Monday, August 1, 2011
Chapter 36: Welcome Home to Me
"Timon" called me everyday while I was in Chicago. We enjoyed some late night talks after everyone else had gone to bed, and I was truly looking forward to seeing him again. Maybe all those other "up in the air" guys wouldn't really matter? I'll admit, I started allowing myself to entertain the idea that, once both of our traveling schedules died down, "Timon" and I might be able to start something of substance. But, at this point, it wouldn't be until after next weekend before I could find out.
My last day up there, though, it occurred to me that I didn't have a ride home. I knew I could take the train up to Doraville, and it would be fairly easy for anyone to pick me up and take me home. Mom was still in Pennsylvania, and was actually flying home the same day I was, but her flight didn't arrive until later in the evening, and her boyfriend was picking her up. I couldn't very well ask him to pick me up, just to have to turn around and pick mom up. I had a plenty of friends, and I could ask any one of them. But why? ;) I had boys galore to choose from!
"Timon" was traveling, so he was out. I called "Aladdin", but he had plans and was unable to break free. I didn't WANT to call "Basil," at all. He had sent me an email while I was there, with some non-sensical email about being freaked out. Whatever. Good riddens, buddy. "Kawena" was also unavailable, with apologies, and the conversation turned into a "not really feeling the chemistry" talk. Geez! I wasn't asking for marriage, I just needed a f--king ride! I wasn't so sure I wanted to call "Slim." I was feeling uneasy about what had happened and I wasn't so sure that was a connection I was interested in maintaining.
By the time I was sitting at the airport, waiting on my flight, I started to feel uneasy. How was it possible that, out of all these dates I'd had, not one single guy was willing to give me a stupid ride home from the train station? There was an episode of "Sex and the City" where Samantha (definitely the character I'd been identifying with as of late) had just moved into a new place, and she'd contracted the flu. She hadn't hung her curtains yet, and was too sick to do so, but couldn't rest during the day because of all the daylight pouring through her windows. She went through her little black book and called all the men she slept with to come to her aid, and not one of them came through for her. In the end, her best friend's, Carrie's, boyfriend, came over and hung her curtains for her. When Carrie arrived with chicken soup, Samantha was reduced to tears, realizing that none of it meant anything if you didn't have a man in your life that you could depend on. This episode flashed through my head as I scrolled through countless numbers in my phone, in a desperate attempt to get a lousy 10 miles from the train station to my house.
My flight was delayed. I broke down and called "Slim." Since I didn't really know what time my flight would actually arrive in Atlanta, he said to call him when I landed and he'd "see" if he could make it. I was NOT impressed. So I called my next-door neighbor, who conveniently happens to be one of my best friends, and she said that she would come and get me. About damn time.
Well, between the 2 1/2 hours my flight was delayed, and the 1 1/2 hours we ended up sitting on the tarmac, awaiting takeoff approval, I ended up landing in Atlanta about 20 minutes before my mother did, so I just caught a ride home with her and her boyfriend.
I think it's time to take some emotional inventory, and possibly do some house-cleaning, don't you think?
My last day up there, though, it occurred to me that I didn't have a ride home. I knew I could take the train up to Doraville, and it would be fairly easy for anyone to pick me up and take me home. Mom was still in Pennsylvania, and was actually flying home the same day I was, but her flight didn't arrive until later in the evening, and her boyfriend was picking her up. I couldn't very well ask him to pick me up, just to have to turn around and pick mom up. I had a plenty of friends, and I could ask any one of them. But why? ;) I had boys galore to choose from!
"Timon" was traveling, so he was out. I called "Aladdin", but he had plans and was unable to break free. I didn't WANT to call "Basil," at all. He had sent me an email while I was there, with some non-sensical email about being freaked out. Whatever. Good riddens, buddy. "Kawena" was also unavailable, with apologies, and the conversation turned into a "not really feeling the chemistry" talk. Geez! I wasn't asking for marriage, I just needed a f--king ride! I wasn't so sure I wanted to call "Slim." I was feeling uneasy about what had happened and I wasn't so sure that was a connection I was interested in maintaining.
By the time I was sitting at the airport, waiting on my flight, I started to feel uneasy. How was it possible that, out of all these dates I'd had, not one single guy was willing to give me a stupid ride home from the train station? There was an episode of "Sex and the City" where Samantha (definitely the character I'd been identifying with as of late) had just moved into a new place, and she'd contracted the flu. She hadn't hung her curtains yet, and was too sick to do so, but couldn't rest during the day because of all the daylight pouring through her windows. She went through her little black book and called all the men she slept with to come to her aid, and not one of them came through for her. In the end, her best friend's, Carrie's, boyfriend, came over and hung her curtains for her. When Carrie arrived with chicken soup, Samantha was reduced to tears, realizing that none of it meant anything if you didn't have a man in your life that you could depend on. This episode flashed through my head as I scrolled through countless numbers in my phone, in a desperate attempt to get a lousy 10 miles from the train station to my house.
My flight was delayed. I broke down and called "Slim." Since I didn't really know what time my flight would actually arrive in Atlanta, he said to call him when I landed and he'd "see" if he could make it. I was NOT impressed. So I called my next-door neighbor, who conveniently happens to be one of my best friends, and she said that she would come and get me. About damn time.
Well, between the 2 1/2 hours my flight was delayed, and the 1 1/2 hours we ended up sitting on the tarmac, awaiting takeoff approval, I ended up landing in Atlanta about 20 minutes before my mother did, so I just caught a ride home with her and her boyfriend.
I think it's time to take some emotional inventory, and possibly do some house-cleaning, don't you think?
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Chapter 35: Off to Chicago
So, I mentioned a few entries back that "Timon" was coming into the Atlanta airport about an hour before my flight to Chicago. We planned to rendezvous at the airport to see each other for a few minutes. It had been over a week since our interlude and he had been rather diligent in contacting me in some form or fashion almost everyday. With "Timon," I seemed to have escaped the "Sex on the First Date Curse." Hell, it wasn't even a date, it was more of a spontaneous booty-call, in reality.
So "Basil" showed up to take me to the train station, as promised. As I suspected he would be, he was wound up and short on time. He was ushering me out the door and shoving me and my luggage into his truck immediately. His phone went off several times and he seemed to thrive on taking his calls and sounding all important, giving orders to his subordinates. Maybe it was an act, maybe it wasn't. Either way, I sat in the passenger seat, quietly, thinking to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?" The whole situation made me feel like a HUGE inconvenience and very uncomfortable. But I reminded myself that I had given him every opportunity to back out. After all, I had only asked for a favor, and made it clear that he could have said "no."
He dropped me off at the train station, and suddenly seemed to remember that he needed to be sweet. He kissed me, and told me that I looked pretty. Then he wished me a good time in Chicago, and I thanked him for the ride, and bade him good-bye.
"Timon" and I missed each other at the airport. His flight got in early, and I got held up at security. His ride showed up early, too, so he couldn't hang out and wait for me, and, for some reason, neither one of our cell phones were allowing calls to go through.
"Kawena" called while I was waiting at my gate, though. Surprise, surprise! I truly had not expected to hear from him again, and certainly not before I left! On the flight up, I allowed my mind to engage OFF of AutoPilot and contemplate my current situation. This was getting out of hand. I needed to make a list of them all! Let's see:
Aladdin: Can't forget about him. He would be back in town soon.
Timon: Who was being attentive and charming
Basil: A bit high strung, but certainly still in the picture
Kawena: A surprising phone call that might put him back in the contest
Slim: Not really sure where he fell into things yet
Maybe a weekend away would do me some good. I think I needed to put some distance between myself, Atlanta, and all the boys!
So "Basil" showed up to take me to the train station, as promised. As I suspected he would be, he was wound up and short on time. He was ushering me out the door and shoving me and my luggage into his truck immediately. His phone went off several times and he seemed to thrive on taking his calls and sounding all important, giving orders to his subordinates. Maybe it was an act, maybe it wasn't. Either way, I sat in the passenger seat, quietly, thinking to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?" The whole situation made me feel like a HUGE inconvenience and very uncomfortable. But I reminded myself that I had given him every opportunity to back out. After all, I had only asked for a favor, and made it clear that he could have said "no."
He dropped me off at the train station, and suddenly seemed to remember that he needed to be sweet. He kissed me, and told me that I looked pretty. Then he wished me a good time in Chicago, and I thanked him for the ride, and bade him good-bye.
"Timon" and I missed each other at the airport. His flight got in early, and I got held up at security. His ride showed up early, too, so he couldn't hang out and wait for me, and, for some reason, neither one of our cell phones were allowing calls to go through.
"Kawena" called while I was waiting at my gate, though. Surprise, surprise! I truly had not expected to hear from him again, and certainly not before I left! On the flight up, I allowed my mind to engage OFF of AutoPilot and contemplate my current situation. This was getting out of hand. I needed to make a list of them all! Let's see:
Aladdin: Can't forget about him. He would be back in town soon.
Timon: Who was being attentive and charming
Basil: A bit high strung, but certainly still in the picture
Kawena: A surprising phone call that might put him back in the contest
Slim: Not really sure where he fell into things yet
Maybe a weekend away would do me some good. I think I needed to put some distance between myself, Atlanta, and all the boys!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Chapter 34: Running on Autopilot
Is exactly what I was doing - "Basil" called me the next day at work, which was a surprise, but I took advantage of it. I needed a ride to the train station that would take me to the airport the next day, and I asked him if he'd be available. He said he could, but then his true colors came out. He started stressing and obsessing how he was going to do it. I told him over and over that if it was a problem I would find another ride or call a taxi. He insisted that he'd be able to give me the ride, but the stress in his voice was obvious. I regretted asking him, but now I couldn't back out. No matter how much I tried to explain that it was okay for him to say "no," he seemed to thrive off of having to "deal" with this unexpected responsibility. Whatever. I gave him the opportunity to back out. If he wasn't smart enough to take it, I was going to accept the ride.
"Slim" and I exchanged several emails throughout the day about our rendezvous that night. "Slim" lived way too far away, and I'd told him that when he first contacted me. But he insisted that he would come out my way, with no questions asked. What was it about these men that they would drive 40 minutes or more to meet me? I certainly wouldn't.
He came to a bar that was close to my house. When he pulled up, he was even cuter in person than his picture. I say cute because he was a bit younger, and he looked it. He had that little boy shyness about him that was irresistible. And, much to my pleasure, was all of the 6'-5" he'd promised. It was after dinnertime, so we had agreed on drinks only. He offered dessert, though, on which I passed, but he ended up ordering a slice of pie for himself, and then a second slice, which he fed me bites of. It was a cheesy move, but it worked. I took the first move and leaned over the booth to kiss him. After that, I stayed on Autopilot and let him lead.
When we walked out to the parking lot to say "Good night," we kept kissing. He asked to come home with me. Autopilot: Don't think, just do. The Punchline? I glamorized that someone who was a few years younger would be hot and exciting? In reality, I forgot about the fact that inexperience leads to premature finishing. And he wasn't a "spring back to life" kind of guy, either. During the after-talk phase, I learned that he was a late bloomer and had had little to no spontaneous experience like we'd just had. Great, this explains a lot. He may have been chronologically 29, but sexually, he was about 21, if that. At least it was legal. :-\
"Slim" and I exchanged several emails throughout the day about our rendezvous that night. "Slim" lived way too far away, and I'd told him that when he first contacted me. But he insisted that he would come out my way, with no questions asked. What was it about these men that they would drive 40 minutes or more to meet me? I certainly wouldn't.
He came to a bar that was close to my house. When he pulled up, he was even cuter in person than his picture. I say cute because he was a bit younger, and he looked it. He had that little boy shyness about him that was irresistible. And, much to my pleasure, was all of the 6'-5" he'd promised. It was after dinnertime, so we had agreed on drinks only. He offered dessert, though, on which I passed, but he ended up ordering a slice of pie for himself, and then a second slice, which he fed me bites of. It was a cheesy move, but it worked. I took the first move and leaned over the booth to kiss him. After that, I stayed on Autopilot and let him lead.
When we walked out to the parking lot to say "Good night," we kept kissing. He asked to come home with me. Autopilot: Don't think, just do. The Punchline? I glamorized that someone who was a few years younger would be hot and exciting? In reality, I forgot about the fact that inexperience leads to premature finishing. And he wasn't a "spring back to life" kind of guy, either. During the after-talk phase, I learned that he was a late bloomer and had had little to no spontaneous experience like we'd just had. Great, this explains a lot. He may have been chronologically 29, but sexually, he was about 21, if that. At least it was legal. :-\
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