
As-Is Defaults
*no “spark”
*likely a registered Republican
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Gooooooooo Biiiiiiiiiiiiiig Reeeee-eeeeeed!!!! #19
As I write this, I have not heard from The Marine for 10 days. Has he disappeared again? He gave me his word he wouldn't...
Husker Red
Height: 6’3-ish
Age: 39
Met: at an alumni event (we didn’t go to the same school, but I grew up in the town the school is located)
He reminds me of a caricature of some celebrity, I just can’t figure out who!
I am a pretty girly girl, but some of my favorite things to do in New York have to do with sports. One of them involves going to the home of the Husker Alumni Association on game day in the fall. It feels like home. There is nothing like it, to go to an overcrowded bar in Midtown and find that you are overcrowded by Midwesterners in red shirts hollering “GO BIG RED!” I’ve met some great people on game day.
Last September I spent a day with a guy and his sister, who was visiting from San Diego. It was a rare occasion in which I got to The Rogue early enough to find a seat and they were seated next to me. Three and a half hours later we were all feeling pretty good after a win and several beers, so kept the party going. Joined by my friend Willa, we headed around the corner and did karaoke ‘til closing time. He was a terrific guy, Husker Red, but I was trying to make things work with The Marine at the time so even though he had contacted me, we lost touch.
Fast forward to this May. I was at my first game at Yankee Stadium without The Ramone. I’ve always enjoyed going to The Stadium by myself, but The Ramone killed me on it after several wonderful days in the Bronx with his company. So naturally, a week after our break up, I was feeling a little blue. He was supposed to be there with me, and he wasn’t. I had two seats, and only one body to fill them. As I was coming out of the New Era store a pair of familiar shoulders passed by me. The idea of coming up behind someone I think I know and having them turn around and be someone else is not appealing at all. So I watched for a moment to see if the familiarity was founded. Not sure. I found one of the few vendors who sells dark beer and took it to my lonely seat and shot a text to Husker Red, “Are you at The Stadium?” A few minutes later “Yah, are you?”
Somewhere in the first couple of innings my second seat was filled. I immediately thought about how inconvenient the timing was. My first encounter with this guy I was hung up on The Marine. Now I was hung up on The Ramone! And this guy is fantastic! It was his first Yankees game. He wasn’t nearly as excited about that as I was and he was completely amused by my fanaticism. It could have been a great opportunity if my heart wasn’t still being held by someone else. He must have sensed my distraction and returned to his friends after a couple of innings of my antics.
Fast forward again to the present. The Marine and I are supposed to be making a go of it again, even if his dedication is unconvincing at this point and I’ve not heard from him in over a week. I head to my first game of the season at The Rogue. I hadn’t seen so many people crammed into the main floor before so I headed upstairs. The same. The upstairs bar seemed to have some space so I squeezed my way through the sea of red and as I got closer I saw a familiar set of shoulders. The only place in the room where I could be was right next to Husker Red. I’ve mention his shoulders twice now because they are distinctive. Very broad shoulders on an otherwise small frame, muscular, and he holds them high. They’re easy to pick out in a crowd. He seemed fairly excited to see me and, to my surprise, I was really excited to see him. He was by himself for the time being so we played catch up.
Not much to tell on his end. Same job. Same apartment. The news being that his sister (whom I had sung karaoke with a year before) is getting married in a week! Very exciting. So he is preparing to head to San Diego. When he gets back from San Diego? He immediately heads to Europe for two weeks of what sounds like disconnected bliss. No computer. No phone. Just the German countryside and Oktoberfest. I have to say I am a little jealous. I spent several months in Germany with my sister and her family and would love to go back.
Remembering our conversation from the spring he asked about my job search and my long trip to Iowa (I was leaving the next day for 3 weeks in the Midwest when I last saw him). He was excited to hear about my new job, expressing interest in coming by when he returns from Europe. Like most of us who have relocated to major urban areas, he cringed and applauded me for the amount of time I have spent back home in the last six months.
It was surprising when I realized how interested I was in this man. Husker Red puts me at ease. I had spent the whole week stressed out about The Marine, who was in town for work but whom I had only seen for a couple of hours, worried about what is going on there, then suddenly I forgot all about him and was just enjoying the company of someone who felt like an old friend. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t keep thinking about how much I just wanted to run my hands across the shoulders I’m so attached to. But other than a couple of playful pats on the back I kept my hands to myself.
Around half-time we were joined by two of Red’s best friends. One male visiting from Baltimore and one female with whom he had been roommates in San Diego. Seeing a guy you like with his friends can either be a deal breaker or can sell you completely. There’s the possibility that he will turn into a bumbling, grunting idiot, especially if you are watching a football game. But not Red. He was just as poignant and fun-loving as ever. Maybe even more so. Seeing him with a female friend was even better, and talking to her proved to be informational. She is awesome, for one, and lives a couple of blocks from where I work. But two, she thinks the world of one of her best friends. You can tell that there is great respect and mutual admiration, the kind that is very reassuring if you are about to get involved with a new man. Am I about to get involved with a new man?
I, sadly, had to leave as soon as the game was over so I could get to work. I was sad to leave and wished I could stay but assumed it was for the best. I gave out a round of hugs to his friends (and the new friends I’d made at the bar) and saved the last one for Red. He held me longer and closer than the others and it was hard to not stay there for an inappropriately long time. Earlier I had gotten up to use the ladies room and he had placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me through the crowd. I tried not to read into it too much. He did the same thing again as I was leaving and it kind of got to me. Got to me enough that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Much to my surprise and delight I heard from him later that night. The typical “it was great to see you” was exchanged and then an admission. I admitted I was glad that the girl wasn’t a girlfriend, and he admitted that he missed a lot of the game because he had been watching me instead. Butterflies. Tiny butterflies. The idea of waiting three weeks to see him again was not appealing but he didn’t think he was going to have any time before he left for San Diego. Shit!
I was at work when I got a text from Husker Red, “Done soon?” Yes, actually. I was going to be out of work in a couple of hours. He didn’t have a lot of time but wanted to see me. He was at a brewery in Brooklyn listening to a friend’s marital woes and would meet me in Manhattan when we were both done. It was after midnight by the time he was able to join me and I had been sitting, talking to the bartender (a friend of mine) for an hour and a half or so. I was so happy to see him come into the room.
I was happy to see him but sad that he looked terrible. Not terrible as in unattractive, but you could tell that he had just had a really heavy night with his buddy and he was kind of drained. I was flattered that I was the person he wanted to see. We sat, for the first time, like we were on a date. You know the posturing. Both turned towards each other, my legs were crossed between his, hands often times resting on each others' thighs. Though this was really our first date, it seemed very natural and as if we had done it many times before. It was the first time Red had ever seen me out of sportswear and he definitely took notice.
We had only been sitting together for about 45 minutes, but it was already 1:00 and I knew he had to be to work by 7. I wasn’t ready to leave him though. I convinced him to walk to 8th Avenue instead of getting a cab right outside the bar. We walked with our arms around each other for a couple of blocks. Even in heels the shoulders I am so fond of were at a perfect height to rest my head against. And I did. Again, it seemed very natural and as if it had happened this way many times before.
We both got in the cab he hailed so we could spend another 26 blocks together. We discussed the likelihood of seeing each other again when he returns from his vacation and even the possibility of getting together during the few hours he has between his return from San Diego and leaving for Germany. The strong shoulders are matched with angular facial features. He has thin lips. The kind that you wouldn’t expect to offer up the greatest of kisses. But when I encouraged him to kiss me as we approached his building, it was quite the opposite and every bit of tension or worry I’d had melted away.
Though I don’t think either of us wanted him to, he got out of the cab and I headed back downtown to my train. If I would have had to guess I’d assume I’d be confused right now. But I’m not. We talked about the idea of us being together, like really together, when he returns. And I told him he should be safely but completely single while he is away. So I have three weeks, three very busy work weeks, to go about this project as a single woman. When Husker Red comes back I’m going to have to tell him about The Quest. I don’t know what his reaction will be. But I can’t wait for him to come home.
Bonus Features:
*well mannered
*Husker football fanatic
*Midwestern values
*close with his little sister
*great friends
*the shoulders I can’t seem to get enough of
*perfect height
*inviting eyes
How long can this list be?
As-Is Defaults:
*we work very different schedules
Husker Red
Height: 6’3-ish
Age: 39
Met: at an alumni event (we didn’t go to the same school, but I grew up in the town the school is located)
He reminds me of a caricature of some celebrity, I just can’t figure out who!
I am a pretty girly girl, but some of my favorite things to do in New York have to do with sports. One of them involves going to the home of the Husker Alumni Association on game day in the fall. It feels like home. There is nothing like it, to go to an overcrowded bar in Midtown and find that you are overcrowded by Midwesterners in red shirts hollering “GO BIG RED!” I’ve met some great people on game day.
Last September I spent a day with a guy and his sister, who was visiting from San Diego. It was a rare occasion in which I got to The Rogue early enough to find a seat and they were seated next to me. Three and a half hours later we were all feeling pretty good after a win and several beers, so kept the party going. Joined by my friend Willa, we headed around the corner and did karaoke ‘til closing time. He was a terrific guy, Husker Red, but I was trying to make things work with The Marine at the time so even though he had contacted me, we lost touch.
Fast forward to this May. I was at my first game at Yankee Stadium without The Ramone. I’ve always enjoyed going to The Stadium by myself, but The Ramone killed me on it after several wonderful days in the Bronx with his company. So naturally, a week after our break up, I was feeling a little blue. He was supposed to be there with me, and he wasn’t. I had two seats, and only one body to fill them. As I was coming out of the New Era store a pair of familiar shoulders passed by me. The idea of coming up behind someone I think I know and having them turn around and be someone else is not appealing at all. So I watched for a moment to see if the familiarity was founded. Not sure. I found one of the few vendors who sells dark beer and took it to my lonely seat and shot a text to Husker Red, “Are you at The Stadium?” A few minutes later “Yah, are you?”
Somewhere in the first couple of innings my second seat was filled. I immediately thought about how inconvenient the timing was. My first encounter with this guy I was hung up on The Marine. Now I was hung up on The Ramone! And this guy is fantastic! It was his first Yankees game. He wasn’t nearly as excited about that as I was and he was completely amused by my fanaticism. It could have been a great opportunity if my heart wasn’t still being held by someone else. He must have sensed my distraction and returned to his friends after a couple of innings of my antics.
Fast forward again to the present. The Marine and I are supposed to be making a go of it again, even if his dedication is unconvincing at this point and I’ve not heard from him in over a week. I head to my first game of the season at The Rogue. I hadn’t seen so many people crammed into the main floor before so I headed upstairs. The same. The upstairs bar seemed to have some space so I squeezed my way through the sea of red and as I got closer I saw a familiar set of shoulders. The only place in the room where I could be was right next to Husker Red. I’ve mention his shoulders twice now because they are distinctive. Very broad shoulders on an otherwise small frame, muscular, and he holds them high. They’re easy to pick out in a crowd. He seemed fairly excited to see me and, to my surprise, I was really excited to see him. He was by himself for the time being so we played catch up.
Not much to tell on his end. Same job. Same apartment. The news being that his sister (whom I had sung karaoke with a year before) is getting married in a week! Very exciting. So he is preparing to head to San Diego. When he gets back from San Diego? He immediately heads to Europe for two weeks of what sounds like disconnected bliss. No computer. No phone. Just the German countryside and Oktoberfest. I have to say I am a little jealous. I spent several months in Germany with my sister and her family and would love to go back.
Remembering our conversation from the spring he asked about my job search and my long trip to Iowa (I was leaving the next day for 3 weeks in the Midwest when I last saw him). He was excited to hear about my new job, expressing interest in coming by when he returns from Europe. Like most of us who have relocated to major urban areas, he cringed and applauded me for the amount of time I have spent back home in the last six months.
It was surprising when I realized how interested I was in this man. Husker Red puts me at ease. I had spent the whole week stressed out about The Marine, who was in town for work but whom I had only seen for a couple of hours, worried about what is going on there, then suddenly I forgot all about him and was just enjoying the company of someone who felt like an old friend. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t keep thinking about how much I just wanted to run my hands across the shoulders I’m so attached to. But other than a couple of playful pats on the back I kept my hands to myself.
Around half-time we were joined by two of Red’s best friends. One male visiting from Baltimore and one female with whom he had been roommates in San Diego. Seeing a guy you like with his friends can either be a deal breaker or can sell you completely. There’s the possibility that he will turn into a bumbling, grunting idiot, especially if you are watching a football game. But not Red. He was just as poignant and fun-loving as ever. Maybe even more so. Seeing him with a female friend was even better, and talking to her proved to be informational. She is awesome, for one, and lives a couple of blocks from where I work. But two, she thinks the world of one of her best friends. You can tell that there is great respect and mutual admiration, the kind that is very reassuring if you are about to get involved with a new man. Am I about to get involved with a new man?
I, sadly, had to leave as soon as the game was over so I could get to work. I was sad to leave and wished I could stay but assumed it was for the best. I gave out a round of hugs to his friends (and the new friends I’d made at the bar) and saved the last one for Red. He held me longer and closer than the others and it was hard to not stay there for an inappropriately long time. Earlier I had gotten up to use the ladies room and he had placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me through the crowd. I tried not to read into it too much. He did the same thing again as I was leaving and it kind of got to me. Got to me enough that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Much to my surprise and delight I heard from him later that night. The typical “it was great to see you” was exchanged and then an admission. I admitted I was glad that the girl wasn’t a girlfriend, and he admitted that he missed a lot of the game because he had been watching me instead. Butterflies. Tiny butterflies. The idea of waiting three weeks to see him again was not appealing but he didn’t think he was going to have any time before he left for San Diego. Shit!
I was at work when I got a text from Husker Red, “Done soon?” Yes, actually. I was going to be out of work in a couple of hours. He didn’t have a lot of time but wanted to see me. He was at a brewery in Brooklyn listening to a friend’s marital woes and would meet me in Manhattan when we were both done. It was after midnight by the time he was able to join me and I had been sitting, talking to the bartender (a friend of mine) for an hour and a half or so. I was so happy to see him come into the room.
I was happy to see him but sad that he looked terrible. Not terrible as in unattractive, but you could tell that he had just had a really heavy night with his buddy and he was kind of drained. I was flattered that I was the person he wanted to see. We sat, for the first time, like we were on a date. You know the posturing. Both turned towards each other, my legs were crossed between his, hands often times resting on each others' thighs. Though this was really our first date, it seemed very natural and as if we had done it many times before. It was the first time Red had ever seen me out of sportswear and he definitely took notice.
We had only been sitting together for about 45 minutes, but it was already 1:00 and I knew he had to be to work by 7. I wasn’t ready to leave him though. I convinced him to walk to 8th Avenue instead of getting a cab right outside the bar. We walked with our arms around each other for a couple of blocks. Even in heels the shoulders I am so fond of were at a perfect height to rest my head against. And I did. Again, it seemed very natural and as if it had happened this way many times before.
We both got in the cab he hailed so we could spend another 26 blocks together. We discussed the likelihood of seeing each other again when he returns from his vacation and even the possibility of getting together during the few hours he has between his return from San Diego and leaving for Germany. The strong shoulders are matched with angular facial features. He has thin lips. The kind that you wouldn’t expect to offer up the greatest of kisses. But when I encouraged him to kiss me as we approached his building, it was quite the opposite and every bit of tension or worry I’d had melted away.
Though I don’t think either of us wanted him to, he got out of the cab and I headed back downtown to my train. If I would have had to guess I’d assume I’d be confused right now. But I’m not. We talked about the idea of us being together, like really together, when he returns. And I told him he should be safely but completely single while he is away. So I have three weeks, three very busy work weeks, to go about this project as a single woman. When Husker Red comes back I’m going to have to tell him about The Quest. I don’t know what his reaction will be. But I can’t wait for him to come home.
Bonus Features:
*well mannered
*Husker football fanatic
*Midwestern values
*close with his little sister
*great friends
*the shoulders I can’t seem to get enough of
*perfect height
*inviting eyes
How long can this list be?
As-Is Defaults:
*we work very different schedules
Monday, September 21, 2009
#18: Again, For the First Time
The Marine
Age: 39
Height: 6’0
Met: At my favorite pub
Think Mark Harmon 15 years ago with broader shoulders
There are certain things in life that if you don’t do them for awhile, like take a bite of chocolate after giving it up for lent, or seeing “The Nutcracker” at Lincoln Center, that it feels like the first time all over again. The Marine, who you’ve heard about since the beginning, and I never truly had a first date. We met last spring. It was the day before a big opening and I had planned on going to bed early that night so I could get some beauty rest. Not only was there an opening the next night, but a date with a 70’s icon was to follow, also. But that afternoon my roommate called to see if I wanted to join her and a friend for dinner. I didn’t really but decided to go anyway. I went shopping for opening night accessories after work and waited to hear from my roomie. Around 7:00 I finally heard from her that dinner was cancelled as she wasn’t feeling well. I was superbly annoyed. I hadn’t even wanted to stay in the city but did for her. Not only was it the first Yankees v. Red Sox game of the season that night but also a Rangers playoff game!!!
It was too late to go home. I would miss the first few innings/period of the games if I got on a train now!!! So I took my shopping bags and tired self to my favorite pub and settled in amongst all the sports fans crowding the bar. It was a great night! Both teams won in dramatic fashion and I was thrilled to have been amongst new, rowdy friends to see it.
The place was starting to clear out as I finished my pint so I closed out my tab. I leaned across the bar to kiss my friend Rory good-bye and just as I was pulling on my jacket a group of about 20 good looking men in suits walked through the door. Rory and I shared a look and I said “looks like I’m gonna stay after all!”
Turns out they were Marines in town from D.C. for the pope’s visit. Most of them were married but I was having a great time with them. I kept hearing “You have to meet [The Marine]. Where’s [The Marine]?” I’m like, “fellas, you keep talkin’ about this guy, but where is he?!” And then suddenly, there he was. No bells and whistles. Quite the opposite. All of the noise in the massive bar disappeared into the night as we sat together for hours. I didn’t want that night to ever end. So many things happened in those first few hours that I can’t even tell you. Maybe later. But when he walked me to my train and kissed me for the first time I thought to myself, “This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for.” And it was the end of life as I knew it.
Fast forward to later that year and after months of turbulence The Marine disappeared. The last time I saw him everything seemed perfect. I was going to come down to D.C. to see him in a couple of weeks and he was going to meet my sister for the first time at her birthday party. But nothing. He fell off the face of my earth and I was heartbroken. I met a man who made me want to get married after not believing in the institution for the whole of my life and he just vanished as if he’d never been there. On New Year’s Eve I was laying on my couch watching an old movie when I got an unexpected text from him. “You’re better off without me.” He was wrong and I was angry.
When The Ramone came into my life, the hurt caused by The Marine went away for the most part. But he didn’t go away. I thought about him all the time. Even when I was with The Ramone. Opening day was the one year anniversary of the day we met. As The Ramone and I sat at the McDonald’s across the street from the Stadium having breakfast I got a text saying “Happy Anniversary!” The Ramone’s response was “who the hell do you know is texting you at 8:30 in the morning?”
I heard from The Marine every so often. Just sort of touching base. Nothing big. A few weeks ago my father passed away. I hadn’t seen or spoken to the man in over 10 years and the loss was difficult in ways that I didn’t expect. Where I had told The Ramone everything about my troubled past, The Marine had no idea. He just knew that my father had died. My two best friends answered the call of duty as I expected. But where The Ramone unexpectedly dropped the ball, The Marine stepped up to the plate. He stepped up in a big way. In so big of a way that I didn’t want to be at home by myself. I wanted to be with him and to my surprise he agreed.
So as I mentioned last week I headed to D.C. First dates have become second nature to me. With this project I am finding that the nerves and anticipation that normally accompany a first date haven’t been showing up, until this night. I don’t recall the last time that I was so nervous. I hadn’t seen my Marine in almost a year and the idea of seeing him now both terrified me and excited me in ways I didn’t understand. There was a mirror on the wall in front of me and I saw the reflection of him stroll up behind me. I did my best not to leap into his arms, and think I pulled off a fairly steady hug. It felt so good to be in his arms in that moment, both because I just wanted someone to hold me after the worst week of my life and because I felt like I’d come home.
He’s a quiet man, The Marine. He doesn’t fill the air with thoughtless banter the way I do, but when he has something to say it is pertinent, poignant, and often really clever. The Yankees were on in this Arlington bar because they were playing in Baltimore and he got to see me watch my boys for the first time. He was extremely amused. He’s not actually a big baseball fan and I got to fill him in a little bit which was exciting for me.
We had one drink and then he suggested we “get out of here.” Once “out of here” he asked if I wanted to go somewhere else or… I suggested we just walk for a bit. As we walked he massaged my shoulders which were extremely tense. Under his hands I can turn to butter. When he asked about the funeral and my week I avoided it and said I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. We walked, fingers intertwined, for a bit and he said “you’ll get to see me next week, too.” He didn’t have to tell me that he was going to be up in New York but he wanted to see me again I guess.
We found ourselves in a plaza with a fountain and stopped. Standing toe to toe we laughed, and talked. For a while we stood, my arms around his neck, his around my waist, just relaxing there. Then he started doing one of the things I love most about him, exploring. It is hard for The Marine to just be with me and not explore me, and that is what it is, exploring. His hands wander my body. Brushing across my face and through my hair. His eyes often times will follow the trail of his hands, and will search my face for deeply intense moments. I don’t know what it is he is searching for. I pointed it out to him and let him in on the fact that it is one of my favorite things. “It may not be a good thing” was his reply. “No, I’m pretty sure it is.”
There, in the light of an almost full moon, perfectly framed between two identical residential towers and in front of a beautiful fountain he kissed me again, for the first time. It felt like the first time all over again. It turns out he had never really disappeared because I had never really let him go. Suddenly all of the sadness and anger and confusion of the last week of my life fell away. The past was simply that, and the future in that moment when he kissed me again was limitless. He takes my breath away, and that, though dangerous, may not be such a bad thing.
I have come down from the clouds a little bit and back into reality. I did that night, too, long enough to ask some questions and get some answers. He gave me his word that he won’t disappear on me again. And I want to believe him, but I am scared. He has broken my heart before and he has the power to do it again. It would appear that we are going to give “us” another try. I’m hesitant. Not because I don’t think he is incredible or because I don’t envision our lives together, I do. But I’m guarded this time. I don’t know if I can handle having my breath taken away for good, and that may happen if he disappoints me again.
So where are we now? I don’t know exactly. I am taking it slowly, seeing how things play out. He is coming to NYC with his squadron, as he told me, and I guess we will see what happens then. In the mean time, even though I would drop it all to be with him, I am going about the business of My Quest. The answers I seek are coming to me and each week I get closer and closer to filling in the gaps. The day after I met The Marine I called my mom and told her “I met the man I’m going to marry.” “But you don’t believe in marriage,” she reminded me. Maybe I just needed something to believe in. What if I was right?
Bonus Features:
*close to his family
*wants his own family
*makes me feel at home
*smells delicious
*has a magnetic body, or so I think since it’s hard for me to take my hands off whenever I’m near him
*the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen
*extremely intelligent
*very dedicated to his work
As-Is Defaults:
*comes “as-is”
*has let me down before
*works even more ridiculous hours than I do
Age: 39
Height: 6’0
Met: At my favorite pub
Think Mark Harmon 15 years ago with broader shoulders
There are certain things in life that if you don’t do them for awhile, like take a bite of chocolate after giving it up for lent, or seeing “The Nutcracker” at Lincoln Center, that it feels like the first time all over again. The Marine, who you’ve heard about since the beginning, and I never truly had a first date. We met last spring. It was the day before a big opening and I had planned on going to bed early that night so I could get some beauty rest. Not only was there an opening the next night, but a date with a 70’s icon was to follow, also. But that afternoon my roommate called to see if I wanted to join her and a friend for dinner. I didn’t really but decided to go anyway. I went shopping for opening night accessories after work and waited to hear from my roomie. Around 7:00 I finally heard from her that dinner was cancelled as she wasn’t feeling well. I was superbly annoyed. I hadn’t even wanted to stay in the city but did for her. Not only was it the first Yankees v. Red Sox game of the season that night but also a Rangers playoff game!!!
It was too late to go home. I would miss the first few innings/period of the games if I got on a train now!!! So I took my shopping bags and tired self to my favorite pub and settled in amongst all the sports fans crowding the bar. It was a great night! Both teams won in dramatic fashion and I was thrilled to have been amongst new, rowdy friends to see it.
The place was starting to clear out as I finished my pint so I closed out my tab. I leaned across the bar to kiss my friend Rory good-bye and just as I was pulling on my jacket a group of about 20 good looking men in suits walked through the door. Rory and I shared a look and I said “looks like I’m gonna stay after all!”
Turns out they were Marines in town from D.C. for the pope’s visit. Most of them were married but I was having a great time with them. I kept hearing “You have to meet [The Marine]. Where’s [The Marine]?” I’m like, “fellas, you keep talkin’ about this guy, but where is he?!” And then suddenly, there he was. No bells and whistles. Quite the opposite. All of the noise in the massive bar disappeared into the night as we sat together for hours. I didn’t want that night to ever end. So many things happened in those first few hours that I can’t even tell you. Maybe later. But when he walked me to my train and kissed me for the first time I thought to myself, “This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for.” And it was the end of life as I knew it.
Fast forward to later that year and after months of turbulence The Marine disappeared. The last time I saw him everything seemed perfect. I was going to come down to D.C. to see him in a couple of weeks and he was going to meet my sister for the first time at her birthday party. But nothing. He fell off the face of my earth and I was heartbroken. I met a man who made me want to get married after not believing in the institution for the whole of my life and he just vanished as if he’d never been there. On New Year’s Eve I was laying on my couch watching an old movie when I got an unexpected text from him. “You’re better off without me.” He was wrong and I was angry.
When The Ramone came into my life, the hurt caused by The Marine went away for the most part. But he didn’t go away. I thought about him all the time. Even when I was with The Ramone. Opening day was the one year anniversary of the day we met. As The Ramone and I sat at the McDonald’s across the street from the Stadium having breakfast I got a text saying “Happy Anniversary!” The Ramone’s response was “who the hell do you know is texting you at 8:30 in the morning?”
I heard from The Marine every so often. Just sort of touching base. Nothing big. A few weeks ago my father passed away. I hadn’t seen or spoken to the man in over 10 years and the loss was difficult in ways that I didn’t expect. Where I had told The Ramone everything about my troubled past, The Marine had no idea. He just knew that my father had died. My two best friends answered the call of duty as I expected. But where The Ramone unexpectedly dropped the ball, The Marine stepped up to the plate. He stepped up in a big way. In so big of a way that I didn’t want to be at home by myself. I wanted to be with him and to my surprise he agreed.
So as I mentioned last week I headed to D.C. First dates have become second nature to me. With this project I am finding that the nerves and anticipation that normally accompany a first date haven’t been showing up, until this night. I don’t recall the last time that I was so nervous. I hadn’t seen my Marine in almost a year and the idea of seeing him now both terrified me and excited me in ways I didn’t understand. There was a mirror on the wall in front of me and I saw the reflection of him stroll up behind me. I did my best not to leap into his arms, and think I pulled off a fairly steady hug. It felt so good to be in his arms in that moment, both because I just wanted someone to hold me after the worst week of my life and because I felt like I’d come home.
He’s a quiet man, The Marine. He doesn’t fill the air with thoughtless banter the way I do, but when he has something to say it is pertinent, poignant, and often really clever. The Yankees were on in this Arlington bar because they were playing in Baltimore and he got to see me watch my boys for the first time. He was extremely amused. He’s not actually a big baseball fan and I got to fill him in a little bit which was exciting for me.
We had one drink and then he suggested we “get out of here.” Once “out of here” he asked if I wanted to go somewhere else or… I suggested we just walk for a bit. As we walked he massaged my shoulders which were extremely tense. Under his hands I can turn to butter. When he asked about the funeral and my week I avoided it and said I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. We walked, fingers intertwined, for a bit and he said “you’ll get to see me next week, too.” He didn’t have to tell me that he was going to be up in New York but he wanted to see me again I guess.
We found ourselves in a plaza with a fountain and stopped. Standing toe to toe we laughed, and talked. For a while we stood, my arms around his neck, his around my waist, just relaxing there. Then he started doing one of the things I love most about him, exploring. It is hard for The Marine to just be with me and not explore me, and that is what it is, exploring. His hands wander my body. Brushing across my face and through my hair. His eyes often times will follow the trail of his hands, and will search my face for deeply intense moments. I don’t know what it is he is searching for. I pointed it out to him and let him in on the fact that it is one of my favorite things. “It may not be a good thing” was his reply. “No, I’m pretty sure it is.”
There, in the light of an almost full moon, perfectly framed between two identical residential towers and in front of a beautiful fountain he kissed me again, for the first time. It felt like the first time all over again. It turns out he had never really disappeared because I had never really let him go. Suddenly all of the sadness and anger and confusion of the last week of my life fell away. The past was simply that, and the future in that moment when he kissed me again was limitless. He takes my breath away, and that, though dangerous, may not be such a bad thing.
I have come down from the clouds a little bit and back into reality. I did that night, too, long enough to ask some questions and get some answers. He gave me his word that he won’t disappear on me again. And I want to believe him, but I am scared. He has broken my heart before and he has the power to do it again. It would appear that we are going to give “us” another try. I’m hesitant. Not because I don’t think he is incredible or because I don’t envision our lives together, I do. But I’m guarded this time. I don’t know if I can handle having my breath taken away for good, and that may happen if he disappoints me again.
So where are we now? I don’t know exactly. I am taking it slowly, seeing how things play out. He is coming to NYC with his squadron, as he told me, and I guess we will see what happens then. In the mean time, even though I would drop it all to be with him, I am going about the business of My Quest. The answers I seek are coming to me and each week I get closer and closer to filling in the gaps. The day after I met The Marine I called my mom and told her “I met the man I’m going to marry.” “But you don’t believe in marriage,” she reminded me. Maybe I just needed something to believe in. What if I was right?
Bonus Features:
*close to his family
*wants his own family
*makes me feel at home
*smells delicious
*has a magnetic body, or so I think since it’s hard for me to take my hands off whenever I’m near him
*the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen
*extremely intelligent
*very dedicated to his work
As-Is Defaults:
*comes “as-is”
*has let me down before
*works even more ridiculous hours than I do
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Giving D.C. Another Chance with #17
G.I. Joe
Height: 5’9-ish
Age: 28
Met: asking for directions
Looks like an Army guy, if you’ve spent time in a military community, you know what I mean
I went to D.C. to see a friend. Okay, I went to D.C. to see The Marine (insert lecture from little sister). My bus got in at 5:45, a half hour early, and on top of it The Marine was going to be another few hours at work. Did I mention how much he works in my first entry? I thought so. I popped into Barnes & Noble for a couple of minutes while waiting to hear if my disapproving little sister was a round for a happy hour drink. She was already committed otherwise. Instead of hanging out in a neighborhood I’m already familiar with I decided to head out to Arlington where I would have to end up eventually anyway. I’m an explorer at heart and was excited as I boarded the Metro, heading to a new neighborhood. I’m sure some of the excitement had to do with seeing The Marine for the first time in a year.
I got out to Arlington and realized I was hungry as soon as I saw Cosi, so stopped in for a quick salad. My exploring was cut short when I saw the beaconing light of a Macy’s sign in the distance. A girl’s love of shoes is hard to ignore. It didn’t take long to wander through this small store and I headed back out, looking for a place I could sit and watch the game. The Yanks were playing in Baltimore so I could see it, even being in Washington. Not wanting to go to a commercial place I had been before I passed several options and was thrilled to find a local Irish pub. Sadly, they were having a big fantasy football event and there wasn’t any baseball to watch, so I continued on.
The neighborhood seemed to go suddenly from suburban commercial to dark and unsafe. It really just happened to be part of the Capitals ice arena, the parking garage part, so I was in no danger, but I was happy to turn the corner and be back in the glow of some neon lights. I had been looking for someone I could ask a suggestion of, but so far everyone seemed to be running with headphones in. The first guy I saw walking by himself, not in running gear, proved to be helpful. Not only did he give me the name of a place where I could sit and watch the game, he offered to take me there and buy me a drink. He was pretty handsome, didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, and the place was two doors down and busy so I happily accepted.
A formerly enlisted soldier, G.I. Joe now works in an office in the D.C. area. Really, when I asked what he does he said “I work in an office.” I came clean right away and when I told him that I was actually killing time before meeting someone else he said “that’s ok. As long as I have enough time to convince you to give me your number.” That had me sold. Unlike anyone else I know who lives in the D.C. area, he is actually from there, born and raised. Like me, he is the middle of three children. Like most of the men I have ever gone out with, he went from being totally turned on by me being so into the game, to being completely defeated and castrated when he realized I am an informed fan, not just one who wears the clothes. This is always the case. The Ramone is the only guy I’ve ever gone out with who appreciates my knowledge of stats and rules.
If it hadn’t been for the game I don’t know that we would have had anything to talk about. I had such hopes for his charm after the “give me your number” line that I was pretty disappointed that he ended up being a bit of a wet rag. A wet rag who uses the “f-word” an awful lot. I had already given him my number but by the time he left I had kind of assumed he wouldn’t use it. Fifteen minutes after he left I got a text from him, telling me if my evening with The Marine was a bust to give him a call. Then they kept coming. At first it was cute and kind of flattering that he didn’t get enough of me in the hour we spent together. But when he persisted it just got irritating. When The Marine finally arrived, I shut off me phone, knowing that telling G.I. Joe I was with company now wouldn’t stop him. And it didn’t. When I turned my phone back on later I had several messages from him.
He was a great distraction. If I hadn’t had someone to talk to the time waiting for The Marine to arrive would have been fraught with angst and nervous anticipation. Unlike any of the others, G.I. Joe is still in touch. A lot. Even if I tell him I’m at work I keep hearing from him. I’ve always been a girl who likes to be in touch often, but now I know that there is a point when it just becomes annoying. I’m making a mental note to keep that in mind when I feel the need to be in constant contact with whomever has my interest peaked. Right now, that would be The Marine, but more on that later. In the mean time, Operation Ignore is under way to see if G.I. Joe will ease up on his unlimited text plan.
Bonus Features:
*lives in the moment
*served his country
As-Is Defaults:
*swears too much
*clingy (this may not be a bad thing if I was interested)
Height: 5’9-ish
Age: 28
Met: asking for directions
Looks like an Army guy, if you’ve spent time in a military community, you know what I mean
I went to D.C. to see a friend. Okay, I went to D.C. to see The Marine (insert lecture from little sister). My bus got in at 5:45, a half hour early, and on top of it The Marine was going to be another few hours at work. Did I mention how much he works in my first entry? I thought so. I popped into Barnes & Noble for a couple of minutes while waiting to hear if my disapproving little sister was a round for a happy hour drink. She was already committed otherwise. Instead of hanging out in a neighborhood I’m already familiar with I decided to head out to Arlington where I would have to end up eventually anyway. I’m an explorer at heart and was excited as I boarded the Metro, heading to a new neighborhood. I’m sure some of the excitement had to do with seeing The Marine for the first time in a year.
I got out to Arlington and realized I was hungry as soon as I saw Cosi, so stopped in for a quick salad. My exploring was cut short when I saw the beaconing light of a Macy’s sign in the distance. A girl’s love of shoes is hard to ignore. It didn’t take long to wander through this small store and I headed back out, looking for a place I could sit and watch the game. The Yanks were playing in Baltimore so I could see it, even being in Washington. Not wanting to go to a commercial place I had been before I passed several options and was thrilled to find a local Irish pub. Sadly, they were having a big fantasy football event and there wasn’t any baseball to watch, so I continued on.
The neighborhood seemed to go suddenly from suburban commercial to dark and unsafe. It really just happened to be part of the Capitals ice arena, the parking garage part, so I was in no danger, but I was happy to turn the corner and be back in the glow of some neon lights. I had been looking for someone I could ask a suggestion of, but so far everyone seemed to be running with headphones in. The first guy I saw walking by himself, not in running gear, proved to be helpful. Not only did he give me the name of a place where I could sit and watch the game, he offered to take me there and buy me a drink. He was pretty handsome, didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, and the place was two doors down and busy so I happily accepted.
A formerly enlisted soldier, G.I. Joe now works in an office in the D.C. area. Really, when I asked what he does he said “I work in an office.” I came clean right away and when I told him that I was actually killing time before meeting someone else he said “that’s ok. As long as I have enough time to convince you to give me your number.” That had me sold. Unlike anyone else I know who lives in the D.C. area, he is actually from there, born and raised. Like me, he is the middle of three children. Like most of the men I have ever gone out with, he went from being totally turned on by me being so into the game, to being completely defeated and castrated when he realized I am an informed fan, not just one who wears the clothes. This is always the case. The Ramone is the only guy I’ve ever gone out with who appreciates my knowledge of stats and rules.
If it hadn’t been for the game I don’t know that we would have had anything to talk about. I had such hopes for his charm after the “give me your number” line that I was pretty disappointed that he ended up being a bit of a wet rag. A wet rag who uses the “f-word” an awful lot. I had already given him my number but by the time he left I had kind of assumed he wouldn’t use it. Fifteen minutes after he left I got a text from him, telling me if my evening with The Marine was a bust to give him a call. Then they kept coming. At first it was cute and kind of flattering that he didn’t get enough of me in the hour we spent together. But when he persisted it just got irritating. When The Marine finally arrived, I shut off me phone, knowing that telling G.I. Joe I was with company now wouldn’t stop him. And it didn’t. When I turned my phone back on later I had several messages from him.
He was a great distraction. If I hadn’t had someone to talk to the time waiting for The Marine to arrive would have been fraught with angst and nervous anticipation. Unlike any of the others, G.I. Joe is still in touch. A lot. Even if I tell him I’m at work I keep hearing from him. I’ve always been a girl who likes to be in touch often, but now I know that there is a point when it just becomes annoying. I’m making a mental note to keep that in mind when I feel the need to be in constant contact with whomever has my interest peaked. Right now, that would be The Marine, but more on that later. In the mean time, Operation Ignore is under way to see if G.I. Joe will ease up on his unlimited text plan.
Bonus Features:
*lives in the moment
*served his country
As-Is Defaults:
*swears too much
*clingy (this may not be a bad thing if I was interested)
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
A Bostionian in New York; #16
The Bostonian
Height: 6’2
Age: 41
Met: Online
A taller, salt and pepper version of Chris O’Donnell
They say that good things come to those who wait. In my experience, the more I wait, the worse the heartache and the deeper the decline of self confidence and security. But all of my past relationships aside, I decided my bitterness didn’t apply to a first date. A year ago I would have been irritated and head-strong if I first made contact with a man and didn’t get the opportunity to meet him until 7 weeks later, but right now I have nothing to lose.
I first heard from The Bostonian in July. So long ago, in fact, that I can’t even look at our entire correspondence because Match.com automatically deleted it. His dating “headline” read: “Any fun, health conscious athletic poets out there? Kindness trumps all else.” Kindness trumps long flowing hair? A great rack? A 24 inch waist? Can’t be possible! But in e-mailing back and forth I started to believe that it was.
It seemed that anytime one of us was available to meet up the other one wasn’t. Not making matters any easier, he works all week in Boston and spends only some weekends in New York. I was surprised to hear from him on Friday night, asking if I was free at all over the weekend. Though I was working all weekend I was able to meet for an afternoon coffee. I suggested meeting in Union Square Park and he suggested a well known coffee shop in the area which I had never been to.
I got up Saturday morning and got myself ready for both date and work and headed into the city. I got into the neighborhood a little early so decided to do some shoe shopping before my 3:00 date. At 2:45 I got a text asking if we could push back to 3:45. What’s one of my biggest pet peeves? Punctuality. I was really irritated but had nothing better to do so said “sure but I won’t have much time.”
I arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early and checked in with the hostess who wouldn’t seat me until the rest of my party arrived. This has always driven me nuts about NYC. Luckily it wasn’t but a minute later when I saw someone who, even with sunglasses, resembled the man I had seen in the pictures. I said his name and he turned around with a big grin on his face and immediately gave me a big hug, as if we had been old friends. The hostess directed us to our table and handed us beverage menus (I had already told her we weren’t eating).
As soon as he took his sunglasses off I realized that the photos I had seen had not done justice for this Bostonian’s eyes. They are perfectly shaped, a beautiful blue-gray, and, for having been around for several decades, showed few signs of age. A bit heavier than I had imagined and not as infectious a smile as when photographed, he was definitely as handsome as I had hoped he’d be.
The first thing he wanted to hear about was my new job and he was really excited about it. We talked at length about my new career venture and he insisted that “[I’m] going to be the most popular woman in Manhattan!” He was exaggerating but I liked the sound of it. His work had taken him to London and Paris for several years, and now back and forth on the East Coast, but I realized I have no idea what he does. His career found him working at the White House during the Clinton administration, which is supremely exciting for me, but I don’t know what kind of work he does. I suppose knowing that he is a Democrat is enough for me.
It turns out that we have quite a bit in common. We were both raised by single mothers after being abandoned by our fathers. We were both estranged over a decade when our fathers passed away. We both suffer from middle child syndrome, though he is the second of four and I am the middle of three. And surprisingly, we both are overwhelmed by existential thought. He is even researching to write a novel on parallel universes and quantum physics. I couldn’t believe it when he had seen and loved the film “What the Bleep Do We Know?”
It was really easy to talk to him and I feel cheated that he robbed me of 45 minutes of conversation. He said that he was beginning to worry that we would never meet and he’d always have to wonder about me. I was pleased that he didn’t bring up baseball, as I already knew he was a Red Sox fan. It didn’t come up until the waiter brought us our check and the Bostonian pulled out a Red Sox debit card. Ugh. I don’t know if that is something I could ever get over!
All and all I was sad to have to leave so soon, as I could have sat and talked with him for a couple more hours. I don’t know that I will see him again. We parted with him saying “I’ll see you again, soon” but I don’t know if it will happen, or is meant to be. Though I could just swim in his eyes, I didn’t feel that tingly sexual chemistry you want to have on a first date. The kind I had with Dr. Drummer, The Marine, and The Ramone. I guess we will let it work itself out. He was definitely worth the wait.
Bonus Featured:
*beautiful eyes
*philosophic
*supportive and optimistic
As-Is Defaults:
*a Boston Red Sox fan
*punctuality, or possible lack thereof
Height: 6’2
Age: 41
Met: Online
A taller, salt and pepper version of Chris O’Donnell
They say that good things come to those who wait. In my experience, the more I wait, the worse the heartache and the deeper the decline of self confidence and security. But all of my past relationships aside, I decided my bitterness didn’t apply to a first date. A year ago I would have been irritated and head-strong if I first made contact with a man and didn’t get the opportunity to meet him until 7 weeks later, but right now I have nothing to lose.
I first heard from The Bostonian in July. So long ago, in fact, that I can’t even look at our entire correspondence because Match.com automatically deleted it. His dating “headline” read: “Any fun, health conscious athletic poets out there? Kindness trumps all else.” Kindness trumps long flowing hair? A great rack? A 24 inch waist? Can’t be possible! But in e-mailing back and forth I started to believe that it was.
It seemed that anytime one of us was available to meet up the other one wasn’t. Not making matters any easier, he works all week in Boston and spends only some weekends in New York. I was surprised to hear from him on Friday night, asking if I was free at all over the weekend. Though I was working all weekend I was able to meet for an afternoon coffee. I suggested meeting in Union Square Park and he suggested a well known coffee shop in the area which I had never been to.
I got up Saturday morning and got myself ready for both date and work and headed into the city. I got into the neighborhood a little early so decided to do some shoe shopping before my 3:00 date. At 2:45 I got a text asking if we could push back to 3:45. What’s one of my biggest pet peeves? Punctuality. I was really irritated but had nothing better to do so said “sure but I won’t have much time.”
I arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early and checked in with the hostess who wouldn’t seat me until the rest of my party arrived. This has always driven me nuts about NYC. Luckily it wasn’t but a minute later when I saw someone who, even with sunglasses, resembled the man I had seen in the pictures. I said his name and he turned around with a big grin on his face and immediately gave me a big hug, as if we had been old friends. The hostess directed us to our table and handed us beverage menus (I had already told her we weren’t eating).
As soon as he took his sunglasses off I realized that the photos I had seen had not done justice for this Bostonian’s eyes. They are perfectly shaped, a beautiful blue-gray, and, for having been around for several decades, showed few signs of age. A bit heavier than I had imagined and not as infectious a smile as when photographed, he was definitely as handsome as I had hoped he’d be.
The first thing he wanted to hear about was my new job and he was really excited about it. We talked at length about my new career venture and he insisted that “[I’m] going to be the most popular woman in Manhattan!” He was exaggerating but I liked the sound of it. His work had taken him to London and Paris for several years, and now back and forth on the East Coast, but I realized I have no idea what he does. His career found him working at the White House during the Clinton administration, which is supremely exciting for me, but I don’t know what kind of work he does. I suppose knowing that he is a Democrat is enough for me.
It turns out that we have quite a bit in common. We were both raised by single mothers after being abandoned by our fathers. We were both estranged over a decade when our fathers passed away. We both suffer from middle child syndrome, though he is the second of four and I am the middle of three. And surprisingly, we both are overwhelmed by existential thought. He is even researching to write a novel on parallel universes and quantum physics. I couldn’t believe it when he had seen and loved the film “What the Bleep Do We Know?”
It was really easy to talk to him and I feel cheated that he robbed me of 45 minutes of conversation. He said that he was beginning to worry that we would never meet and he’d always have to wonder about me. I was pleased that he didn’t bring up baseball, as I already knew he was a Red Sox fan. It didn’t come up until the waiter brought us our check and the Bostonian pulled out a Red Sox debit card. Ugh. I don’t know if that is something I could ever get over!
All and all I was sad to have to leave so soon, as I could have sat and talked with him for a couple more hours. I don’t know that I will see him again. We parted with him saying “I’ll see you again, soon” but I don’t know if it will happen, or is meant to be. Though I could just swim in his eyes, I didn’t feel that tingly sexual chemistry you want to have on a first date. The kind I had with Dr. Drummer, The Marine, and The Ramone. I guess we will let it work itself out. He was definitely worth the wait.
Bonus Featured:
*beautiful eyes
*philosophic
*supportive and optimistic
As-Is Defaults:
*a Boston Red Sox fan
*punctuality, or possible lack thereof
Thursday, September 3, 2009
A Walk in the Dark; #15
Night Walker
Height: 5'7
Age: early-mid 30s
Met: On the street
Looks a lot like the actor Mark Feurstein
There are some fabulous people in my life, both of the flamboyant and generous variety. My friend, Christine, is one of the latter. Very soon she will head to Ethiopia where she will be teaching math for two years. So as much as I wanted to stay home on this particular Friday night (let’s face it, Friday’s haven’t been exactly friendly to me recently) there was no way I could miss her going away party. Out of my apartment and into the heavy humidity of Manhattan I went.
Though I had only intended on popping in for a quick farewell hug, I found conversation easy with the other guests and passed four hours in banter. About an hour before I left I received an e-mail alerting me to a delay on my train line due to a police investigation. I had forgotten about it until I went downstairs to find hundreds of people waiting on the train platform.
Instead of waiting in the sweltering station (something you don’t do after only one pint) I decided to walk down and catch the inbound train that would likely be empty and air-conditioned at 23rd Street knowing it would turn right back around and head to N.J. Once at the Chelsea station I found the northbound platform closed. I could have given up and waited for the overcrowded outbound train on the overcrowded southbound platform but was really attached to the idea of the empty, air-conditioned car. “I’ll just meet the train at 9th Street.” So I trudged up the steps to street level and nearly bump into a man once there. He smiled and continued walking, in my direction.
It only took about a block and half to realize that we were walking at the same pace, and being the same height, at the same length stride. He must have noticed too because he kept checking over his left shoulder to see if I was still there. At 17th Street I caught my breath as I watched him step out in front of a swerving taxi. The jump back to the curb put us shoulder to shoulder. Without looking at him I said, “Please don’t get hit by a cab while you’re on my watch.” He laughed and apologized for the “near traumatic experience.”
When the line of cars passed we both set off on the right foot, same pace. This time side by side we came to a stop halfway down the block and started laughing. Through laughter he said, “Look, if you are going to follow me can we at least slow it down to a talking speed.” So we did and we walked and talked until we got to 9th Street. I wasn’t keen on the idea of getting on that air-conditioned train anymore and was delighted when he asked if I might join him for a drink, since he’d “gotten used to the company.”
The two of us walked around the corner to a pub I am familiar with (the pub where I met #2 actually) and pulled up next to the bar where he ordered us a couple of Bass pints. To look at him you might think the Night Walker was about as straight laced a guy as you can come by. Nice jeans, sneakers, a dry cleaned button up shirt and traditionally short, conservative haircut led me to believe, correctly so, that he worked in finance. But he’s a funny finance guy. This is hard to come by.
We sat with our beers discussing Christine’s upcoming adventure, my new job, and his fear that he may lose his. A Long Island boy, I was pleased he didn’t have the L.I. accent (no offense to any of my native Long Islanders). A lifelong Yankees fan, that alone could have given us hours more of conversation if I wasn’t beat. Remember, I didn’t even want to leave my apartment 6 hours earlier. I regretfully told him I needed to get going, and he offered to walk me to the train. I happily accepted his offer.
He informed me on our slow, leisurely walk back that he had been heading home when I started following him but he “wasn’t about to let [me] get away without so much as a drink”. That always makes you feel good, and I definitely blushed. Blushing is rare for me but I’m trying to get more into the habit. I thanked him for changing his plans to accommodate me. He told me it was really great to meet me and to get home safely as he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Because of this I was surprised that he didn’t ask for my number and I’m not forcing it these days. So, a little disappointed, I turned and headed down to the train. I like to imagine that when he got in to his apartment and closed the door that he had one of those “oh sh*t moments” when he realized he hadn’t gotten my number. I would have definitely seen him again. Maybe our paths will cross again sometime.
Thanks for getting me out of the house, Christine!
Bonus Features:
*takes life as it comes
*dimples :)
*mildly perverse sense of humor
AS-Is Defaults:
*I’d be taller than him in heels
Height: 5'7
Age: early-mid 30s
Met: On the street
Looks a lot like the actor Mark Feurstein
There are some fabulous people in my life, both of the flamboyant and generous variety. My friend, Christine, is one of the latter. Very soon she will head to Ethiopia where she will be teaching math for two years. So as much as I wanted to stay home on this particular Friday night (let’s face it, Friday’s haven’t been exactly friendly to me recently) there was no way I could miss her going away party. Out of my apartment and into the heavy humidity of Manhattan I went.
Though I had only intended on popping in for a quick farewell hug, I found conversation easy with the other guests and passed four hours in banter. About an hour before I left I received an e-mail alerting me to a delay on my train line due to a police investigation. I had forgotten about it until I went downstairs to find hundreds of people waiting on the train platform.
Instead of waiting in the sweltering station (something you don’t do after only one pint) I decided to walk down and catch the inbound train that would likely be empty and air-conditioned at 23rd Street knowing it would turn right back around and head to N.J. Once at the Chelsea station I found the northbound platform closed. I could have given up and waited for the overcrowded outbound train on the overcrowded southbound platform but was really attached to the idea of the empty, air-conditioned car. “I’ll just meet the train at 9th Street.” So I trudged up the steps to street level and nearly bump into a man once there. He smiled and continued walking, in my direction.
It only took about a block and half to realize that we were walking at the same pace, and being the same height, at the same length stride. He must have noticed too because he kept checking over his left shoulder to see if I was still there. At 17th Street I caught my breath as I watched him step out in front of a swerving taxi. The jump back to the curb put us shoulder to shoulder. Without looking at him I said, “Please don’t get hit by a cab while you’re on my watch.” He laughed and apologized for the “near traumatic experience.”
When the line of cars passed we both set off on the right foot, same pace. This time side by side we came to a stop halfway down the block and started laughing. Through laughter he said, “Look, if you are going to follow me can we at least slow it down to a talking speed.” So we did and we walked and talked until we got to 9th Street. I wasn’t keen on the idea of getting on that air-conditioned train anymore and was delighted when he asked if I might join him for a drink, since he’d “gotten used to the company.”
The two of us walked around the corner to a pub I am familiar with (the pub where I met #2 actually) and pulled up next to the bar where he ordered us a couple of Bass pints. To look at him you might think the Night Walker was about as straight laced a guy as you can come by. Nice jeans, sneakers, a dry cleaned button up shirt and traditionally short, conservative haircut led me to believe, correctly so, that he worked in finance. But he’s a funny finance guy. This is hard to come by.
We sat with our beers discussing Christine’s upcoming adventure, my new job, and his fear that he may lose his. A Long Island boy, I was pleased he didn’t have the L.I. accent (no offense to any of my native Long Islanders). A lifelong Yankees fan, that alone could have given us hours more of conversation if I wasn’t beat. Remember, I didn’t even want to leave my apartment 6 hours earlier. I regretfully told him I needed to get going, and he offered to walk me to the train. I happily accepted his offer.
He informed me on our slow, leisurely walk back that he had been heading home when I started following him but he “wasn’t about to let [me] get away without so much as a drink”. That always makes you feel good, and I definitely blushed. Blushing is rare for me but I’m trying to get more into the habit. I thanked him for changing his plans to accommodate me. He told me it was really great to meet me and to get home safely as he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Because of this I was surprised that he didn’t ask for my number and I’m not forcing it these days. So, a little disappointed, I turned and headed down to the train. I like to imagine that when he got in to his apartment and closed the door that he had one of those “oh sh*t moments” when he realized he hadn’t gotten my number. I would have definitely seen him again. Maybe our paths will cross again sometime.
Thanks for getting me out of the house, Christine!
Bonus Features:
*takes life as it comes
*dimples :)
*mildly perverse sense of humor
AS-Is Defaults:
*I’d be taller than him in heels
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Beat Out That Rhythm On My Heart #14
Dr. Drummer
Height: 5’9
Age: 36
Moderately built, dark, mysterious, yummy
Remember Luca on “E.R.”? Other than the long, dark locks that you imagine your fingers getting lost in, he has nothing on this guy! Noah Wylie? Ha! John Stamos? Nothin’! OK, well maybe John Stamos has something, but I digress. Here’s the thing about fantasies: they are different for everyone. I can’t tell you that Dr. Drummer is the man of your “Scrubs” fantasy, but I can tell you that if I’d had a doctor fantasy before tonight it would be a half hour on a gurney with this guy. Secret? Since I left him that’s all I can think about. But let’s start from the beginning.
I get an online wink from a guy. Like most, before delving into the written part of the profile I go through all of the pictures. A dozen or so pictures and I’m not overly impressed. Not really my type. But after reading what he has to say about himself, his life, and the “partner in crime” he is looking for, I decide he was worth a response. If for no other reason I am intrigued by the “ER doctor/Drummer” occupation he has listed. It takes about four exchanges to set up a late drink after #13 who was already scheduled early. Why not fit another one in so I only have to get dressed once?
I’m excited that I don’t have to do any of the work to set it up, other than telling him when I’m free. He asks me to meet him at a place on Madison and 36th that I have never heard of before which is always great. I get there fifteen minutes early and sit down with the beer menu. I am impressed. Its either coincidence or he has picked this place because of its wide beer selection and I mention liking dark beers in my profile. He hasn’t even shown up yet and I am impressed. Then he shows up and it is 9:28. Two minutes early! Impressed again. He’s better looking in person, in jeans and a cool tee-shirt with a black beaded necklace, than his photos do him justice, but I’m still not blown away.
He sits down and orders beer, apologizing for keeping me waiting. As I’m thinking about how to explain the launch pad for the best date I have had in years I’m realizing that there is no way I can describe to you the night that we had. I guess I’ll start with the first thing that made me sit up and take notice. We had been talking about our work and our passion. He is an ER doctor by trade but moonlights as a drummer, for which he is scheduled to go on a European tour later this year. Very cool. After mentioning to him that I would like to go back to school to be a teacher he said “I’ve known you for all of ten minutes and I can see that.” This may not seem like a big deal, but most of the people I meet in the city can’t really relate to me in education so that meant a lot.
From there it just ignited. I volunteer at a youth conference for a week every summer and where most guys zone out as I talk about he listened and ask inquiring questions about it for a half hour. He has a younger sister who, although they are from San Diego, also lives in the city and is a musical theatre performer, so he has an idea of the work that I do. We both use Mexican food, specifically Qdoba, in place of illegal substances. We share a mutual disdain for Eli Manning. I mean, it just goes on and on and on.
Someone whom I had very little expectation in blew me away. At one point my bangs fell onto my face and swept them back behind my ear. Be still my beating heart. I blew him away by not only tolerating his ER stories, but by encouraging as much graphic detail as possible. I love that stuff! At one point when talking about a surgical procedure he used me as a dummy, his forefinger as a scalpel, and sliced open my sternum and my heart literally jumped out of my mouth.
I generally allot one and a half hours for a first date. That’s plenty of time to get a feel for whether or not you want to spend more time with someone. I met Mr. Drummer at 9:30. 11:00 came without my even noticing. Same with midnight. Then 1, 2 and finally 4a.m. I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. So we walked and laughed, hand in hand, through the streets of Manhattan and it felt incredible. Then he kissed me for the first time on his doorstep. There was no way at this point that I was going to say no. It was the best date I have had in ages and that worries me.
Am I setting myself up for more disappointment? How do I tell him about my quest? After our first evening together he already knows so much about me, and I him, because it was easy to let down our guards. But is that a good thing? We mentioned seeing each other again on Sunday, his next day off but it wasn’t set in stone. Even though I have heard from him fondly, my insecurities are getting the best of me. I know he has the capabilities on the operating table, but he may have other ways of stealing this patient’s heart.
Bonus Features:
*CHEMISTRY
*stable career
*passionate about music
*avid reader of non-fiction (so am I)
*loves sports but isn’t married to them
*close with his sister
*we like to go out in the same neighborhoods
*talked very fondly about his god children
*I could still smell him on me when I woke up the next morning
(I could write a book about the bonus features alone)
As-Is Defaults:
*ummmm, puts in a lot of hours?
Height: 5’9
Age: 36
Moderately built, dark, mysterious, yummy
Remember Luca on “E.R.”? Other than the long, dark locks that you imagine your fingers getting lost in, he has nothing on this guy! Noah Wylie? Ha! John Stamos? Nothin’! OK, well maybe John Stamos has something, but I digress. Here’s the thing about fantasies: they are different for everyone. I can’t tell you that Dr. Drummer is the man of your “Scrubs” fantasy, but I can tell you that if I’d had a doctor fantasy before tonight it would be a half hour on a gurney with this guy. Secret? Since I left him that’s all I can think about. But let’s start from the beginning.
I get an online wink from a guy. Like most, before delving into the written part of the profile I go through all of the pictures. A dozen or so pictures and I’m not overly impressed. Not really my type. But after reading what he has to say about himself, his life, and the “partner in crime” he is looking for, I decide he was worth a response. If for no other reason I am intrigued by the “ER doctor/Drummer” occupation he has listed. It takes about four exchanges to set up a late drink after #13 who was already scheduled early. Why not fit another one in so I only have to get dressed once?
I’m excited that I don’t have to do any of the work to set it up, other than telling him when I’m free. He asks me to meet him at a place on Madison and 36th that I have never heard of before which is always great. I get there fifteen minutes early and sit down with the beer menu. I am impressed. Its either coincidence or he has picked this place because of its wide beer selection and I mention liking dark beers in my profile. He hasn’t even shown up yet and I am impressed. Then he shows up and it is 9:28. Two minutes early! Impressed again. He’s better looking in person, in jeans and a cool tee-shirt with a black beaded necklace, than his photos do him justice, but I’m still not blown away.
He sits down and orders beer, apologizing for keeping me waiting. As I’m thinking about how to explain the launch pad for the best date I have had in years I’m realizing that there is no way I can describe to you the night that we had. I guess I’ll start with the first thing that made me sit up and take notice. We had been talking about our work and our passion. He is an ER doctor by trade but moonlights as a drummer, for which he is scheduled to go on a European tour later this year. Very cool. After mentioning to him that I would like to go back to school to be a teacher he said “I’ve known you for all of ten minutes and I can see that.” This may not seem like a big deal, but most of the people I meet in the city can’t really relate to me in education so that meant a lot.
From there it just ignited. I volunteer at a youth conference for a week every summer and where most guys zone out as I talk about he listened and ask inquiring questions about it for a half hour. He has a younger sister who, although they are from San Diego, also lives in the city and is a musical theatre performer, so he has an idea of the work that I do. We both use Mexican food, specifically Qdoba, in place of illegal substances. We share a mutual disdain for Eli Manning. I mean, it just goes on and on and on.
Someone whom I had very little expectation in blew me away. At one point my bangs fell onto my face and swept them back behind my ear. Be still my beating heart. I blew him away by not only tolerating his ER stories, but by encouraging as much graphic detail as possible. I love that stuff! At one point when talking about a surgical procedure he used me as a dummy, his forefinger as a scalpel, and sliced open my sternum and my heart literally jumped out of my mouth.
I generally allot one and a half hours for a first date. That’s plenty of time to get a feel for whether or not you want to spend more time with someone. I met Mr. Drummer at 9:30. 11:00 came without my even noticing. Same with midnight. Then 1, 2 and finally 4a.m. I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. So we walked and laughed, hand in hand, through the streets of Manhattan and it felt incredible. Then he kissed me for the first time on his doorstep. There was no way at this point that I was going to say no. It was the best date I have had in ages and that worries me.
Am I setting myself up for more disappointment? How do I tell him about my quest? After our first evening together he already knows so much about me, and I him, because it was easy to let down our guards. But is that a good thing? We mentioned seeing each other again on Sunday, his next day off but it wasn’t set in stone. Even though I have heard from him fondly, my insecurities are getting the best of me. I know he has the capabilities on the operating table, but he may have other ways of stealing this patient’s heart.
Bonus Features:
*CHEMISTRY
*stable career
*passionate about music
*avid reader of non-fiction (so am I)
*loves sports but isn’t married to them
*close with his sister
*we like to go out in the same neighborhoods
*talked very fondly about his god children
*I could still smell him on me when I woke up the next morning
(I could write a book about the bonus features alone)
As-Is Defaults:
*ummmm, puts in a lot of hours?
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
#13 Has Always Been My Lucky Number...
YanksFan
Height: 5’5
Age: 27
Met: online
A young Jason Alexander
I knew that there had to come a time when I needed to say “yes” to a guy I would normally say “no” to. This was my first date that I wouldn’t have gone on last year. Not just because of his age. Not necessarily because of a lack of physical attraction. I go out with guys I’m not attracted to all the time. And not just because he is two inches shorter than me. Props go out to a former “acquaintance” who at 5’4 made up for his lack of height in other areas. But add those three things up with an introductory e-mail that left no impression and a profile featuring under 100 words? I would normally not even respond. If someone is using an online dating service I expect him to be putting his best foot forward which generally involves more than “I like BBQs”. But I said that I was going to try different guys on for size, so we set it up.
It would be safe to say that I was going into this one with absolutely no expectation. On top of it I wasn’t feeling fantastic. I actually met him at a place in my neighborhood in Jersey and though I was disappointed that he was drinking a girly beer, he was nicely dressed in a freshly pressed shirt and good jeans, and immediately made me feel comfortable. I could tell that he was nervous so I did my best to lead the conversation. He tried to be interested in my business but I could tell he was faking it. So I moved on to sports, a subject that most guys can talk about, and I can keep up fairly well. Turns out, he is a big Yankees fan, too. He even attended opening day with his dad and some coworkers. I was there too so this gave us quite a bit to talk about. We both shared our disappointment in Joe Torre’s book. It was really easy to talk to him. He made it that way. A CPA at a small firm in the suburbs near where I used to work, we were able to chat about the area, as well.
The only thing that put me off, other than the height and lack of attraction, was his lack of ambition. In conversation it came up that he would love to be a baseball statistician. That is fantastic! For a guy with his background I would think he’d be able to land his dream job fairly easily. I encouraged it. Sadly, he would rather stay where he is, even though he isn’t happy, because he is making decent money and doesn’t really have to think about it. And that’s, too bad. It’s possible that the thing missing from this guy’s life is a passion and with it he would be fantastic!
All and all, though there was nothing that stood out, I had a good time. Better than to be expected. I even left thinking that should he want to see me again I just might do it. You never know, maybe his teddy bear quality (with the exception of the really hairy back I could feel through his shirt when he hugged me) would grow on me after a little more time. And he did ask me out again. I had an e-mail from him the next morning. If only I hadn’t met a truly stand-out guy later that same night…
Bonus Features:
*put me at ease
*Yankees fan
*very warm
As-Is Defaults:
*lack of ambition or fear of failing
*no physical attraction
*back hair
Height: 5’5
Age: 27
Met: online
A young Jason Alexander
I knew that there had to come a time when I needed to say “yes” to a guy I would normally say “no” to. This was my first date that I wouldn’t have gone on last year. Not just because of his age. Not necessarily because of a lack of physical attraction. I go out with guys I’m not attracted to all the time. And not just because he is two inches shorter than me. Props go out to a former “acquaintance” who at 5’4 made up for his lack of height in other areas. But add those three things up with an introductory e-mail that left no impression and a profile featuring under 100 words? I would normally not even respond. If someone is using an online dating service I expect him to be putting his best foot forward which generally involves more than “I like BBQs”. But I said that I was going to try different guys on for size, so we set it up.
It would be safe to say that I was going into this one with absolutely no expectation. On top of it I wasn’t feeling fantastic. I actually met him at a place in my neighborhood in Jersey and though I was disappointed that he was drinking a girly beer, he was nicely dressed in a freshly pressed shirt and good jeans, and immediately made me feel comfortable. I could tell that he was nervous so I did my best to lead the conversation. He tried to be interested in my business but I could tell he was faking it. So I moved on to sports, a subject that most guys can talk about, and I can keep up fairly well. Turns out, he is a big Yankees fan, too. He even attended opening day with his dad and some coworkers. I was there too so this gave us quite a bit to talk about. We both shared our disappointment in Joe Torre’s book. It was really easy to talk to him. He made it that way. A CPA at a small firm in the suburbs near where I used to work, we were able to chat about the area, as well.
The only thing that put me off, other than the height and lack of attraction, was his lack of ambition. In conversation it came up that he would love to be a baseball statistician. That is fantastic! For a guy with his background I would think he’d be able to land his dream job fairly easily. I encouraged it. Sadly, he would rather stay where he is, even though he isn’t happy, because he is making decent money and doesn’t really have to think about it. And that’s, too bad. It’s possible that the thing missing from this guy’s life is a passion and with it he would be fantastic!
All and all, though there was nothing that stood out, I had a good time. Better than to be expected. I even left thinking that should he want to see me again I just might do it. You never know, maybe his teddy bear quality (with the exception of the really hairy back I could feel through his shirt when he hugged me) would grow on me after a little more time. And he did ask me out again. I had an e-mail from him the next morning. If only I hadn’t met a truly stand-out guy later that same night…
Bonus Features:
*put me at ease
*Yankees fan
*very warm
As-Is Defaults:
*lack of ambition or fear of failing
*no physical attraction
*back hair
Friday, August 14, 2009
My First Reflection
Two months ago I set out on this quest, much in the way Columbus did; with an idea of what I wanted to find or discover, but really sailing blind. A quarter of the way across the Atlantic and I have encountered a couple of storms, discovered a couple of new fish, and even lost a couple of sailors overboard. So where am I now?
First, I am having a great time! Even the dates that a year ago would have sent me to my journal in tears are making for great conversation. I actually think the horrible ones are more fun because I know my readers get a kick out of them. Dating is a miserable process! One of my favorite girlie quotes is from the first episode of “Sex & the City’s” third season. An exasperated Charlotte cries, almost to the gods, “I have been dating since I was 15. I’m exhausted! Where is he!?!?” I have never agreed with that character more wholly. Putting yourself out there repeatedly, with the 50/50 possibility of being rejected, telling the same stories over and over again, often times with the same result is tiring. At times it can be disheartening. We wonder what it is we’re doing wrong. Am I too fat? Too thin? Too boring? Too dumb? Very seldom do we think “clearly he didn’t want to see me again because I am just too beautiful and intelligent.”
So why do we do it? For some it is a sport. For some it is to find a personal Santa Claus. Others may just want to be able to share a few laughs with a warm body. Some may want a couch mate for “The Daily Show”. And still others are looking for that one person who will complete them. I have been ready for the latter for a few years now and optimistically so. Every first date was a new possibility to feel that tingle the first time he touched me or the urge to excuse myself to the ladies room and text my friends of his perfection. The possibility to have the “last first kiss”. That’s a lot of pressure. It’s a big investment.
So what happens when you relieve that pressure? For me I have found that I can actually go out with a new person and share his company without worry. I’m able to be myself in a way that is more truly me than if I was trying to make a good impression, as most of us do in some way on a first date. If he says something offensive or tells me he has a 6th toe on his left foot it doesn’t affect the outcome of the rest of life. You know that feeling? When you go from hopeful to disappointed in a matter of three seconds. No offense to anyone with extra limbs. I am sure I would learn to love it.
I went out for a beer with a straight, male friend of mine a couple of weeks ago and we got to talking about my quest. He had some insightful questions to get me thinking about my desired outcomes. What can I do differently to make the journey smoother or more affective? He also, in defense of his fellow man, asked if I was taking advantage of these guys, in a way setting them up. I can see where some might see that he has a valid point. A wise friend of mine once told me “Each time we feel love it is real. It may not be truly for that person or at that time, but it helps us to explore the depths of our love.” I think of that often and I think it applies here.
With every man I love, I love the next even more. How can you not? If the new love is not greater than a previous, the new romance will always be living in a shadow of the past. Every time we have our heart broken or move away from one relationship we take it with us into the next. For most of us, we don’t settle for something less than what we know to be good. Though I don’t venture out on this quest with a broken heart, I hold with a still heart. One that knows a love and hopes it to be true but won’t deny a real possibility elsewhere.
As expected, I was in touch with the Hometown Hottie steadily for a few days. Unfortunately, in that time I realized that we are two very different people with two very different lives. So even though he made me re-evaluate things for a moment there won’t be a pursuit and it is for the best. I did hear from Bad Cop who claims to have shown up at 7:16 and waited for me for 20 minutes. He also tried to make me feel guilty, saying he’d turned down tickets to the Yanks v. Sox game to see me that night. But didn’t he say he had to work? Yah. I told him he could avoid a similar situation in the future by arriving on time!
Of the first 12, I think I had the truest connection with the Sterilized Brit on Date #1. Yes, he ended up being married, but he was the closest to my perfect match. There have been a couple of men I’ve met who have had something, or done something, that I think would be nice to find in The Ramone, but in the end he is still holding my heart. I also had a brief encounter with a past love. One who I believed then I could share my life with. I was young at the time and very unfortunate incidents lead to our departure. Sitting with him, breathing in a scent I suddenly remembered so vividly, lead me to believe that if given the opportunity I could fall in love with him all over again, in a whole new way. I don’t know how comfortable he is with my most recent project. I’ve found myself thinking about him and wishing he would get comfortable enough to see what might be there several years later.
Quick update on The Ramone: He is back in town after being gone for most of the summer. I have heard from him regularly but seeing each other hasn’t come up. He needs time, and I want him to take it. I would hate for us to push a good thing at a bad time and consequently ruin it all. If he recognizes that my birthday is coming up I will be thrilled. If he doesn’t remember? A part of me will be disappointed, but I won’t be surprised.
So here we go! Into the next round! I want to thank all of you for reading and lending me your support. Hearing from you makes it all worth while and gives me all the motivation I need to keep going. A toast! To the first 12!
Cheers,
(:L:)
First, I am having a great time! Even the dates that a year ago would have sent me to my journal in tears are making for great conversation. I actually think the horrible ones are more fun because I know my readers get a kick out of them. Dating is a miserable process! One of my favorite girlie quotes is from the first episode of “Sex & the City’s” third season. An exasperated Charlotte cries, almost to the gods, “I have been dating since I was 15. I’m exhausted! Where is he!?!?” I have never agreed with that character more wholly. Putting yourself out there repeatedly, with the 50/50 possibility of being rejected, telling the same stories over and over again, often times with the same result is tiring. At times it can be disheartening. We wonder what it is we’re doing wrong. Am I too fat? Too thin? Too boring? Too dumb? Very seldom do we think “clearly he didn’t want to see me again because I am just too beautiful and intelligent.”
So why do we do it? For some it is a sport. For some it is to find a personal Santa Claus. Others may just want to be able to share a few laughs with a warm body. Some may want a couch mate for “The Daily Show”. And still others are looking for that one person who will complete them. I have been ready for the latter for a few years now and optimistically so. Every first date was a new possibility to feel that tingle the first time he touched me or the urge to excuse myself to the ladies room and text my friends of his perfection. The possibility to have the “last first kiss”. That’s a lot of pressure. It’s a big investment.
So what happens when you relieve that pressure? For me I have found that I can actually go out with a new person and share his company without worry. I’m able to be myself in a way that is more truly me than if I was trying to make a good impression, as most of us do in some way on a first date. If he says something offensive or tells me he has a 6th toe on his left foot it doesn’t affect the outcome of the rest of life. You know that feeling? When you go from hopeful to disappointed in a matter of three seconds. No offense to anyone with extra limbs. I am sure I would learn to love it.
I went out for a beer with a straight, male friend of mine a couple of weeks ago and we got to talking about my quest. He had some insightful questions to get me thinking about my desired outcomes. What can I do differently to make the journey smoother or more affective? He also, in defense of his fellow man, asked if I was taking advantage of these guys, in a way setting them up. I can see where some might see that he has a valid point. A wise friend of mine once told me “Each time we feel love it is real. It may not be truly for that person or at that time, but it helps us to explore the depths of our love.” I think of that often and I think it applies here.
With every man I love, I love the next even more. How can you not? If the new love is not greater than a previous, the new romance will always be living in a shadow of the past. Every time we have our heart broken or move away from one relationship we take it with us into the next. For most of us, we don’t settle for something less than what we know to be good. Though I don’t venture out on this quest with a broken heart, I hold with a still heart. One that knows a love and hopes it to be true but won’t deny a real possibility elsewhere.
As expected, I was in touch with the Hometown Hottie steadily for a few days. Unfortunately, in that time I realized that we are two very different people with two very different lives. So even though he made me re-evaluate things for a moment there won’t be a pursuit and it is for the best. I did hear from Bad Cop who claims to have shown up at 7:16 and waited for me for 20 minutes. He also tried to make me feel guilty, saying he’d turned down tickets to the Yanks v. Sox game to see me that night. But didn’t he say he had to work? Yah. I told him he could avoid a similar situation in the future by arriving on time!
Of the first 12, I think I had the truest connection with the Sterilized Brit on Date #1. Yes, he ended up being married, but he was the closest to my perfect match. There have been a couple of men I’ve met who have had something, or done something, that I think would be nice to find in The Ramone, but in the end he is still holding my heart. I also had a brief encounter with a past love. One who I believed then I could share my life with. I was young at the time and very unfortunate incidents lead to our departure. Sitting with him, breathing in a scent I suddenly remembered so vividly, lead me to believe that if given the opportunity I could fall in love with him all over again, in a whole new way. I don’t know how comfortable he is with my most recent project. I’ve found myself thinking about him and wishing he would get comfortable enough to see what might be there several years later.
Quick update on The Ramone: He is back in town after being gone for most of the summer. I have heard from him regularly but seeing each other hasn’t come up. He needs time, and I want him to take it. I would hate for us to push a good thing at a bad time and consequently ruin it all. If he recognizes that my birthday is coming up I will be thrilled. If he doesn’t remember? A part of me will be disappointed, but I won’t be surprised.
So here we go! Into the next round! I want to thank all of you for reading and lending me your support. Hearing from you makes it all worth while and gives me all the motivation I need to keep going. A toast! To the first 12!
Cheers,
(:L:)
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