Tuesday, April 24, 2012
This was after we spent almost three hours flirting/verbally abusing each other.
Note to all future guys who sit next to me on trains or coffee shops: the more I make fun of your tattoos, job, hometown or music taste = the more I like you. I abuse you and make you wonder if I like you and then charm your pants off by quoting Caddyshack or My Cousin Vinny. Then I pull out my Jane Austen book and really keep them guessing. You’ll be in love with me by the time I start mentioning my love for Jack Daniels.
(Side note: BUT will you call/text me is the cliffhanger, mind boggling question.)
We talked and flirted and winked and glanced at each other and at one point I noticed the annoyingly cute photo booth picture of him and a chick on his iPhone. When we were up at ground level, hesitating around each other, I mentioned it. And he came back with that line above. Guess who walked away with my phone number?
I reassured myself with a phone call to my mother who said “Well maybe you’re the one who will steal him away.”
Yes, my mother is routing for me so much that I’m not scolded for hitting on a guy whose involved. I think if he had a ring on she would still tell me to put me hair down and go for it. Maybe even buy him a drink at the cafe cart.
I’ve been ignoring all three sirs mentioned here and they’re still contacting me on a regular basis. Can anyone tap into the male psyche for a hot second and fill me in.
What’s up with that? Can’t you just let a girl go pine elsewhere and flirt with unavailable men?
Haven’t heard from Amtrak guy of course. But do I have a cat video in my inbox from my ex? Of course! Side note: not a euphemism.
Monday, April 16, 2012
It was Saturday night and I was at a distant relative’s birthday party. I was in deep family mode all weekend and mentally felt miles away from everything and everyone.
It also helped that I was treated to stay at the same hotel as everyone else downtown. A surprise stay-cation to maximize bonding.
Sometime that night I looked at my phone. Three texts.
If you’ve been paying attention the last few years you know who they’re from.
I stared at their texts and felt a combination of disgust and anxiety. I thought for a few minutes how to answer each one. Each wanted something different from me. But not enough to excite me.
The ex suggested a movie I should watch on television,
the brit wanted to join me in my hotel room late night,
and BB wanted to know how my week was.
Three different levels of small talk I was too far away to deal with.
I couldn’t think of how to respond.
And then I realized. I didn’t want any of them.
Even if they were all somehow combined, I still didn’t want them.
What did they want with me?
Why couldn’t my ex leave me alone?
Why couldn’t the brit realize our casual bed time had turned dull?
Why didn’t BB at least attempt to make a joke?
Though the brit called me late night and my ex texted me a few more times in the weekend, I continued to ignore them. Not one reply.
Today I believe in something greater then these nothing nothing men. There’s a something out there that won’t leave me with questions.
That won't leave me with doubt. I'm not stuck with these three.
This is not my story. I will make them my past.
Alone they are like unpaid library fines. Constantly there giving me polite reminders they exist in my world somewhere but not a big enough threat to stress me out.
Then they hit all at once Saturday night and I realized it was time to wipe them all clean.
I don’t know what will happen.
I could get a new fine but today I believe that one day, and hopefully one day soon, I’ll check out something I like and will return in time...no questions asked.