See Sweet Virginia, The First Date, Just Desserts and To Nobu or Not to Nobu for the background on this one.
I wrote that I wanted to see a movie.
His messages were laconic, using lots of Cs and Us and kept to five words or less. He said that he had a movie-theater phobia. "nothing to worry about," he said.
Zoe and I put our overactive imaginations together and determined that he might have been molested at a movie theater as a kid.
Then he said he had some stuff to take care of. “Maybe we get together later?” he said.
“Oh, no,” Zoe said. “He was talking about going to Central Park and everything today and now 'maybe later'?" Tell him you’ve got a girly night planned. That’s not on.” I sent him a message saying I already had plans and he said to have fun.
Then he said he had some stuff to take care of. “Maybe we get together later?” he said.
“Oh, no,” Zoe said. “He was talking about going to Central Park and everything today and now 'maybe later'?" Tell him you’ve got a girly night planned. That’s not on.” I sent him a message saying I already had plans and he said to have fun.
I wasn’t feeling comfortable with any of it, so I wrote a new message to him, saying that I knew I said the day before that we should jump in the sack but, really, I said, I usually don’t take things quite this fast, so I thought maybe we could take things a bit slower.
He wrote back saying that that was fine, he was going to be very busy in a week anyway, with school and everything, so life was taking care of the slowing down for us. "Don't worry," he wrote at the end."Life is good."
On Monday, he texted me asking how I was doing.
We went back and forth once or twice and I said, “See you tonight?”
“Yup,” he said.
I arrived late that night and he winked at me from across the room. When the gathering was over, I went over to talk to some friends and I could see him trying to get to me, but chairs were in the way. He finally maneuvered toward me, gave me a hug and asked if I was going to dinner. I said I was. He said he was going outside to smoke and I’d see him when I came out.
On a sidenote, Zoe did my makeup that night. I noticed a spike in attention, including from #114, who was almost instantly at my side.
“You’re looking all sexy. Is there someone here or do you have a date?”
“Both, actually,” I said. “You might figure it out.”
“I think I already did,” he said.
We walked out together and I introduced him to #120. I could immediately feel the tension between them. They jostled to walk next to me but not look too obvious about it. When we got to the restaurant, there was a polite debate over who got to sit next to me. “No, you go ahead, no, you go ahead,” they said to each other. Finally, #114 said, “OK, I’ll go, I need the seat for my back” and jumped into the booth.
#120 and I sat across from each other and gave each other little looks but the strain between the two of them never went away. They cordially dueled, combatting each other through discussions of investments and real estate. #120 threw out references to how his parents just finished a sailing trip to the Caribbean, on their boat. #114 couldn’t beat that, but he was, after all, the one sitting next to me.
After dinner, #120 became antsy and seemed very interested in his watch. “I have to be uptown at 10:30,” he said.
It was only 9:15.
“It will only take you 15 minutes,” I said.
He stayed but so did his antsy-ness. Not too much later, he put on his coat and scarf and then said, “I just like to have my things near me.”
When we paid the bill, #120 let me go ahead of him out the door. #114 came out and asked if I was walking east. “Eventually,” I said shortly. I just needed him to go away. He walked off.
“Well, you’re the man about town,” I said to #120.
“What do you mean?”
“Going off to something else tonight.”
“Oh, yeah.”
There was no “Hey, walk me to the train?” or anything.
I walked to the corner with him and another friend and #120 gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and walked off.
I tried not to freak out, but when I got home, I said to Zoe, “I think he’s punishing me.”
What followed was a full 36 hours of me completely failing to not freak out.
On Monday, he texted me asking how I was doing.
We went back and forth once or twice and I said, “See you tonight?”
“Yup,” he said.
I arrived late that night and he winked at me from across the room. When the gathering was over, I went over to talk to some friends and I could see him trying to get to me, but chairs were in the way. He finally maneuvered toward me, gave me a hug and asked if I was going to dinner. I said I was. He said he was going outside to smoke and I’d see him when I came out.
On a sidenote, Zoe did my makeup that night. I noticed a spike in attention, including from #114, who was almost instantly at my side.
“You’re looking all sexy. Is there someone here or do you have a date?”
“Both, actually,” I said. “You might figure it out.”
“I think I already did,” he said.
We walked out together and I introduced him to #120. I could immediately feel the tension between them. They jostled to walk next to me but not look too obvious about it. When we got to the restaurant, there was a polite debate over who got to sit next to me. “No, you go ahead, no, you go ahead,” they said to each other. Finally, #114 said, “OK, I’ll go, I need the seat for my back” and jumped into the booth.
#120 and I sat across from each other and gave each other little looks but the strain between the two of them never went away. They cordially dueled, combatting each other through discussions of investments and real estate. #120 threw out references to how his parents just finished a sailing trip to the Caribbean, on their boat. #114 couldn’t beat that, but he was, after all, the one sitting next to me.
After dinner, #120 became antsy and seemed very interested in his watch. “I have to be uptown at 10:30,” he said.
It was only 9:15.
“It will only take you 15 minutes,” I said.
He stayed but so did his antsy-ness. Not too much later, he put on his coat and scarf and then said, “I just like to have my things near me.”
When we paid the bill, #120 let me go ahead of him out the door. #114 came out and asked if I was walking east. “Eventually,” I said shortly. I just needed him to go away. He walked off.
“Well, you’re the man about town,” I said to #120.
“What do you mean?”
“Going off to something else tonight.”
“Oh, yeah.”
There was no “Hey, walk me to the train?” or anything.
I walked to the corner with him and another friend and #120 gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and walked off.
I tried not to freak out, but when I got home, I said to Zoe, “I think he’s punishing me.”
What followed was a full 36 hours of me completely failing to not freak out.
Signs of Hope: I'm not sure if I've ever had two guys fighting over me before, but it was pretty sweet.
Red Flags: His attempted sudden departure from the restaurant.
Turning Point: When he walked off to the train alone, without trying to talk to me.
Diagnosis: For him: I have no idea.
For me: These are prime conditions for optimal freak-out mode.
No comments:
Post a Comment