Date 96 Guy 9

Guy 9 lives down the street. After two years of hello’s and nods on the train he asked for my number last week I was surprised- but gave him my e-mail address instead. A week later, asked me for coffee and I hesitantly accepted. He seems fragile and inexperienced- socially awkward. He’s not an unattractive guy and I’m left to wonder what’s going on.
So when I met him for coffee two things become very clear. I have the feeling he does not get out much. And he’s really nervous.
He wears a leather jacket and matching leather cap pulled low over his wire frame glasses and he has on a tie. He won’t make eye contact and he laughs with a jolting bark at almost everything I say- it feels forced on his part and it makes me uncomfortable. I manage to pull out of him a little information- he likes to go rock climbing, he went to school to be a sommelier but it just doesn’t seem to be working out- he doesn’t like wine, and serving people makes him angry. When I politely inquire about other things I find apparently a lot of things make him angry. I’m not feeling inclined to open up so I keep asking him questions- he doesn’t seem to notice that I’m not talking about myself at all- fine.
We lapse into silence toward the end. He still hasn’t looked me in the eye and I don’t feel much like putting in the effort to make him feel comfortable any more.
I finish my coffee- he finishes his.
I thank him and leave.
I’ll probably see him on the train again soon. We’ll be back to hello’s and nods.

Late Night Thoughts

Something changed. I might be able to pin-point it to breaking up with Mr. Burly, but even before that I was having bad moments. As it turns out, I have gotten used to the company of another.
It may be that I just miss him. His dry sense of humor, his bright blue t-shirt, the sound of his voice, his smell.

Funny, it’s the smell that gets me more than anything. When we were dating I expected it. It made me smile. Now it sneaks up on me- a moment of memory hitting me simultaneously in the back of my throat and the pit of my stomach- none of the anger, or reasons why we broke up, just that ache of being without.

Tonight, it was a sweater I was putting into the laundry- the act of pulling it from the basket seemed to dislodge just the enough of his scent to throw me, make me hurt for more… when I pulled the soft fabric to my face, that scent was impossible to find again. Gone.

As I started to put the sweater into the wash it occurred to me it was probably the last thing I had that still had him on it. It made me feel even more alone.
I have moments- more frequently than I’d like to admit, when the thought of going out with someone else makes me cringe. Not because I don’t want to spend time with someone, not because I don’t enjoy spending time with a guy and getting to know him a bit- I like that part. No, it’s because in the moments when I’m alone, when I’m not in the date that I'm left to wonder what I’m doing.
So tonight I’m not out with someone, I’m just left to my thoughts and a memory of what it would smell like if someone was there.
I looked down at the washing machine, the water- almost finished pouring in, it looked full… maybe tonight it’s too full for one more sweater... maybe tonight I need the company...
We’ll see how I feel about it tomorrow.

Bring on the Queso!

When I mentioned where I was planning on going that evening my roommate literally gasped.
“Why on earth would you go down there?”
His faced wrinkled in horror because there are parts of town where locals just don’t go. There are some areas so frightening, just the mention of them strikes fear and revulsion into the heart of those who live in the city. An area the residents of San Francisco avoid with such single minded determination that most may have only stumbled there, “Once, years ago when I was trying to watch the fireworks…”
Guy 8 didn’t seem to bat an eye when I mentioned my plan- but he is from outside the city and may not have realized the horror I was about to subject him too. I’ve decided he’s very brave.
We were headed into the heart of Tourist Central.
Tourists as far as the eye can see- old ones, young ones, foreign and domestic, they all seem to show up wide eyed and cold (because they think they are in California -isn’t it always warm in California?), to see some of the historic sights- of which there are in reality only two (and I don’t think anyone pays attention to them).
So we played tourist. We went to an arcade- I got my butt handed to me in the worlds fastest game of air hockey. On the plus side I managed to hold my own on ski-ball (till the very end) and our combined ticket pile got us one temporary tattoo- a tooth gnashing dinosaur. Off to a museum of the odd filled with… well an odd mix of believe-it-or-not stories, wax figures and cheese-tastic pranks that had us both a little jumpy- ok had me a little jumpy but it was a nice excuse to hold hands again. Off to Indian food at one of my favorite spots (sports bar/curry house/Irish Pub), with a fantastic beer menu. Brave Guy 8 sat next to me rather than across the table (there is something very appealing about flirting with someone next to you while munching on Tikka Masala- I had no idea!).
And then we went for a walk.
And he kissed me.
And said he wanted to see me again.
I know, I know- after I dragged him into Tourist Central too!
Like I said, he’s very brave.
As for the temporary tattoo, I’m toying with putting it on as a tramp-stamp – I’m classy like that…