Things with David did not pan out, as much as I had my heart riding on it. I shouldn't have bet so highly on him but it was bound to happen; the attraction was immediate and it burst so brightly. He was straight and honest with me from the start and I knew that my gamble to convince him otherwise was ill-fated. Just once I would like to be proved wrong. Just once I wish someone would change their mind about ME, not the other way around. Hmm.
I think David changed his mind about me too MANY times.
After the Great Make-out on Sunset Blvd. things felt fine. David and I were tagging each other in posts and sharing photos. He even followed me on Twitter, but then quickly retracted his follow. I thought that was weird but chalked it up to the quirks of the internet. Then I panicked. Did I talk about him too much on there? Did I freak him out? For once, I blabbed too hard on Twitter but appeared cool as a cucumber on Facebook. I'll never know. I'll never really know the reason for the collapse.
Tuesday morning comes...
Me: Were you going to catch Ted this weekend?
David: No. I think I need some time alone...
Like a bucket of cold water all over my back. My stomach instantly knotted. I knew what was coming. God, really...again?
I stayed away from him for a whole week. Maybe I came on too strong? Maybe if enough time passed, he'd get over whatever nonsense was pissing him off.
It didn't work. Things imploded.
Me: Did you want to hang out this week? Maybe catch dinner?
David: I'm sorry but I don't think we can hang out anymore [...]
Me: I figured as much...I appreciate you being so forth-coming. Thanks for not letting me wonder.
David: You are a very cool person. Please take care of yourself.
Me: You do the same.
David: :)
That stupid smiley was the twist of the knife in my gut. No, stop...don't start crying. I willed my eyes to stop watering. I don't need to mourn him. He was never mine to begin with. Stupidly, my heart had already begun to invest in him. All of my conniving and flirtation couldn't help me. And though I wanted to hate David with every fiber of my being, I knew it was partly my fault for pushing him, when he had told me clearly that was not his intention. I didn't take advantage of him that night on Sunset Blvd. I just cushioned the blow of the inevitable by taking what I thought belonged to me. I cheated and cut to the finish line. I wanted to make a guy who didn't want a relationship to be my boyfriend. I WANTED IT SOOOO BAD. I didn't consider the ramifications. I forgot that this guy had feelings. I misjudged him and thought he was like Ryan and all the rest: I thought the physicality would win him over. But David is not like that. And as confusing as his Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde behavior was, he was right to end things. I was right to thank him. Fuck, it still hurts.
The next few days were tough, I'm not going to lie. I came close to crying at least half a dozen times, but as usual, I couldn't. My body rejects the idea. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decided to lose myself in good times with my friends. I went to the movies a lot. I escaped in the alternate realities of the cinema. I remembered my days as a sophomore Film major at Berkeley. I remembered how good it was to watch a movie and laugh in the dark. I surrounded myself with positive feelings. I forgot about David. We were like fireworks on the 4th of July. Brief, pretty...but always burning out too quick. It was nice, but it was doomed to be temporary. I just never wanted to give into the terms.
I won't philosophize why I did what I did next. In fact, I think it was more of a whim, not a hard-thought decision. And who really needs to explain why you do things on a whim? I was feeling adventurous as all hell. I opened up a Match.com account (again) and actually paid for a subscription this time. If I want to date so bad and find that perfect boyfriend, why not look for cute men who want to do the same for a change? I threw myself into the pool of hopeful singles.
Uhmm, will admit...that was a scary situation for a few days there. For nearly a week, I combed through profiles and weeded out the weirdos from the not-so-weirdos. Who sounded like a jerk? Who looked like a goblin? Who had something enlightening to say? Who had good grammar and correct spelling? Okay, maybe just decent grammar and okay spelling? I filtered my preferences so that the pool of potential matches didn't feel like an ocean. I just want a nice little lake I can work from!
After a few days of initial cat-calling and badly worded e-mails I received from suitors, I settled on a handful of gentlemen who seemed worth talking to. Everyone seemed nice but nobody was impressing me. It was all so weird and awkward, with just a hint of desperation. Then finally, a strong candidate appeared.
His name is Brian. He had a finely crafted bio that hit me like a wave of coolness. He was smart, witty, well-spoken and had no time for bullshit. He likes Joy Division, bourbon and his apartment smells of rich mahogany. But on a deeper level, he claimed to be emotionally available and had a low tolerance for unoriginality. He "winked" at me on Match.com which I guess can be converted to a "like" on Facebook or a "favorite" on Twitter. I winked back. Then I e-mailed because I wanted to get his attention. And we were off to the races...
Me:
hola
Read your profile. You sir, are hilarious. And honest.
I commend you on not pulling any punches.
Here's the part where I try not to feel like an ass and say that I'd like to get to know you better. I'm new to this whole online dating thing, so forgive me if I sound sophomoric.
I commend you on not pulling any punches.
Here's the part where I try not to feel like an ass and say that I'd like to get to know you better. I'm new to this whole online dating thing, so forgive me if I sound sophomoric.
Next day I get a response much to my delight:
RE: hola
Hello there... [...] is it? Well I appreciate your kind
words. I try to keep it real and so many people on here seem so
unoriginal that it can get kinda discouraging.
So where in LA are you? I'm in Los Feliz. I moved to LA in 2000 from Mississippi and feel right at home here. Are you from LA originally?
I'm a chef and I've been cooking for about 16 years now. Tell me more about your job.
My membership ends here in a couple days so heres my number: [...] in case you wanna call/text me. Or give me yours and I'll call you. Whats your schedule like? Wanna grab a drink?
Holy cow...let's keep the party going..I've plundered his profile pics on Match. He's adorable.
RE: hola
Nice to meet you, Brian. Thanks for writing back.Very cool you're in Los Feliz. I actually work down the way from you in Silverlake at [...]. We're a scenic design company and I'm the Senior Customer Service Specialist; that's just a lot of words for quality control and customer care. We have all sorts of clients, from Lynyrd Skynyrd to small-time theater church groups, so I field a lot of calls and trouble shoot any issues.
I'm often found bumming around Los Feliz, actually I just hit up the Village Cinema and Fred's 62 on Saturday night. I am definitely LA-born and bred.
I'll save your number. Mine is [...]. My schedule's pretty predictable during the summer, I'm out of here usually by 4:30 pm and I don't work weekends. My Friday night is wide open as of now. By all means, shoot me a text or call if you want to grab that drink. Ye Rustic Inn?
He texted me the following day to confirm that Friday was great and he'd give me a call to set up a time. True to his word, Thursday night I get a call and we decide to meet at 6 pm. His voice is calm, without a hint of an accent. He sounds like a guy who knows what he wants. Eeeeek.
I was weirdly not scared of meeting a stranger for drinks. I felt....kinda excited! So Friday night came and I had spent almost no time worrying about meeting this 35 year old chef from Los Feliz. I tricked myself into not caring by distracting myself with work, vacation plans and softball. I even chatted with another prospect named Christopher who was a complete dud via text. On top of that, I met my friend Russell for drinks and Morrissey karaoke. At one time I wondered if Russell and I might make a good pair, but he was a little too dumb for my taste and I got the sense he realized that accepting my invitation was a mistake. He might just go live in my friend-zone, and that's fine if he puts me in that pen, too.
But yes, once the distractions were over, I was free to think about Brian. Good thing I didn't have time to agonize or dissect it, as I usually do. Nope, Friday night came and I was sitting in a dive bar in Los Feliz, eating french fries and drinking whiskey with Brian. I'm telling you, he's cute. My word!!! He's got this cool, young Micheal Keaton vibe about him. His eyes are quick, his wit is even quicker. The guy is funny and he doesn't laugh out loud. He makes a joke and keeps a straight face. It's a little unusual and I'm not used to it, but it works for him. I found myself learning so much about him. He tells me about growing up in the deep South, what it was like being raised Methodist and how he moved to California just to try something new. He tells me about his parents, his grandmother who passed away and how he knows Spanish because all his short order cooks are Mexicans. He tells me about his dumb roommate who can't program the DVR and how he wishes his company would go forward with plans to expand to the East Coast. He also likes Arrested Development. Possibly the cherry on the sundae. He saw how big my eyes widened when he made a "banana stand" reference. He asked if that meant we'd make out later. (Dramatic irony?)
I found myself opening up to him, too and I can't remember all that I said to him. At the beginning, he felt like a stranger. By the end of 5 hours of conversation, he felt like an old friend. I was nervous, no doubt about it. I accidentally spilled my drink all over the table and was mortified but Brian took it in stride and said I should ask for another whiskey and Coke. I was about to die from embarrassment but he rescued me with a big wad of napkins and a clever smile. As I wiped ice and whiskey from the vinyl cushions of the booth, my face flaming red with shame (obviously mad at myself for not realizing I was starting to get drunk), Brian kept steady and calm. He asked me about my family, where I was from, what movies I liked, what music I listened to. I never wanted to stop talking to him. But it was getting late. Neither one of us had realized the time. He had to work the next morning and was starting to feel sleepy. He was also a little bit tipsy, having drained three whiskey and Cokes himself. He offered to walk me back to my car.
We walked slowly to my little silver Corolla, planning on when would be the next time we'd see each other. I said I was game anytime and he raised an eyebrow at me, "So no rejection from you?" he asks. None. I shake my head. I tell him that my answer would be yes. We agreed he'd make the next offer and we'd set up a date. A real one. "I don't know if taking you out for whiskey and french fries counts as a date.." he muses as we walk side by side in the warm, summertime night air. "It's been a long time since anyone's eaten french fries with me.." he continues. I feel myself smile and say "I don't mind eating french fries with you. I'm also looking for someone to eat french fries with, I'd imagine you're the same or else you wouldn't be on a dating website." He nods. His Match subscription ended that night. I know what he's thinking. Time to make a move. The air suddenly feels electric. He gathers me in a hug, he squeezes so hard. I feel my chest crush against his chest. My arms instinctively go up around his shoulders. "Goodnight, thanks for a great time" he says. I hear him, even though my left ear is now pressed up against him. His arms are so strong. Time starts moving fast and then slow. My hands drift down and I hold onto his thumbs. My fingers are so tiny compared to his, I can wrap my whole hand around his thumbs. I summon up the courage to look up into his face. He's smiling down at me, with these huge hazel eyes. Little flecks of gold, brown and green. He has a scruffy beard and a smug smile on his lips. "Okay, yeah...I'll call you. We'll figure it out. I want to see you again" he says and then he tilts his head. He closes his eyes and bends down. YOU ONLY GET ONE OF THESE. My brain goes on auto-pilot. We kiss. And then again, and then again. I lose track. I whisper against his lips, still reeling from the softness of his facial hair, "Oh no. All those hipster kids waiting to get into the bar are watching us make out." He smiles and kisses me again. I'm still holding onto his thumbs, like I need to steady myself. Like I'm steering him into kissing me. His mouth is warm and his beard tickles. He hugs me again, so hard and I can feel the muscles of his upper arms through the thin fabric of his baby blue, button up shirt. He holds my left hand as he tells me to be careful on my way home. I tell him to do the same. I peel myself away from him and his hazel gaze. And that's it. I drive home happy. I don't celebrate. I just soak it in.
In bed, happy text messages:
In the meantime, I'm leaving my options open. I'm allowing a small trickle of suitors to seek me out. I'm also not afraid to chase down wild game. Especially if it's the 25 year old cousin of my best friend. HAHAHA!!! I spent the better part of Saturday night eye-raping Sandy's cousin Jason.
You know what I'm gonna do a lot less of on here? Whine. And complain. There's no cause for it. Life is great. Doors open and close all the time. I'm working from a crop of guys who want to date seriously. Maybe changing venues will help. We shall see. I'm all about finding out! WISH ME LUCK!!! :D
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