In case any of you are wondering, my titles mostly come from songs. Sometimes it’s just a song that I’m into at the time, sometimes it actually means something. If you want to know the songs, I’ll be happy to share with you. Now, on to my life.
I started talking to someone on Yahoo Personals a few weeks ago and I sort of kept pushing the first date with him. Let’s call him the HornyHungarian. It ends up that we were supposed to do something over the weekend, and well, I was holding out for door number 2. After I had my fantastic evening on Sunday, I didn’t know what to do about the other date I had lined up. It just didn’t seem like something I wanted to do anymore and I’m bad at multi-tasking. But HornyHungarian left me a real asshole message (“Velvet, I guess you are mad at me because you keep canceling our dates and now you aren’t calling me back….”) I wanted to save my reputation, because you know what? In my world land development, you can never repair damage to your name. Your name and reputation are worth more than anything else you have. (That’s from my dad, I can’t take credit for that.)
So we meet at Starbucks in Dupont Circle. And Sara has expressed her interest in this man. With my mind on “other things”, I figured I would go out with him and try to set the two of them up. Unfortunately he said that wasn’t a good idea and probably thought I was kidding anyway and Sara said something to the effect of “Sloppy Seconds.” Throughout our Starbucks iced teas, he said that I really was the “bigger person” for sending him an email and saying that I was wrong for canceling so many times. In the distance, I can hear the ding ding ding of the slot machine jackpot, for, being the BIGGER PERSON is my God Damned New Year’s Resolution from 2004. We can all thank my family for that. They test my will and push the envelope daily, making me work for that resolution. Does anyone remember when they went to London and Paris without me??? I’m not bitter, really.
Now, the HornyHungarian and I eat at Cosi and the whole thing feels very contrived and fake. I tell him some of my funny dating experiences – namely the one with RestonDork (eau, story to come) and he tells me about his (he cried on his last date when they watched “Finding Neverland.”) Then he walks me back to my apartment. Shit, I need to insert the RestonDork story here because this next part won’t make sense. Ok. Damn. Here comes a digression. I’ll make it short.
Met RestonDork last spring online. We go out. He’s a moron. And he asks if I told anyone I was out with him that night. (Hello? Serial Killer???) So I was like, “Oh yes, tons of people. In fact, BestGuyFriend-M may stop by…” And he says, “What did he say when you told him we were going out?” And I said, “Well, he said what he always says, ‘Don’t have sex with him.'” So RestonDork and I are leaving the restaurant and he walks me back to my apartment and upstairs (ick) and he walks in, stands in my foyer and declares, “So…any chance you would not listen to that advice your friend gave you?” And I said, “No, he’s always right.” And RestonDork says, “BYE.” He leaves. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. There’s more to that story to prove what a dork he was, i.e. just went on vacation with his ex-girlfriend two weeks prior, gave his kids back to his mentally unstable ex-wife so he could live happily with the aforementioned girlfriend and HER kids…WTF??? but these stories are irrelevant. We all know I wouldn’t be writing this if most men didn’t provide me with such great material.
Back to the HornyHungarian. He says, “Are you going to invite me up?” I said “No. You just asked me about that date and you totally said I was wrong for inviting him up to my apartment.” So we have this awkward goodbye which my neighbor witnessed (thanks for saving me you bitch) and he left. And I felt guilty the whole time I was out with him. Well, perhaps not guilty, but, like I was just in the wrong place. Do you ever look at someone when you are on a subway who is on another subway, and you are going one direction and they are going the other and you think, “Am I supposed to be over there?” It’s not a literal feeling, like, “Shit, I’m on the wrong train.” It’s more of a feeling like, “This train is taking me to work, or whatever, and I wonder if that train is going to take me somewhere better or happier.” That’s just how I feel.
Then I come inside and start texting BoyFace, my fab date from the other night. Then there are phone calls with Sara and BestGuyFriend-M. Then more texting. Then a phone call with BoyFace. Then I end up over there at 1 a.m. What the hell? I wouldn’t get out of bed at 1 a.m. for a winning lottery ticket and this man can will me to get out of bed AND drive over to his house? It’s like I’m in high school again. Except this time it’s a lot more fun. Oh, and this time I’m not yet having sex. Still don’t want to say too much for fear of jinxing it, but I shall try my hardest to not fuck this up if for only one reason… BoyFace – you take my breath away.