12.09.09
Bliss
September 2009
I felt as though I went to the DC Twestival and walked out with an instant boyfriend. *Poof* Normally, the thought of being entrenched in couple-dom so quickly would have had me running for the hills (or at least Arlington). But, with Buckeyes Boy, everything felt easy and right! And, I was so incredibly happy!
It didn’t take us long at all to establish our morning routine. Think lazy, no obligations (since he was sending out resumes and I just had my thesis to work procrastinate on), and lots of long talks and even longer kisses. I had things that I could have (or should have) been doing, but all I wanted to do was enjoy this surreal bliss for as long as I could!
I did manage to tear myself away from the warm bed with Buckeyes Boy long enough to walk my dog, though. On my Monday morning walk, guess who I saw pulling into the garage below my complex? JAG Man! (Seriously, folks, what are the odds that I would see him the first moment that he returned to the office after his vacation in China?) We caught up for a few minutes until the driver of the car behind him started honking.
JAG Man looked as handsome as ever, and it was nice to run into him. But, in the back of my head, I kept thinking about how glad I was that JAG Man had gone out-of-town. Otherwise, I might never have met Buckeyes Boy! I was also thankful that JAG Man had showed me what I didn’t want from a relationship so that I knew what I wanted when the right thing came along!
I finished my walk and hurried back upstairs. I got back in bed with Buckeyes Boy for a couple of hours before he headed out to his family’s place in Maryland for two nights. Since he didn’t have his own car, I let him borrow mine.
You (or at least what I imagine you are thinking): You gave him your car?!? You just met him four days ago!
Me: I know. But, I trust him. It’s okay.
As it turns out, there was a side benefit to loaning him my car. Buckeyes Boy’s sister asked him if he needed a ride from the Metro, and he explained that he had met a girl and was borrowing her car. His sister was very surprised by that (since she didn’t know he was dating anyone), and they proceeded to get into a conversation about me. I was happy to hear that she knew I existed at such an early stage in our relationship. It seemed like he and I were really on the same page!
Even though Buckeyes Boy was only gone for 48 hours, my place felt empty without him. (And, yes, I know how weird and girl-y that sounds.) He called me a couple of times while he was at his Dad’s place. Imagine a lot of sappy, “I miss you…no I miss you,” banter that’s nauseating unless you are the one experiencing it!
During one call, I mentioned that I was finding it more and more difficult to wait to have sex with him. (By this point, I was waiting for the sake of waiting. I had told myself that I wouldn’t have sex again until I was in a relationship, and even after less than a week, it was clear that I was in a relationship!) He said that he didn’t want to pressure me at all, but that he was also comfortable with moving to the next stage. I let him know that I was done with the rules and the boundaries.
The following day, Buckeyes Boy and I had planned to meet in Georgetown for lunch. But, our plans got put on hold when he received a call for an informational phone interview that afternoon with the Verizon Center. From his voice, I could tell he was looking forward to the call, but there was also a slight hesitancy in his tone.
Buckeyes Boy: I wanted to pick you up, though, so you wouldn’t have to walk so much. I feel bad that I have your car so you can’t drive. I’ll come right to Georgetown when I’m off the call.
Me: Baby, don’t worry about it! I want you to stay in DC so we can be together. You take the call, and you turn that phone interview into a sit-down interview! Got it?
Buckeyes Boy: [Laughs.] Yeah, thanks! I’ll text you when I’m done and get back to DC as soon as I can.
Me: Don’t rush on my account! I’ll see you soon enough! Good luck, baby!
We expected the phone interview to take 20 minutes, but it lasted over an hour! When he arrived back at my place later that afternoon, his excitement was palpable! Neither of us could stop smiling, and since tonight would be the first night that we would be having sex, I had a feeling that our smiles would only be getting bigger and bigger!
Next Posts: More bliss — and a bit of a pickle — with Buckeyes Boy; news from JAG Man; and a review of Lush’s Flying Fox Soap! xoxo
10.08.09
The start of something good?
August 2009
Reservations were set for dinner with JAG Man on Thursday night.
“Where are we going?” I asked him enthusiastically.
“A new steakhouse in town,” he replied.
“Hmm…Bourbon?”
“Newer,” he informed me.
“BLT Steak?”
“Newer. I don’t think you’ll guess it,” he teased, knowing that I hate surprises.
After we hung up, it hit me. The new W Hotel had a Jean-Georges restaurant, the J&G Steakhouse, inside! Nice one, JAG Man! Despite his hectic schedule and aloof demeanor, he still knew how to woo a girl!
I could tell just how much I was looking forward to our date by how much thought I gave to the outfit that I would wear. I wanted to have the right blend of sexy and professional. I decided on a black pencil skirt from We One You Two and a fuchsia ruffled top from Nido.
On Thursday evening, JAG Man picked me up at my door. He was impeccably dressed in a designer suit and looked as handsome as ever. When we arrived at the W, we were seated at a romantic table by the window with a view of the Treasury Building. The dinner was very good, the service was great, and the conversation with JAG Man was even greater than great. We talked a lot about our career paths and what brought us to DC. As it turned out, we both arrived in town in 1993 for internships. I joked that I was glad that we didn’t meet back then since I was in a much different place. (That was code for “we would have had a one-night stand and never seen each other again.”)
As JAG Man and I enjoyed our steaks, I noticed a striking black man walk into the restaurant. I smiled when I realized that it was Oscar, a guy with whom I had gone to law school. Oscar and I went out on two dates in 1997, but didn’t do anything more than snuggle. He was a gentleman, and back then, I only wanted the Bad Boys.
Over the years, I would run into Oscar from time-to-time. Once in a while, we exchanged contact information, but when I e-mailed him last, he never wrote me back. I had thought of walking across the restaurant to say hello to Oscar, but I decided not to. I didn’t want to leave my date with JAG Man nor interrupt Oscar’s date.
After dinner, I stepped out to the ‘loo and ran into Balducci’s Boy in the lobby. Balducci’s Boy and I had met last year at a supermarket. He wasn’t necessarily my type (late 40s and white), but I did like the fact that he was a lobbyist with contagious energy. For a couple of months, we had tried to meet for coffee, but our schedules never meshed. I chalked it up to a blend of bad timing and lack of interest on both of our parts. Balducci’s Boy was talking to a girl so I didn’t want to mess up his game and proceeded downstairs. (It’s worth noting that had I been alone or with a friend, I would have made a point to say hello to both Oscar and Balducci’s Boy. But, I was out with JAG Man and just wanted to focus on him.)
At the end of the meal, JAG Man asked if I would like to go up on the rooftop to have a drink. The view from the top of the hotel is one of the best in the city, and the W made great use of the space. We stood by the railing, enjoying the perfect weather and view. JAG Man took my hand in his, and a few minutes later, he placed his lips on mine. After some more kisses, he suggested that we head back to my place.
On the walk back to Foggy Bottom, we heard a lot of noise coming from behind the Old Executive Office Building. I thought it might be coming from The Exchange. (The Exchange is a GWU bar that I used to frequent in 1995-96. It also was the place where GWU Boy first introduced me to Baseball Boy.) JAG Man wanted to see what was going on so we heading down G Street. Sure enough, there was a Kickball Happy Hour taking place on The Exchange’s patio. I saw a tall black man working the door, and quickly excused myself from JAG Man for a minute before exclaiming,
“Gus!!!”
Now, Gus was UConn Boy’s best friend. (UConn Boy was my first serious relationship out of college. He and I broke up when I found out that he had lied to me about his cocaine habit. To make him as mad as he had made me, I started sleeping with UConn Boy’s dealer and several of his friends, including Gus. I’m not saying that was a smart response; I’m just being honest.)
I hadn’t seen Gus in at least 10 years, although we had recently reconnected via Facebook.
“Wow! Long time no see!” he said as we hugged.
“I know! It has been too long, but luckily, DC is a small town,” I commented as we laughed.
“I was just talking about you,” he told me.
“You were? With whom?” I asked.
“UConn Boy. You know him. He’s not on Facebook, but wanted to check it out. When I told him that you were on there, he wanted to see your pictures.”
“Ahh! Cool. Tell him hello for me,” I replied. (There was a time when the mere mention of UConn Boy’s name would have sent me into a tizzy. But, thankfully, that was a long time ago.)
Gus and I caught up for a few minutes before I said goodbye. It was great running into him, but I was ready to head home with JAG Man. There were other things on my agenda for that night!
To be continued…
09.07.09
Silly string might not be that funny
This is a Post Script to my entry about Creepy Apology Man. Since quite a few friends and readers were kind enough to give me advice on how to deal with this guy, I thought I would write an update.
On Friday night, I walked my dog with Mary and her dog. We took our usual route and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Then, when I went out for my morning walk with my dog on Saturday – less than nine hours later – I saw something on the grassy area near my building:
A huge heart drawn with silly string.
It’s a heart…a silly string heart. Anyone could have drawn it, right? A young couple in love. Drunken college students. Tourists. Anyone. But, the timing of the heart was odd. This is not a grassy area that has litter on it, let alone silly string graffiti.
I texted one of my friends about it, saying that I really hope it wasn’t for me and was just a coincidence.
Her response: Knowing your world, I wouldn’t put anything past it.
My world is small…and amusing. But, this isn’t amusing.
Another friend is also concerned about the fact that the last words Creepy Apology Man said to me on Friday were:
I’m always the one who has to pick up the pieces.
That statement seems to disprove the notion that this was all a misunderstanding and that he was really trying to apologize to someone else. It’s also an odd thing to say if he was just using “The Apology Move” as a way to approach me to ask me out on a date.
Based on the “picking up the pieces” comment, my friend and I wonder if Creepy Apology Man has some form of mental illness. My friend also asked whether CAM could work in the same office building as the new guy I’m dating, JAG Man.
Fuck. I had accepted that CAM knew that I walked my dog with Mary some mornings, but I don’t like the idea that he’s been watching me in the evenings, too. Or, that he might have seen me on a date.
JAG Man is overseas on business so I won’t be talking to him until next week. I guess I could e-mail him, but I don’t want to make too big a deal out of this.
If I see Creepy Apology Man again, I’m going to say the following to him,
“I don’t know you and I don’t know what you’re apologizing for. I would appreciate if you didn’t approach me again since you are making me uncomfortable.”
Then, I’m going to watch to see which building on my block is his office building. If he contacts me after that point, I will call the police and report him.
I hope that I don’t run into him again and that this is the end of the story. I’m thankful to my friends for their advice and support. You guys are amazing!!!
Oh, in case you are wondering, I’m not going to lose sleep over Creepy Apology Man. If I see him again, I will be polite, yet firm, and give him the chance to prove that he is just creepy in the socially awkward way. Yes, this City Girl is calm, alert and confident. In other words, don’t fuck with me. Please ;).
xoxo
Next Posts: My experiences with threesomes.
08.28.09
More bumps off of my lady lumps
June 2005
I was just starting to fall asleep when I was awakened by The Crummer’s call.
The Crummer: Hey! Were you sleeping?
Me: I had just started to. What’s up?
The Crummer: I just got to town. Meeting with my partners at Chloe in Adams Morgan. Come over!
Me: I don’t know…maybe. Is Joe going to be there? [Joe was one of Baseball Boy’s best friends and one of The Crummer’s business partners. The procedure was only eight days ago so I didn’t want to face a barrage of questions about the pregnancy or our breakup at a club.]
The Crummer: No, he’s not. Just come. I want to see you. I’ll tell the bouncer to let you skip the queue.
Me: K. See you in 30 or so.
I arrived at Chloe. It wasn’t bad, but I just wasn’t a club girl anymore. It also didn’t help that: 1) The Crummer didn’t give the bouncer a heads up so I had to play the dumb chick card to skip the queue and the cover; and 2) The Crummer and his partners were in a back room for over an hour, discussing business over vials of cocaine. Allegedly.
DC is small so I knew some of the people in the club, and the music was good. But, my days of dancing on the platform were behind me. I also lost whatever tolerance I had for being around guys doing coke. (If you want to do that kind of stuff, that’s your choice. I just would rather be elsewhere at the time.) By 2:30am, I was tired and wanted to go home.
That was not in the cards, though. The Crummer said that he wanted to go see a friend, John, to get some more blow. Great! [Insert eye roll.]
We arrived at John’s house, and our friend, Justin, also happened to be there. [Justin has known The Crummer since they were riding their Little Tikes. Justin is also friends with Lawyer Boy. Back when Lawyer Boy and I were dating, I found out from Justin’s ex-girlfriend that Lawyer Boy had a girlfriend. Yes, my world is crazy small! Oh, and, Justin and I had recently gotten in this habit of making out at parties when we were single and bored.]
I said hello to John and walked over to Justin. He started making out with me. Since he’s a great kisser, I was happy to oblige. I heard The Crummer in the background asking, “What is up with that?”
“Just saying hello,” I replied. Hehe.
The Crummer asked to borrow some porn from John, and he and I started watching a very hot DVD. That kept me entertained enough to deal with how messed up everyone in the room was getting. At 5am, we headed out. (I was cursing the fact that I was running a legal clinic in a few hours. Even though I don’t imbibe, I still need my beauty sleep.)
The Crummer and I went back to my place, and did much of the same things that we did last time. He took bumps off of my naked body (allegedly), and we kissed each other a little bit. Then, he went in the other room to enjoy his high. When the sun rose, he came back to bed.
Unlike last time, we talked about having sex with each other. I didn’t want to get into why I had to wait another week to have sex, but I did let him know that I was very attracted to him and that I would be visiting NYC next weekend.
Me: Maybe we could spend some time together when I’m up in the City and see what happens?
The Crummer: Sure. That would be great!
In the morning, I got ready for work and gave him a little kiss goodbye. I told him that he could stay as long as he liked (I’m way too trustworthy sometimes), and he mentioned grabbing lunch after I was done.
Me: I’ll call you as I’m leaving the clinic.
Four hours later, I checked in with him. He was still at my place and wanted to get some food. I told him that I was on my way home, and he agreed to wait for me.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into my place and it was very quiet. I called for The Crummer, but he was nowhere to be found. My bed was made (plus), but he was gone (minus).
I called him.
Me: Where are you?
The Crummer: Oh! I decided to head home.
Me: What? You said you would stay at my place and we would go out to lunch! I would have made plans with my friends if I had known you wouldn’t be here. Not cool, Crummer!
The Crummer: I’m sorry. I’m really beat, but I’ll make it up to you when you come to the City.
Me: Fine.
I hung up the phone, took off my suit and got into bed. I didn’t care enough about The Crummer to be mad, and I was beyond tired.
Next Posts: Thoughts on threesomes, how I meet so many guys, and my trip to NYC.
PS Thanks to Erika for giving me the idea for the title of this post! She used this line in a comment to one of my earlier posts about The Crummer. xoxo
08.10.09
Send me some (more) titties
I have already started writing the post about why Baseball Boy and I broke up and had two more blanks to fill in to get us from the end of April to the end of May of 2005. I can’t remember the last time that I cried over Baseball Boy, but writing the first page of that post brought a lot of emotions back to me.
The topic of the post is so heavy that a few friends have questioned whether I should even blog about it. But, if I’m being open and telling the full story, I can’t skip over the tough parts. My break-up with Baseball Boy also clarifies why I kept trying to reconnect with him, and provides an explanation as to why I got back with Lawyer Boy and how I ended up where I am now.
But, something that happened yesterday changed my blogging plans. Remember the post in which I describe my bizarre pseudo-friendship with Baseball Boy and how he sent me an e-mail last year, asking me to “send him some titties?” (That expression referred to naked photos that I had taken of myself for his birthday present in 2007.) As requested, I sent Baseball Boy the pictures and have yet to delete them from my phone. (Oh, in case you’re wondering, the photos are just of my tits and pussy. There’s no way anyone can tell that those are my titties or pussy. I’m a naughty exhibitionist, not an idiot.)
So, as further evidence that my world is beyond odd, I received a similar text request yesterday for the photos…
From Baseball Boy’s brother, Fine Bro!
For some back-story, Fine Bro and I are friends. I worried that our friendship would be affected by the fact that Baseball Boy no longer talks to me, but that hasn’t happened. Over the past couple of years, I’ve referred several business clients Fine Bro’s way. He also happens to be gorgeous with a great sense of humor and energy. (Fine Bro is the positive yang to Baseball Boy’s brooding yin.)
Fine Bro and I have kept things platonic…thus far. But, he had seen my racy photos twice before. Baseball Boy showed him my first round of pics in 2004, but didn’t tell him who was the woman behind the titties. And, when Fine Bro and I went out for drinks a few months ago, I showed him the most recent shots off of my phone.
Fine Bro and I were texting about a business contact yesterday, when he wrote that he “needed some hot City Girl pictures.” I wasn’t sure if he meant naked or just candid photos so I asked him.
“Yes nekit,” he replied.
I thought to myself, “Is this normal?” But then, I answered my own question:
My life isn’t normal. I’m not normal. The average 36-year-old chick doesn’t have naked pictures of herself on her cell phone. And, my life is so unique. (Yes, I just used a modifier in front of unique, but I think the situation warrants one.) Fine Bro just hit me up for naked pictures of me at a time when I’m writing the post about how his brother, The Ex, broke my heart and shattered it into a million little pieces.
My world is ironic and small. I doubt further evidence is needed to support that claim, but I’ll throw it in anyway as a teaser for a future post:
Last week, I went out on a date. In less than four hours, I ran into one guy I slept with, one guy I had gone out on two dates with, and another guy with whom I exchanged numbers. Seriously.
I could try to understand my world, but isn’t that futile? I can only try to understand myself.
I scrolled through my phone and forwarded the pictures to Fine Bro. Whatever does or doesn’t happen in the future with Fine Bro, this I know for sure: titties are for sharing!
PS When I say, “titties are for sharing,” I mean with my friends. I don’t care to e-mail pics to a total stranger or post naked photos of myself on the blog for everyone to see. Hope you can appreciate that :).
07.24.09
An interesting March — Part II
2005
What were the odds that The Crummer’s new business partner, Joe, would also happen to be one of Baseball Boy’s best friends? I had ended up at Panache with The Crummer by chance and assumed that we would be hooking up in the very near future. Now, after seeing Joe, I just felt confused.
Running into Joe while on a pseudo-date with The Crummer at Panache was almost — but not quite — as bad as having Baseball Boy there himself. I had spent a fair amount of time with Joe, and he was very loyal to Baseball Boy. Joe was with us on our second date, New Year’s Eve 2003, and quite a few other nights in Reston. On two occasions, Joe had even served as an emissary, calling me to join him and Baseball Boy at a bar with the understanding that I should bring clothes to sleep over Baseball Boy’s place afterward. (In retrospect, that seems really odd, but it worked at the time.)
For those of you who regularly read my posts and are familiar with Baseball Boy, you might be wondering, “Why would Baseball Boy care? He and City Girl weren’t monogamous. And, she had wanted to be his girlfriend, and he said that he couldn’t handle a real relationship given his work commitments at that time. Did he have the right to even be jealous or upset?”
Those would all be very valid points. I was willing to give my heart and my ass to Baseball Boy exclusively, and he turned that down. Nonetheless, Baseball Boy had an odd possessive streak. He wasn’t aggressively jealous. But, he openly admitted that although he couldn’t step up in the relationship department, he didn’t want me to be with anyone else either.
Baseball Boy’s feelings obviously didn’t change my actions much (paging Lawyer Boy), but they made me realize that he did care about me in his own way. When I talk about the pull that Baseball Boy had over me, his jealous side contributed to that. He wouldn’t want me all to himself if he didn’t have strong feelings for me, right? (Whether that was true or not, I kept telling myself that.)
So, Baseball Boy and I operated under a policy that resembled “Don’t Ask. Don’t Tell.” Whatever happened when we weren’t together just happened. We didn’t discuss it with the other person or make an issue about it. There was that New Year’s Eve when I had some afternoon delight with Married Matt, and then saw Baseball Boy after the ball dropped. But, I wasn’t stupid enough to mention that to Baseball Boy and kept it in the vault. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell.
Given that background, seeing Joe while on a pseudo-date with The Crummer complicated my situation with Baseball Boy. I knew that Joe would tell Baseball Boy (and that Baseball Boy would be mad) so I preemptively sent Baseball Boy a text. I kept it light, focusing on what a small world it was. I just said that I was out with my friend’s cousin, grabbing a drink, which wasn’t a lie. Baseball Boy and I texted for about an hour or so, and he seemed okay with everything. Whew!
The group left Panache and headed to Eye Bar. The moment that we walked inside, The Crummer and I started dancing. When we stopped to grab a drink, I looked over at the reserved table in a corner. (The table was cordoned off by a red velvet rope, which always amuses me. DC is not LA or NYC, and it never will be. The velvet rope approach is so unnecessary in a city where navy blue blazers constitute fashion and status is determined by who you know on The Hill.)
Anyway, I noticed a petite guy drinking in the corner and laughed out loud. Who was sitting at the table with a drink in his hand? The Diminutive Russian…the guy I moved to DC for. Seriously?!? Who else was going to come out of the woodwork tonight? How small is this city?
I went over to say hello to The Diminutive Russian. After a few minutes of catching up, he asked if I wanted to sit down. I politely declined, and pointed out that I was at the bar with a date. The Diminutive Russian made some comment about the fact that I was hanging out with a black guy. (Ugh! I never liked his racist thoughts when we dated and I liked them even less 11 years later.)
I went back to The Crummer and Joe, but since it was nearing 2am, we didn’t last long at Eye Bar. The Crummer and I walked Joe to his car, and then hand-in-hand, headed to my car. While we were walking, my phone started ringing. I looked at the Caller ID to see that it was The Diminutive Russian. I let it go to voicemail. Over the next two hours, The Diminutive Russian called five more times. I didn’t answer and deleted his voicemails without listening to them. (I’m so glad that he doesn’t still have my phone number.)
After the second call, The Crummer said, “If you need to get that, feel free. I’m cool if you need to talk things through with your ex.”
“We stopped seeing each other — in January of 1994!!! I don’t hold any grudges toward him, but I have no desire to talk to him anymore than I did at the club.”
The Crummer and I went back to my place. Did he see me naked? Yeah. Did he do bumps of cocaine off of my tits and ass? Yeah. (Allegedly.) Did we hook up at all? No. We didn’t even make out. I slept in the bedroom, while he enjoyed the rest of the “party favors” on my balcony. Then he came to bed. It was an interesting blend of respectful and bizarre, which felt right at that time. I was definitely attracted to The Crummer, but I didn’t want to have a one-night stand with him and have it get back to Baseball Boy.
In the morning, I dropped The Crummer off at his cousin’s place before heading to Easter festivities. I’m normally a very happy girl on Easter Sunday, but I was a little worse for the wear on that particular holiday!
Would I see The Crummer again? What would Baseball Boy say about my night out? And, would I get back with Lawyer Boy now that Lent was over? I’ll get to those things in future posts, I promise.
Happy Friday :)!
07.23.09
An interesting March
Easter Weekend had arrived! Of course, the religious symbolism is what’s really important about the holiday. But, that weekend in 2005 also represented something else for me. I had almost lasted 40 days without fucking Lawyer Boy!
With Lawyer Boy out of the picture during Lent, who was left? Water Boy and Baseball Boy. Water Boy and I were in a nice, couple-y mode of basketball games, movies, dinners, sleepovers and brunches. The only thing was that I wanted there to be more of a spark between us. And, unfortunately, you can’t manufacture a spark out of thin air. It either exists or it doesn’t.
In March, I had mentioned to Water Boy that I really loved anal. He had tried it once in college — over 20 years ago. Lucky for me, he was willing to give it another go. He got points for tapping that ass, but he didn’t necessarily get points for style or form. (I subsequently realized through my experiences with him and Philly Matt that I need someone who isn’t doing anal just to please me. The act isn’t as good if the other party doesn’t love anal sex as much as I do.)
With respect to Baseball Boy, he was buried with work up in Pennsylvania so I hadn’t seen him for almost two months! We started IM-ing and talking on the phone more, but in our ambiguous state, the distance didn’t work in our favor.
On the night before Easter, I joined a few friends for drinks at Paolo’s in Reston Town Center. My friend, Krista, was there with her cousin, The Crummer. The Crummer and I had met in 2000. There was definite chemistry between the two of us, but nothing had ever happened.
The Crummer was 6’2” with warm brown eyes, a fine body and a great sense of style. His perfect light black complexion made him look like he was Married Matt’s cousin. The only difference was that Married Matt was Mr. Fiscally Responsible, whereas The Crummer got his name from owing way too much money to way too many people. The Crummer also was known for his interest in illegal narcotics. Allegedly. Some might think that I should have kept my distance from The Crummer since he was such a Bad Boy, but if you’ve read my posts, you know that I like the Bad Boys ;).
“What have you been up to?” I asked The Crummer. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Umm…I don’t live in DC anymore,” he replied.
“You don’t?” I inquired with a look of surprise on my face.
“No. I moved to New York in 2000. Where did you think I have been all this time?” The Crummer wondered aloud.
“Umm…I don’t know. That’s really funny,” I responded.
The rest of our group wanted to make it an early night because of Easter Service in the morning. The Crummer suggested that he and I go into DC to meet some of his friends at Panache. I had wanted to check out that lounge and spend more time with him so I happily agreed.
We arrived at Panache, and his friends had the back reserved table. There was so much cocaine and champagne at that table that I almost felt lame to be ordering water and diet cokes. I sat down and talked with some of the girls in the group. They were about 10 years younger than me, but very sweet. When the DJ started to play 50 Cent, I got up and started to dance with one of the girls. Did I grind up a bit on a hot Russian chick and The Crummer? Hell yeah.
I was having fun and thinking to myself that maybe there could be something there with The Crummer. He didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t partake in any of the “party favors,” and he had a different energy than most guys I had hung out with in my 30s. He was hot, a flirt and unpredictable. (Yes, I realize that the coke might have played a role in his spontaneity, but it was entertaining.) There was more of a spark than I had with Water Boy — although that didn’t take much — and unlike Baseball Boy, The Crummer was right there in front of me and lived in a place that I frequently visited. Hmm…
“Oh, my business partner is here! He just got back into town. Let’s go over and say hello,” The Crummer said as he grabbed my hand and escorted me off the dance floor.
As we walked back to the table, my eyes became as wide as saucers. That’s Joe! I know him!
“How?” you might be wondering.
The Crummer’s business partner also happened to be one of Baseball Boy’s best friends.
Fuck. Could my world get any smaller?
07.01.09
Foreign relations with Consulate Guy(s)
June 2009
True to his word, Consulate Guy A called me the day after we crossed paths while I was walking my dog. I was on the other line and let his call go to voicemail. When I returned his call an hour later, he was trying to find parking in Adams Morgan. (For those of you who aren’t locals, that is no small feat!)
“I wish that you had called sooner,” he said. “I had wanted to invite you to my colleague’s birthday happy hour.”
“Oh, sorry. But, I’m sure you’ll have fun without me,” I replied.
Deep down, though, I was thinking that was an odd choice for a first date with someone you don’t know very well. How could we hold a decent conversation at a crowded bar in Adams Morgan? And who picks a social event with people from work for a first date?
We talked for another minute and he suggested going out to dinner that week. From our original plan of coffee to a work happy hour to dinner? Upgrade! That sounded great to me so we had a date for our date.
As I was getting ready to meet Consulate Guy A, I found myself feeling a little giddy. I guess I attribute that to the fact that I haven’t gone out with many guys since Lawyer Boy. To recap:
Brooklyn Boy has become a punch line, after he called me a prude and told a joke about rape on our date. Chilean Guy is too nice and couple-y for me. Whole Foods Guy isn’t established enough for my taste. And, although CPA Guy and I have texted a few times since we went to Artomatic, he never asked me out again. (There’s playing hard to get, and there’s just not interested. I’m assuming it’s the latter, but I’ll go out with him again if he asks.)
Anyway, Consulate Guy A called me as he was leaving work and said that we would be going to a colleague’s birthday happy hour in Foggy Bottom and then heading into Georgetown afterward. Huh? How did we come back to a social event with his embassy co-workers? Downgrade. Despite my feelings, I decided to just go with the flow.
Consulate Guy A met me outside my building and made me smile when he said,
“You look ravishing as always.”
He started out on a high note, but lost a few points on the 10-minute walk to the bar. He spoke about how he doesn’t like cities very much since he was raised on a farm. That might not be a big deal for some, but it’s not for nothing that I gave myself the nickname of City Girl!
Consulate Guy A also informed me that he’s not following his doctor’s orders and going to physical therapy. (When we first met, he was recouping from foot surgery.) I realize that most guys don’t tend to be very responsible when it comes to their health, but given my background, someone like that isn’t a good match for me.
I still had a smile on my face, but I could have told you before we entered the bar’s patio that there wouldn’t be a second date. I’ve become increasingly finicky in my mid-30s and trust my intuition. My time is far too valuable not to be selective – and I hope that the guy’s time is, too!
Consulate Guy A and I arrived at the bar, and his colleagues from the embassy were at a large table on the patio. I recognized a few faces from my dog walks, but I sat back and just observed everyone for a while, only interjecting when one of them asked me a question. A few observations:
1. Throughout that first hour, two of Consulate Guy A’s co-workers kept referring to me as his girlfriend. I didn’t feel like it was my place to correct them, but I found it odd that Consulate Guy A didn’t clarify things. I’m not saying that he needed to make a big deal about the fact that this was our first date, but couldn’t he have said something? I mean, we barely knew each other;
2. I was the only “date” at the happy hour. Everyone else had just come from work sans significant others. So, imagine my surprise when after 30 minutes at the bar, Consulate Guy A started noticeably caressing my fingers with his fingers until he took my hand in his. Whoa Buddy! I wouldn’t want a guy doing that a half-hour into a first date even if his co-workers weren’t sitting next to us. I started putting two and two together and realized that Consulate Guy A wanted his friends from the embassy to think that we were a couple. I gently moved my hand away since we were clearly not on the same page; and
3. His co-workers were fun and incredibly intelligent. I really enjoyed talking with everyone and found myself saying very little to my date.
One of Consulate Guy A’s colleagues, CGB (short for Consulate Guy B), also worked part-time at the restaurant where we were for happy hour. When CGB walked down the stairs to our table, I tried not to stare too much. He’s really good looking with hair that’s a little too long in front and gorgeous hazel eyes. You know when you meet someone and instantly click with that person? That’s how it felt with CGB. He was as extroverted as Consulate Guy A was introverted. CGB was mysterious, while Consulate Guy A was too eager. Guess who I liked more? No contest – CGB!
CGB looked familiar so we started trying to figure out if we had met before. Over the next hour, we realized:
1. He obtained his LLM degree from the same DC institution where I had gone to law school;
2. He used to manage a restaurant that I frequented; and
3. My old boutique law firm represented that restaurant corporation so he had meetings with my former boss!
(Do I sound like a parrot if I say yet again that my world is incredibly small?)
So Consulate Guy A was sitting to my left, as I was thinking about how I could subtly pass his co-worker, CGB, my number. How would I navigate this one?
Tune in tomorrow…
06.30.09
Who knew dog walks could be so eventful?
Since I filled in the blanks as to how Lawyer Boy and I reconnected back in 2004, I thought that I would return to the present day for a few posts. I’m starting to notice that dating as a happily single 36-year-old woman is funny — in an amusing and good way. The next several posts are tales from the past two weeks.
It was a rather hot day in DC, as I put on an oversized t-shirt and micro-fiber capri leggings to walk my dog. My hair hadn’t been done, and the only make-up I was wearing was a touch of gloss on my lips. The issue of whether or not I looked like partial or total ass was debatable.
As I rounded the corner past my apartment building, I saw him, drinking coffee on the patio of the café. Who did I randomly run into this time? Girbaud Boy!
Now, you might recall that Girbaud Boy and I had a very steamy one-night stand in 1995 that turned into a little something more (a seven-night stand over the next several months). Over the years, our paths crossed quite regularly.
When we saw each other in 2006, he asked to see the view from my apartment. I initially didn’t realize that was code for, “I’m married with two kids now, but I’d still like to have sex with you.” Girbaud Boy is a cool guy, but I haven’t been interested in sleeping with him since 1996.
When we saw each other two weeks ago, we said hello and exchanged kisses on the cheeks. Girbaud Boy and I caught up for a while on the sidewalk about his job, his family, my dog and my thesis. I also told him about my blog and the nickname I had given him.
“What happened the day we met was too good not to write about!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “And, then the next night, I walked into Tequila Grill and ran into four exes, you and the guy I was seeing. DC is so freaking small!”
“Those were some crazy times! That first night was amazing. It was,” he paused to think of the right word, “savage.”
“Yeah, it was,” I replied.
“I’m still like that,” Girbaud Boy admitted.
“Oh, I bet,” I responded. Thankfully, I was wearing my sunglasses so he couldn’t see my eyes roll.
“So, what are you doing in this neighborhood?” he asked.
“I live here now. I moved into the complex,” I told him.
“You did? That’s great! I would love to see your apartment,” Girbaud Boy said.
“I bet you would. So, do you really want to see my place or do you just want to have sex?”
“Well…we could just see where things lead,” he suggested.
“Umm…no thanks. That’s not where I’m at anymore. You can see my place sometime or we can go to the pool one afternoon, but that’s it,” I clarified.
“I would love to go to the pool with you! Let’s go this afternoon,” Girbaud Boy pitched.
“No. It’s supposed to thunder storm later today.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter. I just want to see you in your bikini. You look really great,” he told me.
“I look like crap today, but thanks. And, you might see me in my bikini, but we are just friends…buddies,” I tried to impress upon him.
“Buddies as in F Buddies?” he asked.
“No!”
“Friends as in friends who get naked together?” Girbaud Boy inquired.
“No!!! Friends as in platonic, you are married with kids, friends! That’s it!” I replied firmly.
He gave me his card, but two weeks later, I have yet to contact him about pool time. Girbaud Boy isn’t a bad guy, but I just don’t want to be fending off his advances. I’ve been there and done that before, and once was enough.
After saying goodbye to Girbaud Boy, I headed off to finish my walk with my dog, and ran into Consulate Guy A.
“Who is he?” you might be wondering.
Well, Consulate Guy A is 6’4”, handsome and North African. He has the warmest brown eyes with the longest lashes that you’ve ever seen! He works at an embassy near my house, and in April, I saw him a lot around the neighborhood. He was always very friendly with me, stopping to chat and pet my dog for a few minutes. We hadn’t crossed paths in about a month, though, so it was a pleasant surprise to run into him.
After talking about work and graduate school for a bit, Consulate Guy A asked if it would be possible to meet for coffee later in the week. I found him to be intriguing so I said, “Sure,” and gave him my number. As we parted ways, he mentioned that he would call me tomorrow.
I finished the walk with a smile on my face and the thought that I need to start dressing better around the neighborhood. You never know who you’re going to run into, right?
PS One of my favorite bloggers, Erika, commented on my last post that she wanted to know how Darby found out about my affair with Lawyer Boy and whether they knew about my blog. Lawyer Boy and Darby don’t know about my blog, but Erika’s comment got me thinking…
My relationship with Lawyer Boy took a lot of twists and turns between 2004 and 2008. We were lovers, then broken up, then friends, then lovers, then boyfriend/girlfriend, and now nothing. My affair with Lawyer Boy has also been inextricably linked to my relationship with Baseball Boy.
So, readers, let me know if I should: 1) cut to the chase as to why and how I ended things with Lawyer Boy and how Darby found out about our affair; or 2) keep filling in the blanks chronologically. I aim to please :).
06.28.09
My dating world is too small yet again — Part II
August 2004
What are the odds that I would run into Lawyer Boy after a year when I’m out on a first date with another guy? DC is a small town, but my world is especially small. (It probably doesn’t help that I’ve dated as many guys as I have, but, hey, what can you do? Such are the casualties of being a sexually active and often single girl.)
I stared at Lawyer Boy for a few seconds. He saw me at exactly the same time that I noticed him. We smiled at each other, and he extended out his hand to help me up the last step toward him.
Lawyer Boy and I hugged and just started talking to each other like no time had passed since our last date. I then turned and saw Justin, our mutual friend, and Char, the girl who told me that Lawyer Boy was living with Darby. As I kept talking with everyone, I looked down the bar for my date, Calvin. I waved at him, smiled, and gave him the sign for “one minute.”
“I’m actually on a first date with this really nice guy. I shouldn’t keep him waiting too long, but it’s great to see you guys,” I told Lawyer Boy and Justin.
Justin joked, “The three of us should hook up one night with me in the back and Lawyer Boy in the front.” (That comment might seem offensive or out-of-left-field, but I didn’t take it that way. Justin is as much of a flirt as I am.)
We all laughed out loud, as I replied, “Well, if we were doing that, then Lawyer Boy would have to be the one in my ass. And, Justin, it might not be wise to talk about threesomes that don’t involve your girlfriend when she’s standing five feet away.”
Justin chuckled, and Lawyer Boy’s face was beet-red. I gave him this look with a little tilt in my head that said, “C’mon, who else would I want in my ass?”
“So, are you guys going to be here long?” I inquired.
“Yeah, probably,” Justin responded.
“Well, let me know if you decide to head somewhere else. I should go back and spend some more time with my date, but I hope that we can catch up more later,” I commented.
I went back to Calvin on the other side of the bar. For the next hour, I tried to feign interest in the conversation, but it didn’t work. Calvin was a good guy, but the moment that I saw Lawyer Boy, I knew that my first date with Calvin was going to be my last. It also didn’t help that Calvin was so nice since that is the kiss of death for me.
I kept looking over to see if Justin and Lawyer Boy were at the other end of the bar. Calvin didn’t notice, but I realized that I should just be honest since neither my heart nor my head were in the date anymore.
“Hey,” I said. “You seem really cool and it would be nice to grab coffee or catch a movie sometime. But, tonight, I wasn’t expecting to run into my friends and I’d like to go grab a drink with them to celebrate my friend’s birthday. (Lawyer Boy had just turned 33.) I don’t want to be rude, but would that be okay?”
“Of course! We can hang out another time. Go have fun with your friends,” he replied.
I was pretty surprised that he took that so well. Calvin won a lot of points with me with his laid-back attitude, and I wondered if we could actually be friends. (Oh, I’d like to say that this was the only time that I ditched a guy on our first date for an ex-boyfriend, but it wasn’t. I realize that I’m not always the perfect date!)
I gave Calvin a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye, and headed to the other side of the bar. I must have looked like a chicken with its head cut off because I couldn’t see Lawyer Boy, Justin or Char anywhere. Finally, I walked to the top of the Waterfront complex and called Justin. He said that they were getting burgers at Johnny Rockets and that I should come up.
I walked up to M Street and inside the restaurant (yes, I’m being kind to Johnny Rockets by even calling it that). Char and her girlfriend had gone home so it was just Lawyer Boy, Justin and two other guys. We got on the topic of graduate school since I was starting a master’s program in a week. It was fun to talk with them all, and there were a lot of laughs, as expected with that group.
I had already eaten so I just got a soda and had a few of Lawyer Boy’s fries. When the bill came, I offered to pay my share, but Lawyer Boy said, “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks. That’s sweet,” I responded, as I put my hand on his leg. Putting my hand on someone’s leg wasn’t normally a big deal. I do that with my girlfriends as a sign of affection or appreciation. But, with Lawyer Boy, the act wasn’t so casual. He flexed his quad the moment that I put my hand on his leg. I squeezed his leg to feel his muscles and made some comment about how he must still be going to the gym a lot. He was blushing by this point, and it seemed as though we were the only two people at the table. All of that transpired in less than 30 seconds, but I knew that we would have sex again. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.
We all said goodbye outside of Johnny Rockets. Justin crossed the street to head toward the parking garage, Lawyer Boy headed toward Wisconsin and his apartment, and their friends offered to walk me to my car. The night might have been over, but my intuition told me that the saga with Lawyer Boy wasn’t.
