Stef Woods

The Call

I found myself surprisingly comfortable with Mr. Exec. We were benefits without friendship – nothing more and nothing less. However, my comfort was replaced by nostalgia, as I wrote a post about when we first dated. A lot had changed between March and June, and I wondered:

Why were Mr. Exec, the Gentleman, and Mr. Exec, the Great Lay, mutually exclusive?

I texted Mr. Exec to let him know that I was smiling, writing about the day we played hooky together back in March.

Mr. Exec: I hope that you’re keeping things general and not writing a lot of detail.

Me: Umm…have you read my blog ;)?

Mr. Exec: You know I’m a private person, and I don’t want our time together to be blogged about.

Me: I can’t promise that. I agreed to keep out what we had discussed, but this is what I do. Can we talk about this in person?

He didn’t reply, but called me 30 minutes later. By that point, it was 12:30am, and I was exhausted.

Me: I definitely think we need to talk about this, but it’s late and I’m tired. Can we table this until we see each other next?

Mr. Exec [without answering my question]: I support what you’re doing, but I need to know what you’ve written about me.

Me: So…you haven’t read any of my blog?

Mr. Exec: No, I haven’t.

Me [pausing]: K. I’m known for including a lot of detail so I write about everything – from how we met to what we do on our dates. But, I’ve never used your name or talked about what you do professionally or anything like that.

Mr. Exec: Have you talked about what I look like?

Me: Yes.

Mr. Exec: What did you say?

Me: I wrote that post a month or so ago, but I think I said that you’re very attractive, tall and light-skinned.

Mr. Exec: Did you say that I have green eyes?

Me: I believe so.

Mr. Exec: Everyone’s going to know it’s me! Who else do you know in DC who is a light-skinned black man our age with green eyes?

Me: Seriously? There are a lot of guys in this city that match that description.

Mr. Exec: Not guys who are making something of themselves!

“Wow,” I thought to myself. “He is such a narcissist!” I was actually having lunch the following day with a successful, light-skinned friend who happens to have green eyes. But, apparently, Mr. Exec is the only one in the entire Metro DC area!

Me: I disagree with you on that one. But, this isn't really a conversation to have over the phone.

Mr. Exec: You can’t tell me when to talk. If I have something to say, I say it!

Me: It’s 1 in the morning. Do you really think that now is the best time for this discussion?

Mr. Exec apparently did think it was the best time for this conversation, as he spent another 30 minutes talking about no one tells him to be quiet and how he called me at 12:30am, not 1am. Those comments were interspersed with lines about how he thinks my blog is great, but that I shouldn’t blog about him.

I was drained and muted the phone. For the first time since I had met Mr. Exec last October, I shed tears over him.

Mr. Exec: Are you listening to me?

Me: Yes, I am. I just got quiet because this hurts a lot. I didn’t want to get into this over the phone, and I asked you if it was possible to have this conversation later when we’re in person, but you said, “No.”

[Pause.]

When we met, I told you about my blog and gave you the link. When we reconnected this year, you came to my Blog Party. You knew what I was doing, and you acted like you supported me! Now, you seem to have a problem when it’s about you. Very few people know we’re together so no one who doesn’t know us well is going to make the connection.

[Pause.]

Plus, this is more than a hobby. This is turning into a business for me! You knew that! I would never ask you to change what you’re doing professionally so I don’t take it kindly to you doing that to me!

Mr. Exec and I went back and forth for another 20 minutes or so, but it was clear that we were at an impasse. He didn’t want me blogging about him, and I didn’t know if it was worth changing my style for a great lay. When we hung up the phone, I honestly didn’t know if I would see him again.

Keepin’ It Wrapped

In an earlier post, I wrote about how to broach condom use without ruining the mood. Now, let’s get to the nuts and bolts (pun intended) of shopping for condoms!

What should you consider when buying condoms?

A latex rubber condom provides protection against pregnancy, HIV/AIDS and STDs. Choose latex, unless you have a rubber allergy. A lubricated condom is often preferable to heighten the experience. If you pick an unlubricated condom for a tighter fit and need to add your own lubricant over the condom, steer clear of oil-based liquids since oil weakens the effectiveness of condoms.

For those of you with latex allergies, there are polyurethane and animal skin condoms. (No, lambskin condoms are not actually made with animal skin.) Those types of condoms are thinner and allow for more warmth and sensation than latex condoms, but they do NOT prevent against HIV/AIDS and STDs. As a result, it’s not recommended to use these condoms unless you’re in a monogamous relationship.

What condoms should you purchase?

If you’re making your first condom purchase, you might care to try a Variety Pack from Trojan to sample several different types. For those of you who are able to visit Lotus Blooms or order condoms online, it’s worth picking up one of the store's bestsellers: RFSU and One.

RFSU condoms are made by the Swedish Association for Sexuality Education and are found throughout Europe. RFSU is about more than just condoms, though, as the organization focuses on sex information, advocacy and education on an international scale. RFSU’s condoms are made of soft and silky, yet durable, latex with silicone lubricant. The condoms come in a rectangular package that’s about half the size of a traditional square condom.

Next, we broke out the Classic Select condom from One. One products are manufactured by Global Protection Corporation, a company committed to outreach and making condom use socially accepted. One condoms combine high-quality latex with innovative packaging (the wrappers are round, not square). In addition, a portion of all of the company’s condom sales goes to HIV prevention and treatment in Africa.

The Classic Select condom provided a fit that was rather snug for my man. Average-sized cocks should find the tight fit beneficial, but if you’re larger than average, choose One’s The Legend or Pleasure Dome brands. (The former is larger in all regards, while the latter is larger around the top of the shaft.)

Despite the snug fit, the Classic Select is thin. The condom is also purer and has been safely treated so it doesn’t contain any of that unpleasant latex odor. My man enjoyed the experience, even commenting that he could feel how wet and warm my pussy was while wearing the condom. I wasn’t as fond of the Classic Select, though, since I wasn’t able to orgasm without clitoral stimulation.

If it’s easier for you to purchase condoms at your local drugstore than online or at Lotus Blooms, I also recommend the Trojan Ecstasy. I received samples of the Ultra-Ribbed Ecstasy at a conference for sex educators earlier this summer. I loved the condom so much that I gave several to a friend.

What’s so great about the Ecstasy? The amazing G-Spot stimulating ridges on the outside! I have never cum so much with a condom and without clitoral stimulation than when my man has worn the Ecstasy. The latex feels sheer and smooth in a way that’s not the norm for condoms. The condom is also shaped with a rounder head (rather than the tapered tip) and tighter base. Since it’s looser on the shaft, it provides a less constricting experience for the man.

I don’t feel right ranking condoms because I would hate for a reader to refuse to use a condom because of my review of a particular brand. So, I’ll give out my Condom Superlatives instead.

Best for G-Spot Stimulation: The Trojan Ecstasy

Best for a Natural Fit: The Trojan Ecstasy

Best for Feeling Heat and Wetness: One Classic Select

Thinnest: RFSU’s Birds and Bees

Try one. Try all. Just be safe.

What's your favorite condom and why?

* Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the products free of charge in exchange for my honest reviews.

In The Third Person

She feels like she’s looking through a kaleidoscope, only no turn of the wheel ends up on a pretty picture. No flowers. No butterflies. No vistas resembling a peacock’s plume.

“We can’t give you the easier chemo,” her oncologist says as tears stream down her face.

“Why am I finding this out now? Why did you tell me you were going to do what’s kinder on my health?” she asks incredulously.

“All of that changed the moment we received your HER2 results. Your cancer is too aggressive to be treated any other way.”

“Give a girl a heads up next time so I could have had some time to prepare! [Pause.] So, I’m definitely losing my hair?” she inquires in the midst of her sobs.

Her oncologist nods. She asks for a few minutes to herself to call her ex-boyfriend from Philadelphia. She listens to his words of wisdom, realizing that there’s no reason to prolong the inevitable. Given the lab results, this is the normal protocol.

As she walks into the “Infusion Center,” one nurse comments:

You have the most beautiful hair.

“Fuck,” she replies.

The treatment itself isn’t as bad as she had expected. Thanks to the mediport, she barely feels the eight IV bags that give her fluids, chemotherapy, herceptin and antibiotics. She tells the nurses about her propensity for nausea and vomiting and is assured that the current medicines are much better than they used to be.

“Most people just get nauseous with chemo these days. You probably won’t even throw up,” her nurse informs her.

“Wow! That would be great!”

She goes home and has a light dinner before watching Love Actually with one of her friends. For a few minutes, she actually thinks to herself that this might not be that bad.

Morning brings exhaustion, which is to be expected. But then, she can’t stomach sips of water or ginger ale. Hours later, she ends up on the phone crying to the doctor’s office, while lying on the Oriental rug in the fetal position.

It feels like she’s starring in her own Lifetime movie.

Her friend brings her to the Infusion Center. Two hours of fluids and anti-nausea meds do the trick, and she heads home with a smile on her face and a little of her appetite back. Her man comes over that evening and says words so sweet that she wonders if they might actually make it through this together.

He wakes her up with warm kisses on her face, telling her that she will always be sexy to him. When she sends him on his way to work, she hopes that the worse is behind her.

But, alas, that’s not the case.

That evening requires her to go to the Emergency Room for more fluids and anti-nausea medications.

And then, the following day, she returns to the Infusion Center for more IVs. She may be new to the world of chemo, but she is a savvy enough patient to realize that three consecutive days of IV therapy after treatment are not the norm. Only at that time does the Head Nurse mention that she might need to be admitted to the hospital during treatment.

In her dehydrated haze, she forgets to ask:

This time or next time?

But, she’ll remember before she goes to get her second round of chemo in October. You can bet on that. She will do whatever she can to ensure that this Lifetime movie does not turn into a miniseries.

She reminds herself that she is one of the lucky ones.

She is blessed.

This was caught early.

She won’t lose her hair for another week or two.

The next year is just one year in a lifetime of years.

Moment-by-moment, she will get through this.

She sobs. For right at this moment, there is nothing else she feels like doing.

Tomorrow

I was up in Friendship Heights last week, when I received the call from my oncologist's office. The physician's assistant tried as kindly as she could to break the news to me:

So…the lab finally got back to us with the results. You're HER2 positive. [HER2 is one of the most aggressive forms of breast cancer.]

Me: I had a feeling.

We decided that I would have a mediport installed on Friday, September 17th. [A mediport is a device that's implanted under the skin and allows easy access to your veins.] And then, she scheduled me for my first of six chemotherapy sessions on Tuesday, September 21st.

When I hung up the phone, I leaned against the window of an empty storefront and sobbed for a few minutes. You know those cries where your whole body shakes? Yeah, it was that kind of cry.

Two people walked by me. I sensed that they wanted to stop, but didn't know what to say. I guess that I didn't know what to say either. (Well, besides the word, "fuck.")

I haven't cried that much since Friday, but I feel unsettled. I'm starting chemo tomorrow. There are days in which I love watching the clock move forward hour-by-hour. But, I'm watching the hours pass today as though I'm waiting for the bell to toll.

I don't want chemo. At all.

I don't want to worry about how my already weakened immune system will react to chemotherapy. I don't want to be more nauseous than I already am on a given week. I don't want to wonder if I'll fall within the 15% of people who lose their hair on this type of treatment.

Did I mention that I don't want it?

On the night after I got the port put in, my man came over to my place. The port surprisingly hurts a lot, and he's never seen me in this much pain. I was in so much pain that I didn't even want to orgasm or have sex. Me!

Me: You realize that this is going to get a lot worse, right?

Him: Yes, and I'll be here for you.

Me: I just feel really vulnerable now. Like I don't want cancer to be the reason why we don't work out.

Him: That's not going to happen.

Me: If I'm bald?

Him: I'll help you find a hot wig. Some look that you've always wanted to try. You are going to look sexy no matter what!

Me [smiling as I bury my head in his chest]: Maybe…what if I lose my sex drive?

Him: That's not going to happen with you.

Me [laughing out loud]: Misty joked that if I lose my sex drive I would still have a normal person's drive.

Him: Exactly. And, if you lose your drive, then it just means that I have to work harder.

I kissed him, as I fought back tears. It must be karma or God's way of balancing my life out that in the midst of fighting cancer, my relationship with my man and my blog are better than ever!

As I think about the months that lie ahead, I can't help but feel grateful for early diagnosis and great medical care. I realize that there could have been a much different ending to this story. I also appreciate that the treatment that I will undergo in the coming months is to ensure that I'll be around for decades to come. I owe it to myself, my loved ones and the child I will adopt to be as strong as I can and do whatever possible to live a very long life.

Yesterday, I was interviewed for a breast cancer documentary. The producers asked me how breast cancer affected me and three words came to mind:

Vanity; Advocacy and Humanity.

I feel blessed to have such an outpouring of support from friends and readers. On the advocacy front, I know that I will be doing more with the issue of toxic ingredients in sex toys. I'm a sex blogger with breast cancer and a penchant for helping others. I anticipate speaking out about the use of cancer-causing phthalates in adult toys…under my real name.

But first, I need to kick this cancer thing. And, vanity requires me to do that with my own long red locks.

xoxo

Even more to the story

Mr. Exec and I had dated for a month. And then, we stopped talking to each other for a month. Now, Mr. Exec was back in my bed, referring to us a couple and telling me not to blog about our relationship. I didn't know what shocked me more!

Me: I'm sorry I can't promise not to blog about you. That's what I do.

Mr. Exec: I'm a very private person, and I need to know that what I say and do around you won't show up in your blog.

Me: I respect that you are a private person, but have you ever actually read my blog?

Mr. Exec: No.

Me: I'm a storyteller. I'm all about the details. You're asking me to change what I do right at the point when my blog might be turning into something bigger? You went to my Blog Party. You knew what I was doing!

Mr. Exec: And, I'm happy for you. But, I just don't want you writing about me.

Me: But, you want to date me and be in my bed? Writing about that stuff is what I do!

We spoke more about my blog and my readers, and then Mr. Exec asked me to leave a specific matter out of the blog.

Me: I'm fine with leaving that out.

Mr. Exec: Good. But, I don't want stuff that happens in our bed to be a topic for your blog. That's private…between us.

Me: What's with the 'our bed' talk? So, we're doing this? We're really getting back together and going to be a couple?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me [Long Pause]: Then, I might be willing to write about our bedroom activities without as much detail as I normally do. I'm not sure. I'll need to see how things with us go and how it works to change my style a bit. I'll definitely leave out what we discussed, though. I get that. And, I can also send you posts before I put them up so you can see what I wrote. Does that sound okay for now and then we can talk more about this when I get closer to blogging about our earlier dates?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

We kissed again, and it felt different. We always had passion together, but now, it felt sweeter and more solid.

He moved down the bed so that his head was between my legs and starting going down on me.

Mr. Exec [coming up for air]: Did you miss this?

Me: Definitely. You know I love when you do that, baby!

Twenty minutes and several orgasms later, it was my turn to reciprocate. In between kisses and oral, Mr. Exec said:

I hated that you said I wasn't there for you.

Me: But, you weren't.

Mr. Exec: I never want to be that guy with anyone, especially you.

Me: I know you don't. And, I know that you won't be like that again.

Mr. Exec: You made me so mad when you said that I was there for my friends, but not for you.

Me: I know I did. But, I know that's not how you are fundamentally. If I thought that was who you were, you wouldn't be in my bed right now.

Mr. Exec: I'm always there for the people I care about! Always!

Me: I know. You weren't for me that one time, and I know that it will never happen again.

Mr. Exec: It won't.

The topic changed to upcoming events, and he asked:

How are you going to be at events with all these women approaching me?

Me: Will they know that we're a couple?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me: Then, I'll be fine. As long as we're on the same page and they know that we're together, I won't freak out or need to be all up on you. I'd only get that way if they didn't know about us.

Mr. Exec: You know if I'm flirting with older women that it's just business. I'll never lie to you and I'll never let you down.

Me: Yes, baby, I know. Business is just business. And, I will always support you professionally. We both have very expensive tastes! [We laugh.] Are you going to be fine with me flirting with other guys?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me: That's good because it's not like I'm a wallflower. So…we're doing this? We're going public as a couple? You're okay letting your many fans know that we're together?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

He kissed me, and then we let the discussions about the relationship and blog go. I hadn't had sex with anyone since "Buckeyes" Boy because I wasn't ready to do so. Until now.

(Much) more to the story

As I joined Mr. Exec on the couch, we caught up about work and life. (Yes, we had seen each other a few days ago at Ceiba, but we didn’t exactly have the chance to have a heart-to-heart at the bar.)

Me: I noticed on Facebook that you had some meetings at USAID. What’s going on with them?

Mr. Exec told me about a project that he was trying to get involved in. If it worked out as he was hoping it would, he’d be doing a lot of traveling.

Me: That’s great! Where to?

Mr. Exec: Well, first I’d be heading to Hong Kong and then several countries in South America. The details are still be finalized, but if we come to an agreement, I’d like to write you into the deal for South America.

Me: What do you mean?

Mr. Exec: You. Me. South America. [He names several South American countries like he’s in a Geography class. I realize that he’s rather buzzed, but I’m intrigued and want to hear more.]

Me [laughing out loud]: Okay. What exactly would we be doing there, and why would you want me there with you?

Mr. Exec then described the work that I had done as an attorney, my ongoing commitment to the causes I care about, and what I would be able to add to this specific project. I honestly didn’t realize that he knew me and my background as well as he did. I was impressed and flattered.

Me: Thanks. That would definitely be something that I’m interested in. Would it be one long trip or four small ones?

Mr. Exec: Four small ones.

Me [pausing]: I’d have to check with my doctors, but that might be doable. Especially if the trips would be spread out. [Traveling often requires me to get IVs so it’s not something that I do often anymore for the fun of it.]

Mr. Exec: How is everything going health-wise?

Me: Things have been pretty good, but I have to see my neurosurgeon since some of that stuff is getting worse. I also found a lump.

Mr. Exec [interrupting out of concern]: In your breast?

Me: Yes. I’ve had several lumps before so it’s not a big deal, but my doctors usually take them out. If everything with my health is okay, then I’d love to get involved in the project. [This occurred back in late May, and as many of you know, it wasn’t benign.]

Mr. Exec: Well, let me know what the doctors say. I’ll be praying that everything is okay.

He seemed protective of me, and I found myself liking that.

Me: Since it’s pretty late, want to get some sleep?

Mr. Exec followed me into the bedroom. I went into the bathroom to change into a shirt and shorts. When I got into bed, my dog, Nutter, would not move from in between Mr. Exec and me. It was like she knew what had happened in the past and was holding a grudge against him.

Me: Nutter is giving you no love, huh? [We laugh.] Goodnight.

Mr. Exec: Turn around and give me a goodnight kiss. [I turn around to give him the quickest kiss possible, and roll back over on my side.] No, I want a real goodnight kiss.

I turned over and really kissed him. His kiss was as good as I remembered with just the right amount of tongue and intensity. We talked between kisses:

Mr. Exec: I missed you.

Me: That’s nice to hear.

Mr. Exec: Did you miss me?

Me: No.

Mr. Exec: I know you missed me.

Me: I didn’t.

Mr. Exec: Yes, you did. It’s okay to admit it.

Me: Well…maybe a little. [I smile.]

Mr. Exec: I know you did.

Me: You’re here, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be if I didn’t miss you at all.

I rolled over so that I was on top of him, as we continued to make out. I took off my shirt and my bra, as he said:

What happens in our bed stays in our bed. Our relationship is special and private. It is not to be shared with your readers, even though you might think that they deserve to know. They don’t.

Whoaaaaa! Our bed? Our relationship? Where did that come from? And, I wasn’t supposed to blog about it! Was he kidding? I had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.

To be continued…

A night to remember – Part II

What do you get when you mix one City Girl, one Best Boy and his best friend and a guy that I dated for a month, Mr. Exec, at the same bar? Read on…

Best Boy arrived at Ceiba, and our party expanded to four. The jokes, drinks and good conversation kept flowing. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Exec's friend, Melinda, headed off to Chinatown to meet her cousin so Best Boy took her seat.

The three of us ordered food, and when the meals came, both Mr. Exec and Best Boy shared their dishes with me. It felt like I was on a date…with both of them! But, somewhat surprisingly, it wasn't weird. It felt completely natural!

Mr. Exec was cocky and controlling, but in a way that I found sexy. (I do have a type!) Best Boy had a calm and kind presence that drew in everyone around him, including me. As I looked from one to the other, I thought to myself that if you combined these two guys, you would have the perfect man! (If only it could be that simple, right?)

As I nibbled on my fish tacos, I couldn't resist stirring the pot a little.

Me: So…have you guys ever had a threesome?

Best Boy didn't know how much of a racy side I had so he blushed and didn't say a word. Mr. Exec smiled a mischievous grin and tilted his head to give Best Boy the opportunity to respond. Best Boy looked hesitant to speak.

Me [to Best Boy]: It's not that big a deal. But, if you don't tell me, Mr. Exec will. [I giggle.]

Best Boy [after a lengthy pause]: Yes.

Me: DP [Double Penetration]? Pig roast [in which a girl is giving a blow job to one guy, while the other has sex with her doggy-style]?

Best Boy: Yes.

Me: Both?

Best Boy: Yes.

Me [smiling]: Interesting.

My friend, Autumn, was in the neighborhood so she stopped by Ceiba for a drink. The laughter, fun and pig roast references continued. I made some comment that wasn't related to anything sexual, but ended with the word, "back." Autumn responded with a smile and giggle.

Best Boy looked a bit confused since he didn't realize how easy it was for us to turn almost anything into a double entendre. Part of what made Best Boy so endearing was the fact that he seemed sweeter and shier than Mr. Exec. Best Boy was clearly the better man, but I couldn't deny the fact that Mr. Exec possessed something intangible that I found incredibly sexy. I had thought about the possibility that Mr. Exec and I could be friends, but now, I wasn't sure what I was feeling or what I wanted.

Melinda, her cousins and several friends came back to the bar. As there were now eight of us in the group, there were several different conversations going on at once. It also gave me some time to talk to each person one-on-one. Mr. Exec asked about my health, indicating that he hoped that I had been feeling better. Best Boy offered to drive me home, apologizing for the fact that I had been caught in the rain on my trip to Ceiba. And, Autumn whispered to me that she thought that both Mr. Exec and Best Boy liked me.

Me [to Autumn]: Really?!? You think so?

Autumn [nodding]: Totally.

An hour later, the other girls had left, and it was just me Best Boy and Mr. Exec again. We had one last drink before asking for the check. Best Boy and I both pulled out our credit cards, but Mr. Exec insisted on paying for the bill. It felt like a bit of a pissing contest, and it shouldn't shock anyone that Mr. Exec won. Best Boy and I thanked him, and we headed out of the restaurant.

Mr. Exec's car was right out front. He said goodbye to Best Boy first, and then I went to hug him goodbye.

Mr. Exec: May I give you a ride home?

Me: Umm…Best Boy already offered to.

Mr. Exec: Oh. He did? [Turns to face Best Boy.] You're giving her a ride home? [Best Boy nods. Awkward pause.]

Have a good night then.

Me: Thanks.

Best Boy drove me home and kissed me at the door. I kissed back for a minute, but then I stopped. He was handsome and nice, but I didn't know if I felt a spark with him.

Me: Thanks for a fun night!

Best Boy: Well, I would like to take you out to dinner just the two of us one night.

Me [smiling]: I'd like that. Will you text me to let me know that you got home okay?

Best Boy: Of course. Good night.

Best Boy turned and walked toward his car. I walked inside my building. Before I had even gotten to the elevator, I sent a text to Mr. Exec.

A night to remember

Was I being punked?

While in the cab en route to meet Best Boy at Ceiba, he called to inform me that his best friend and the guy that I had dated for a month, Mr. Exec, was at the bar…at Ceiba!

What are the odds of that? Who else does this kind of stuff happen to?

I exhaled and ran through the pros and cons to myself before telling Best Boy:

That’s not a problem for me. Is it a problem for you?

[I restrained myself from asking if Best Boy and Mr. Exec had planned this. I also held back from letting Best Boy know that I didn’t exactly care to be at a bar with the two of them. I didn’t want to sound like I had any unresolved feelings for Mr. Exec when I didn’t.]

Me: Should I still have the cab drop me off at Ceiba?

[We had vacillated between meeting at Oya or Ceiba. I figured that he would suggest we now meet at Oya instead. But, he surprisingly didn’t.]

Best Boy: Yes, if you’re fine being around Mr. Exec…

Me: Of course I am.

[What I really wanted to say: Are you fucking kidding me? This is going to be really awkward! When last Mr. Exec and I talked, I told him off for not being there for me after my concussion.]

Best Boy: Good. I’m just looking to relax and have some drinks without any drama.

Me: That works for me. And, there shouldn’t be any drama.

As I hung up the telephone, I realized that there would only be drama if I brought it to the table — or the bar, as the case might be. And, I didn’t need to do that. Mr. Exec and I were never serious. We had our problems, but I had never shed a tear over him and had said my piece. I was bound to run into Mr. Exec around DC again sooner or later since my world and this city are smaller than small. And, if Best Boy and I hit it off, I didn’t want us to have to sneak around Mr. Exec’s back. Why did this have to be a big deal then?

I walked through Ceiba’s glass doors, noticing Mr. Exec and his friend, Melinda, at the bar. I had met Melinda when Mr. Exec brought her to my Blog Party, and she’s a total sweetheart. I exhaled and felt a bit better. I reminded myself that I could do this without being affected. After heading to the bathroom to try to dry off from the effects of the downpour, I went over to the bar.

Me: Hi! Great to see you both! How are you?

Mr. Exec smiled, although his eyes conveyed a sense of surprise at seeing me. We exchanged pleasantries, and Mr. Exec moved to the chair to his left. I had expected him to let Melinda sit in the middle, but he didn’t, kindly pulling out the chair between him and Melinda for me. I thanked him and commented:

So…I guess Best Boy should be joining us soon, too.

Mr. Exec: I just talked to him and he’s on his way.

Me: I know. He asked me to meet him here for drinks.

Mr. Exec: Oh! [Pause.] He invited you here?

Me: Yeah. Just to grab a drink. Small town, huh? [We laugh with just a touch of discomfort.]

I sat down and for the next 30 minutes, Mr. Exec, Melinda and I had a really nice conversation. There wasn’t any awkwardness, and there was a lot of laughter. I was reminded of how easy it had been to talk to Mr. Exec on our first date.

As I turned my head to face Mr. Exec, I couldn’t help but be drawn in to his blue-green eyes. His personality was magnetic, but I didn’t look at him in the same way that I had when we were dating a mere six weeks ago. I looked at him in a new light now, and I wondered if it would be possible for us to be friends.

I also wondered how the evening would change when Best Boy arrived. I guess I would find that out soon enough.

To be continued…

A new chapter…maybe

Improv Boy was out of the picture, and I found my lineup in May to be rather thin. I needed to remedy that quickly! When Best Boy texted me about meeting for drinks on Friday night, I happily said yes.

"Who's Best Boy?" you might be wondering.

Umm…Best Boy is Mr. Exec's best friend. Yeah. Now, friends and family members of ex-boyfriends are typically off-limits, but I didn't really consider Mr. Exec an ex-boyfriend. I'm sensing your skepticism through my computer screen so let me build my case:

Mr. Exec and I hadn't slept together. We had only gone out a handful of times. We didn't form an emotional connection and weren't friends. And, back in early April, Mr. Exec was the guy who failed to follow through on his offer to help me out after my concussion. Given all of those things, I felt like the "Friends and Family Rule" didn't apply in this instance so I made plans to go to Happy Hour with Best Boy.

I had met Best Boy last year at the same charity event where I had met Mr. Exec. Best Boy is 6'4" and light skinned with full lips and a muscular body that's not too thick. He's definitely good-looking, but his personality is what makes him stand out in a crowd.

"Why is that?" you might be asking.

Well, Best Boy has a laid-back attitude and is friendly to everyone he meets. He smiles more than any guy I know, and if there's a problem in the room, he tries to calmly and peacefully resolve it in a way that makes those around him happy. Like Mr. Exec, he's also an entrepreneur, but he approaches his business endeavors without a sense of cockiness or entitlement. While Mr. Exec is a belligerent bull in a china shop, Best Boy favors making connections with others and rolling with things.

Best Boy is also the master of Facebook Pokes. (Yes, you read that correctly.) When most guys poke me on Facebook, I remove the notification from my homepage without responding. But, with Best Boy, his incessant poking became a fun game. Our pokes led to us emailing on Facebook, which then led to an exchange of text messages. (He was one of the guys who was texting me while I was at the baseball game with Improv Boy.)

Best Boy asked me out for drinks, and we decided to meet at the bar at Ceiba. (I love that restaurant!)

Best Boy and I originally planned to meet at 7pm. But, I asked if we could move drinks to 8pm so that I could grab a power nap. He replied that he wanted me to feel rested and relaxed so 8pm was perfect.

As I was getting ready, I was texting with my friend, Autumn. I wondered if this was a date or a get-together between friends. It felt more like a date since he asked me out on a Friday night. But, I hadn't seen Best Boy in seven months so it might just have been a Happy Hour between friends.

Me to Autumn [knowing what a control freak Mr. Exec is]: I wonder if Mr. Exec knows we're going out. Or, if he orchestrated this for Best Boy to try to talk to me? Or, if he's going to show up?

Autumn: I don't know. I doubt it, though.

Me: Yeah, that would just be unnecessary drama. I'm going to have fun whatever happens, though.

As I was heading out the door, I noticed that it was raining and grabbed a small umbrella. When I got outside, though, I realized that it was pouring! It was that type of torrential rain that sprays sideways so there was no way for me not to get drenched. I usually like to walk to Ceiba, but when I found an empty cab, I nabbed it as quickly as I could.

When I got inside the cab, I noticed just how wet I was. The bottom of my jeans was soaked, and the back of my hair was drenched so that 80% of my hair looked perfect and 20% hung wet and shapeless. I just exhaled and laughed to myself. What could I do?

My phone vibrated with a call from Best Boy as I started to drip dry. Best Boy was just leaving his office and worried that he might be late given the storm.

Me: No problem. You were the one who was cool when I asked to meet later so whenever you get there is perfect. Just drive safely. It's nasty outside.

Best Boy: I know. It looks like Armageddon. [We laugh.] So, are you at Ceiba yet?

Me: No, I'm in a cab on H.

Best Boy: So…I just got off the phone with Mr. Exec.

Me: Uh…huh.

Best Boy: I'm not sure if this matters, but he's at the bar.

Me: At Ceiba?

Best Boy: Yes.

Me: He's there…now?!?

Best Boy: Yes. Is that going to be a problem?

Was I being punked?

To be continued…

And a miss!

Improv Boy had just informed me that he didn’t want to come upstairs with me because he didn’t think we had a future together. I stood outside my building with a confused expression on my face. I kept waiting for the punch line.

Me: Did I miss something?

Improv Boy: Well, I really support your decision to adopt, but I don’t want to be a father again.

Me: Ooookay. Where is this coming from? [I had told him about my plans to adopt two weeks ago.]

Improv Boy: I’m the type of person who just has to let you know what I’m feeling.

Me: Is this a joke?

Improv Boy: No. I also don’t know that we have the best chemistry.

Me: I won’t disagree, but I was of the mindset to let things evolve naturally. [Pause.] Wait a minute, if you thought all these things, why did you rush into getting tested [for HIV/STDs]? And, why did you cancel your date with that other girl on Wednesday?

Improv Boy: Well, you know I’m a relationship guy so I like to focus on the girl that I’m dating. And, it was easy enough for me to get tested.

Me: Umm…k. You were the one who made a big deal about getting tested now, though, despite the fact that I wanted to wait to get to know each other better. If you felt this way, why didn’t you just tell me this earlier? We didn’t need to go to the game together. [Pause.] I introduced you to my friends tonight! This is embarrassing!

Improv Boy: This isn’t about them. No one needs to know anything. Oh, except you’ll blog about everything.

Me: I just wish you had told me sooner.

Improv Boy: When would you have rather I told you?

Me: Before you decided to buy tickets…when you came over for lunch today…at the game…

Improv Boy [interrupting]: You would have rather I told you at the game?

Me: Yeah, I would have. I would have just hung out with my friends then. [I neglect to mention that two other guys had texted me during the game.]

Improv Boy: You wouldn’t have liked that. That would have made it more embarrassing for you, I’m sure. Besides, I didn’t realize until we were heading home.

Me: In the cab? This makes no sense!

Improv Boy: I’m being honest with you and asking you to respect my feelings. I had hoped that you would be able to do that.

Throughout our conversation, several neighbors walked past us, saying hello and stopping so that I could pet their dogs.

Me: Can we just talk about this upstairs?

Improv Boy: I don’t feel comfortable going upstairs with you.

Me: Are you kidding me? [This came from a guy who stayed over my place after our first date.]

Improv Boy: No. I can’t fake my feelings and it wouldn’t be right.

Me: Even just to talk? Not have sex.

Improv Boy: No.

Me: So, we’re just going to keep doing this outside my building as my neighbors keep walking by?

Improv Boy: Yes. No one is paying attention.

Me: It’s definitely distracting, though. I still don’t understand how you won’t even come upstairs. I wish you had told me this at a different time.

Improv Boy: I’m asking you to respect me and what I’m saying.

Me: I respect what you’re saying. I just don’t respect when you decided to say it. It just doesn’t make sense.

Improv Boy: When would you have rather I told you?

Me: Either before we went to the game or tomorrow morning.

Improv Boy: You would have rather I told you after spending the night at your place? I don’t believe that!

Me: Yes, I would’ve. I’m like a guy in that regard. We had a plan, and I would’ve preferred if you had followed through with the plan.

Improv Boy: I’m not like that. I could never be disrespectful like that.

Me: But, you’re disrespectful enough to break up with me in front of my building as my neighbors keep walking by?

The conversation continued like that for another five minutes. The more he talked, the more confused I was. I wasn’t sad as much as I was shocked. When it was clear that nothing was to be gained from talking more, we parted ways.

That didn’t mean that the story was over, though. Whose blog did you think you were reading ;)? xoxo