For the last week or so I have been chatting with a guy that I met very briefly through a friend of a friend. The one time that we met, it was late, we were both a little intoxicated, and didn't really get a chance to talk for very long. And I was probably running off to some late night dalliance or another with an inappropriately aged boy, so I'm sure I had one foot out the door, at least mentally, while conversing with Mr Appropriately Aged Possible Next Love Interest.
He got my digits and we've been talking pretty much every single day since we met, making plans to get together last night for a drink. Based on the fact that he is a total looker, and we seemed to have a lot in common, and he was quite the enthusiastic one about getting together with me and the fact that I have curves "in all the right places",I thought for sure that this one was in the bag, so to speak. Whatever that even means..I mean, I'm nowhere near being interested in dating someone in a serious manner, but it would be nice to try to engage some sort of romantic coup, even if just for fun, with someone my own age. For once.
Well. I got a call right before I was about to leave the office-he asked if I minded going to dinner instead of drinks, as he was starving. He offered to make reservations at a Cuban place in the W. Village and, although I had no interest in dinner, I agreed to meet him there. He mentioned that it was nice and quiet, and since I was nursing some laryngitis it would be nice for me to not have to scream.
I managed to get there unfashionably early, to make things nice and awkward for myself, and found myself sitting at a table, right next to the UNBELIEVABLY LOUD LIVE BAND that was playing during dinner. So much for not having to scream! To top it all off, my lovely date was late by about 15 minutes. So there I sat, alone, next to the live music, cursing the day I was born and wishing I could just blink and find myself home.
He finally appeared, and he seemed sort of disheveled. Without barely a glance my way, he grabbed a menu and proceeded to order everything on the menu. Where was the enthusiasm from the previous week? How is he not noticing my fabulous cleavage, the fuck me boots, the short skirt, the flowing blonde hair he seemed to gush about upon first meeting? Did I get fugly in just a week? WTF?
The conversation was blah, at best, and at one point it seemed as if he was going to pass out at the table. When he ordered two desserts after dinner, I raised my eyebrows...and that's when he said "Yea, my boss gave me the munchies on my way over here. I'll blame this on him."
Gave him the munchies?
"Yea, we smoked a big fattie before I got on the train, and I'm stoned out of my mind."
Got it. Now it all makes sense. I didn't get fugly. He got STUPID!
I had to laugh, I mean, what else could I do? Here I am, trying to be more mature and date more "mature" people, and this is what I get? He makes my 20-something yr old crush look like a 90 year old grandpa, for fucks sake!
For some insane reason, I thought perhaps a change of scenery would somehow transform this date from blah to YEA, so I asked him if he wanted to go for a drink after dinner, my treat. I guess he could have said no, but maybe he, too, was hoping that moving on to another location would somehow create more of a spark between us, or at least sober him up, or something.
Alas, that was not the case, and one drink later, he was yawning, and I was rolling my eyes and counting the minutes til I got to go home and watch paint dry or do something a little more exciting than sit and stare at this moron's stoned, listless face.
Barely a hug was exchanged when we got to our respective trains. I expect we will not be going out again, although, stranger things have happened.
Once I got home, I signed onto gchat and lo and behold, the married-with-two-kids high school ex-BF greeted me in his usual enthusiastic way, and we spent the next two hours chatting up a storm. He likes to hear my dating gossip, I suspect to live vicariously through me, since he's been married since the beginning of time...we've been cautious to not talk about the past, or reminisce or go down any of those forbidden roads. But last night, he went there.
"I was absolutely CRAZY about you."
I don't know why, but I saw those words written on my screen and, sitting cross legged on my couch, laptop askew on my lap, I screamed. Remember in Sixteen Candles when Molly Ringwald finds out that the Geek showed her underwear to all his friends? The scream was like that.
Thus opened a whole Pandora's box that really should have stayed locked, bound and thrown to the bottom of the ocean. But I guess, 2 years or 20 years can go by, and people still feel what they're gonna feel.
It's a sad state of affairs when your fantasy late-night cyber dates with your ex are way more satisfying than the real life men that I seem to be encountering of late.
But it's my parallel universe, and I'll live it how I want to :)