Yes, it's been a long time. Life has just been happening and I've had some projects I've been busy completing so writing just wasn't in the cards for me. Anyway, life is just so strange sometimes.
I actually went out on a date -- if you can call it that. I met a man for coffee out at a Starbuck's after he gave me his number. It was a disaster from the get-go. I barely knew his last name (and that only from his voicemail) and the man comes up to me and swoops in with the hands and the kiss? Of course I back off and hope he gets the message. You think he did? Oh no. Did he ask my my last name? No to that as well. Mr. Handsy was rubbing my shoulders, telling me he wanted to "feel my hair" and other creepy shit. He didn't care who I was. I could have had a bag over my head and been as dumb as a stump and he still would have wanted to feel my tits.
I told him a few times to stop and he would for a while and then try to move in again. I was thisclose to done by that time anyway and was looking for a graceful exit but then he uttered the line that helped me get there faster. It was the line that I hate most to hear from men, which is, "You just haven't met the right man yet."
Ah, let me count the ways why I hate this line so much. I'm a mature woman. Don't treat me like I'm an inexperienced idiot. Don't condescend or patronize me. Don't imply that I'm not capable of the critical thinking required to extract exactly how I feel and why from the totality of my experiences and my reactions to them. Don't dare insinuate that I don't know my own effing mind. That turns me off like a light switch.
Jesus! You can guess it didn't take me long to exit. See ya 'round. Next!
Later on the same week I took a fellow co-worker (not in my department but on the same floor I work) out for dinner to pay him back for the mechanic work he'd volunteered to do on my car. Now this guy -- this guy is just plain hot. He's got a cyclist's body and a gentle manner. He's all man, don't get me wrong, but he's got layers and he's got a genuine respect for women. He works two jobs and he's a single dad and he's got it going on. I've thought he was attractive for over a year now. Anyway, the problem with this was always my intent not to shit where I eat, ya know?
So yeah, about that....
He stopped by my place, we sat down for a drink or two to unwind before dinner. We got back after a great meal and had another nightcap. Well, I had a nightcap. I wasn't ever even drunk at all. He had four or five straight shots. I didn't mind because I knew that he wanted to unwind a bit and that was his only real night off away from being a full time parent and an employee. I figured he was a big boy and knew how to handle his liquor. In retrospect, he was nervous. He was drunk and sweet and definitely moving into my personal space zone, not that I minded in the least. After it got late I told him he wasn't driving home and rolled out the sleepaway bed....not that we used it.
Wait, though. That sounds a lot worse than it actually was. I mean I knew that I wanted him but I also knew that -- if he knew about what I wasn't capable of -- he'd choose to turn and run. I didn't want him to but I didn't want to start implying promises that I couldn't keep. I was nervous and antsy, not sure when I needed to 'come clean' about that. I felt like I was walking an uncomfortable line. Honestly? I wanted him to know before anything began but I realized he was so drunk -- sick drunk, it ended up -- that it wasn't the right time to talk about it. I thought maybe he wouldn't remember the talk even if we had it, besides being so drunk I figured he probably couldn't make any serious inroads anyway! I'm not so sure about that now, but I was then.
So we ended up sleeping together, but (for the most part, with just a few overtures here and there) we did just that.....sleep. He felt nice curled beside me, I admit, but he felt so miserable that we couldn't really enjoy that, even. Ah well.
So fast forward to the next morning. We woke up, we started talking, I told him all about it and tried to be as matter of fact as I could. I figured that was the end of that so I got up to go to work. He was still a little drunk -- that horrid morning-after sorta sworl -- and he kept telling me over and over to come back to bed. I could tell he wanted me to and as for me? I wanted to but I didn't want to, if that makes sense. He did finally convince me of one thing, though. I was getting changed and he said, "You come up to my desk, lean over, and I'm getting an eyeful. I know you do it on purpose, so come on, show me?" with that twinkle in his voice that just made me smile and want to indulge him. Needless to say, he was impressed. He'd better be. 34FF, baby!
Long story short, I told him to sleep it off in my apartment, lock up, and give me the key later. He chose not to and got up. I truly enjoyed watching him dress. We went to work but he ended up going home within 30 minutes.
So.....I've had a few days to be all retrospect-y. I go back and forth between regretting the chance I didn't take, to being happy I didn't take it and waste it on a drunken muddle, to being all angsty that I won't get another chance, to not wanting that other chance for fear I'll be a disappointment.
I found myself today at work looking over at him and wondering what he was thinking. Is he chagrined that he got that drunk? Embarrassed about it enough to avoid me in the future? I chose to give him some space today but was he thankful, or worried that I was regretting the time we'd spent together? Was HE regretting it?
I have all these questions but no answers yet. I'm adult enough to ask the questions eventually, if they don't get answered on their own.
Maybe next time I need to be a bit more aggressive (even drunk he was rather shy and certainly not pushy, something I liked) and make it so impressive that he wont miss the other part. Then again, after a few months and the newness wears off and it's just sex and obligation and blah blah blah, am I really ready to act a part again like I did with the Ex?
I'm getting ahead of myself. Will there even be a next time?
Jesus, I hate these sorts of thoughts. I wouldn't even give a rat's royal ass if I didn't actually LIKE the guy.
((Song: "Never There" by Cake. Lyrics here: