The one who was the Perfect Gentleman

I met the Perfect Gentleman on that free website, he was from the South and worked on the creative side of computer programming, to the point that he was not just your regular computer programmer guy. He was a little extra nerdy, if that was even possible.

We met at a club where his friends’ band was going to play. This was also a band he used to be in, but it seemed that he was more interested in talking to me and listening to the music (which he told me he never really liked anyway).

The Perfect Gentleman paid for the tickets and bought a round of drinks. I liked him immediately. He was cute, but had a face had a quality that can only be described as being a little squished (but it was cute). I liked his build: he wasn’t much taller than me, but was a little thick. I like them like that.

I met his friends before they went on stage, they all seemed perfectly nice, which is always a good sign. I bought another round of drinks and the Perfect Gentleman and I continued to have good, intelligent conversation about music and art and I even tried my best to understand what he does at his profession. There was chemistry, body language and grazing knees. He also had a fabulous laugh, something I personally love.

After the band was done, I suggested going to get some food since I hadn't eaten dinner. We went around the corner to a Polish restaurant and chatted more. I even broached the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, a topic he didn’t seem too excited to continue.

The Perfect Gentleman then walked me to my car, put his hands on my waist, kissed me good night (a nice quick peck on the kips), and told me that he was going to be out of town for the weekend just so I knew. I offered him a ride home, but he declined like a perfect gentleman and insisted on taking a cab home.

I couldn’t believe what a perfectly respectful first date it was. There was no pressure, I knew he liked me, I knew I liked him and he had paid for virtually everything and yet didn’t mind when I bought a round of drinks. I figured it was the Southern thing, but whatever it was, he was the Perfect Gentleman.

The weekend came and went, with no word from him. Not even an email the next day saying it was nice meeting me. By Monday evening I was starting to get antsy, so I called him and asked him out. The Perfect Gentleman seemed perfectly excited to go out again.

So the following Wednesday, exactly a week after our first date, I picked him up at the train station (after a misunderstanding of which train station he was supposed to get out at. Men: they’re not so great at following directions are they sometimes?) and took him to a good and not too expensive restaurant. We split a salad and a pizza and then went to a cool bar for some bluegrass, a game of scrabble and some drinks.

I had a great time with him. Again, the conversation was good and while we were picking out which game to play, the body chemistry was there. He laughed his hardy laugh at my jokes and I got him back on the train after midnight worried that he might miss that last one back to his house.

When I dropped him off at the train, he said he had fun and that we would talk soon. We had and awkward good bye as we turned sideways in the car to hug, I think he might have been going for a kiss but it was weird. So as he was getting out of the car, I pulled him back and laid a fat one on him. We made out for maybe a total of 30 seconds. I can’t say he was a great kisser, but he wasn’t bad either.

I drove home with a smile on my face. In recent memory I could not think of a dating experience that had gone this well. It was so normal! I do not have normal healthy dates, I just don’t.

I figured it was his turn to call and ask me out on a third date. A few days went by: nothing. A week went by: nothing. I don’t know what happened! 

I mean, the only thing I can possibly think that went wrong was that I farted while we were at the bar on our second date, was that it? Are farting girls a turn off for him? Are girls that kiss him a turn off? DAMN!! Is he that much of a Perfect Gentleman? Like Rhett Butler? I mean if Scarlett had farted, would Rhett have ceased to like her?

I just can’t get this right can I?

I decided to let it go, and not call him again. I am not a stalker. I refuse to do all the work.

I did have a moment of satisfaction when I was chatting with a friend of a friend a couple weeks later who knew the Perfect Gentleman. Turns out she had his old job and was rewriting all of his code. Turns out he wasn’t much better at his job than he was at dating.

The one who was so obnoxious

I met Mr. Obnoxious online. He was older than me by five or six years and worked as a bartender at private parties while he was studying to become a police officer.

The fact that he was Jewish was a nice added bonus and so I figured why not? He wasn’t necessarily my type, but you never know.

Mr. Obnoxious picked me up at my house in a double-breasted pinstripe suit, brimmed hat and bald head. He was wearing a tie with a matching handkerchief. He looked like a Jewish gangster. I was wearing jeans and insisted that I change into a skirt at least just to not feel out of place. He stated that the suit was new and wanted to break it in. No problem, it was certainly different and sorta classy.

We got into, what I call, his “penis car”: a stick shift two-seater sports car. I swear Mr. Obnoxious was going to give me whiplash before we got to the restaurant by the way he drove that thing. His voice was piercing, and I could tell from the first few minutes of this date that I didn’t like him much. The fact that he hadn’t really asked me any questions about myself from the get-go was an automatic turn off. He talked my ear off about the boat he was going to move into. Not that I don’t care about boats, I just don’t need to know all the details about this particular boat.

The restaurant was nothing special. Mr. Obnoxious had made reservations though which was thoughtful. It seemed he had taken some steps to make this date nice, which I did appreciate. I mean, no one has ever shown up to a first date in a double-breasted pinstripe suit before.

So far, I just had an idea that this guy was not for me. But when we got to the restaurant it became clear that I did not wish to spend much more time with Mr. Obnoxious.

He wanted to order a rye whisky. I don’t know enough about alcohol to know what that was. But he’s a bartender, so I’ll give him that.

“Well it’s obvious which one I’m going to get,” Mr. Obnoxious said looking at the menu, “they only have three and I own two of them.” Well, good for you.

“Oh look,” I said, “they have my favorite scotches” trying to sound somewhat cultured in that area.

“Which ones are your favorite?” Mr. Obnoxious asked (probably the first question he asked me all night.)

“Talisker and Oban,” I said.

“Oh, I figured you would say that.” (What was THAT supposed to mean?)

“Well I’ve been to the breweries”

“Aren’t they called distilleries?”

Alright, fine. It seems that this date isn’t that bad yet, I see that.  But getting rather obnoxious, no?

I noticed that when I was speaking, (not that he had asked me anything, I just decided to offer up information about myself) he would start looking at the menu or something, as if he wasn’t paying attention to me. I really don't like it when people won't look you in the eye.

During one of these times when I was talking, Mr. Obnoxious interrupted me and said,

“I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but do you want to go hot tubing?”

“No,” I said. “No, I don’t want to go hot tubing.”

“Okay, that’s cool, I just didn’t want you to think I was an asshole or something.  I mean, it’s not like I just want to see you naked, although that would be cool too… it’s just a nice place to talk.”

Right.

I declined dessert and getting more drinks, I just wanted him to take me home.

As I got out of the car, I wanted to make it clear that I did appreciate the nice dinner.

“See you around,” I said... DAMMIT! I panicked.

“Really, can I call you?” Asked Mr. Obnoxious.

“Um, maybe?” I said. SHIT!

I could see in his reaction that he knew I meant, NO!

He never called me, thank the powers that be.

I found out later after telling this story to a friend’s boyfriend that the only hot tubing place in the area is a naked one.

And hence, the story of the worst first date I’ve ever had, even worse than the one who went the bathroom and didn’t come back. Sure, that date was a disaster, but at least it wasn’t painful from the moment it began.

The one I was "too young" for

I just got this email. One of my brother's ex (yes, one of them) wanted to set me up with a friend of her's. Jewish, single, into live shows, used to work with her at yahoo! years ago. I was excited, I've never been set up before.

Today I got this email

hi Jamie,
I got your name and email from Alice. she was singing your
praises and was trying to set us up on a date. initially i
was open to the idea, but the more i thought about it the
more i realized that the age difference is a bit too much
for me. i know they say the older you get the less
important that difference is, but for me right now it's
still a barrier.

sorry that it's breaking this way, but i hope you
understand.
have a great weekend,


He's maybe 34 at the oldest. 6 full years older than me. really? I'm too young for him? I guess I have to give him props for at least emailing me and telling my himself. I suppose I'll have to write back and thank him for that?

The one that I totally forgot about: continued

I'd like to refer to the one I totally forgot about as the Lawyer Artist.

So this thing with the Lawyer Artist is getting more and more intense. What the hell am I doing?

I made him a mix CD yesterday and sent it over. Since we talk mostly about music and he likes everything from classical to Malian to alt-country. It was really fun to make and I thought that he would really appreciate it.

But listen, I kinda went over the top: IT HAD LINER NOTES! I briefly explained who the artists were or why I picked the song. CD mixes are deeply personal to me and I feel like my music is a way for others to look into my soul. I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. I spend a lot of time and energy making them, I love to make them and I love thinking about the recipient, and it doesn't matter how well I know them.

CD mixes are my creations. They are my own personal art form. (I'll make you one if you promise to report back to me and tell me what you liked/hate)

I requested Lawyer Artist to make me one. Because you know that a CD mix is the way to a music lover's heart.

Whatever, I'll make one for anyone that asks.

He's sent me a few mp3s: some from an Algerian artist we both like and some from this samba/merengue singer, of course all in other languages.

Well, the one I got today is this band called Blackmore's Night. a song called "Wish You Were Here" and he made sure to tell me the name of the song.

But um... check this out and some of the lyrics

Wish You Were Here...
Me, oh, my country man,
Wish You Were Here...
I Wish You Were Here...
Don't you know, the snow is getting colder,
And I miss you like hell,
And I'm feeling blue...

I've got feelings for you,
Do you still feel the same?
From the first time I laid my eyes on you,
I felt joy of living,
I saw heaven in your eyes...
In your eyes...

And I miss you like hell...
And I'm feeling blue...
I miss your laugh, I miss your smile,
I miss everything about you...

etc, etc, etc...

WTF??

I'm trying not to get carried away, but it's really hard not to.

I'm having fantasies of moving, getting married, having babies and going to lots and lots of concerts with him. jesus christ.

Like I said, if this goes on, I'm going to have to go there just to see what it's like physically being there with him.

The one who was so hot and didn't speak much english, re-VISITING

Let's review the one who was so hot yet didn't speak much English shall we?

Well, he's going to be in the area for the next few months. Well, remember when I said that Mr. Hottie was traveling around Central America and working his way up to the States? Well he's coming a couple months earlier than he thought.

He was supposed to be visiting family and then working there for a couple months, but it seems as though he doesn't like it there and wants to come up here.

He's staying mostly with his friends parents, but since they are in Mexico for the week, I'll be picking him up at the airport and he'll be staying at my house for a couple nights

I have no idea where he's going to sleep. But I have a feeling I'm justing going to say what the hell. We'll see.

The one who won't leave me alone, pt. 2: Firecrotch

Alright, so I have to finish this one, because there certainly is more to tell.

And I'm going to try something new; instead of calling my cast of characters random names that I have chosen for them like some terrible real life tragic story from Seventeen magazine, I will call them something personifying my image or association of them. So I will call the one who won't leave me alone "Firecrotch."

Anyway, I had a conversation with Firecrotch last night and it seems that every time I talk to him now, I am overtly sarcastic. I also make fun of him to his face and I am mean. I am not a mean person. I also take my sweet time calling him back, but so does he. There is obviously something going on here.

I know that he is not worth my time, but I wonder if I put up a wall because I still have feelings for him. For a long time I really pined for him, but I don't anymore. But I still obviously still have intense emotions, and it's really, really, really annoying.

I have to see Firecrotch at a wedding in June, with his new gorgeous thin Indian doctor girlfriend, and I really want it to be a good time. I don't want to feel awkward and frustrated.

Alright, let's backup a little bit shall we? I need to fill in the blanks of the last ten years or so.

Firecrotch and I never lived in the same city except for before we met each other at camp. Soon after I met him, his Jewish family moved to Vegas to live among the many Mormans that live there. (Ironic that so many live in the vice capitol of the country isn't it?) I saw him about twice a year when he came to town to visit cousins. We would go get food, drive around, whatever. I always looked forward to seeing him.

I tried to make quasi moves on Firecrotch, like putting my legs up on his while watching movies, but it always seemed awkward for him. But I didn't really know how to do things like that, so I would try a little bit and then give up if I wasn't getting anything in response.

I do vividly remember having a conversation with him when I was about 16 about my eyes. I probably said something about how my glasses obscured them or how their color was really boring. He said something really nice like "getting lost" in them or something. I think I didn't know what to do with a comment like that. What the fuck was he trying to do to me?

Firecrotch is all about lists. How many girls he's kissed, how many countries he's been to, how many girls he's had sex with, etc. And then comparing it to mine.

At one point in college he told me that he liked to kiss girls simply to clear the air of sexual tension. But of course I was never one of those girls. He liked to tell me all about it though. And like I mentioned previously, he liked and still likes to remind me that I was his first REAL kiss. Just reminding me.

Thanks.

In my last year of college and his first year of med school he would call me at 2 in the morning, and I was okay with this. I don't even remember what we would talk about. In what world is it okay to wake a friend out of a dead sleep just to shoot the shit on a regular basis even if that person says it's okay?

I did realize that he never really told me much about the nice Jewish girl he fell in love with in college. That he kept quiet.

But Firecrotch wanted to hear all about my love life, and when I started having sex, he wanted to give me tips. Explicit ones. That made me crazy, emotionally, mentally and certainly physically. It was like the most torturous dirty talk in the history of dirty talk.

One summer we both went to Europe. I went to live in Scotland and he had a EuroRail pass that didn't go to the UK. He didn't want to come visit me because his train pass wouldn't get him there. I got pissed at him. Why wouldn't he come visit me? It was too expensive. Whatever.

Toward the middle of the summer I went to Denmark to visit a friend, and while in Copenhagen, guess who I randomly run into on the freaking street?

Yup. Firecrotch.

I start freaking out and the rest of my summer is shot as far as trying to hook up with any Scots there, especially since I didn't know how to find the one that started it all. My poor friends in Scotland had to listen to me obsess about Firecrotch and how it was so weird that I RAN INTO HIM ON THE STREETS OF COPENHAGEN. I thought it was a sign from the Gods or some crap.

Later that year back in the U.S. I saw Firecrotch and told him that I had feelings for him. It was a super big deal for me to do this. All he said was "I'm flattered but..." and that's all I needed to hear, I changed the subject. It was bad. We never talked about it again.

The next summer I went back to Scotland, and he sent me an email saying that we should go somewhere together, on a trip. I wrote back, "how can you ask me a question like that when you know how I feel about you?" I didn't hear back, AT ALL. So I emailed him later sort of apologizing. Lame. I love how somehow he got me to apologize for bringing up the fact that I had feelings for him and he was being a douche.

So I've brought up my feelings for him a couple times. It was 6 and 7 years ago though. I still talk to him. Not sure why.

Since then I've continued to see him about once or twice a year. While in med school he traveled around a lot moving to a different part of the country every time he changed rotations. I even went to New Orleans with him and some other Jews for Christmas one year including the girl he was fucking. It was awesome. I managed to have a good time though.

Firecrotch has friends, or acquaintances, all around the country. After awhile I started feeling like I was part of his harem. How many other women around the country had crushes on him? I knew of a few. This made me feel pretty horrible and pathetic the more I thought about it.

Since then I've been backing away from him, and (hopefully) obsessing less.

During the last semester of grad school, I was mad at him for some reason I can't even remember and I avoided his calls for months. I just couldn't bring myself to deal with him. This was not a confrontation I wished to have.

Finally when I did talk to Firecrotch, he asked me why I had been avoiding him, I apologized and said that I was angry with him for some stupid reason and I should have handled it better. He didn't press the subject further. Awesome, I apologized again.

I feel that there's no point in bringing this stuff up anymore. But now I feel that I just want nothing to do with him and that maybe it's that I don't want anything to do with these feelings anymore. Maybe it has nothing to do with him. He just happens to be the person that they are directed at. It has more to do with me and these bottled up emotions of being rejected by so many dudes.

But if I call him now and try to talk this out, I don't even know what I would say. The feelings go back 13 years!

I'm mad at him, but I don't even really care anymore.

I'm wondering that maybe I should force myself to talk to him about all of this just for the sake of the couple that's getting married in June. It's not going to be fun for anybody, especially for me if I can't enjoy myself because of him... But of course it will seem really fishy if I do this now because he's just gotten himself into a relationship, something that he's not had since college. He's not just fucking this girl, he's actually dating her. (Not that I really care, I don't want him anymore, I know that!)

Help! Why can't I just let this go? It's because I'm a girl dammit! And we don't readily do that.

Kinky Boot Beasts

I just went back and watched the part in Yellow Submarine where The Beatles meet up with the Kinky Boot Beasts in the process of saving Ringo from the monsters at the bottom of the "ocean."

Get this: the Kinky Boot Beasts stomp up to the Yellow Submarine with the intention of smooshing it. After the Kinkys violently chase the Submarine around for a few seconds, the Yellow Submarine ejects a large boot (featured in the photo above), and stomps on one of the Kinky's toes. They scream and run away.

Does this mean that I (if in this metaphor am the Yellow Submarine) drive away all of my Kinky Boot Beasts (lovers/men/crushes/whatever) by stomping on their toes, hurting them of their egos in some way? Maybe that's why they don't stick around. Fabulous.

Maybe I should have gone back and watched this scene one more time before I started the blog!

Whatever, I like the name.

Have I mentioned that there is, what looks like, a hippie jam band by the same name? Google them!

The one that made my heart skip a beat: Addendum

Oh the joys of the internet.

Guess who is now on *that* networking site. Yup: the one that made my heart skip a beat.

He wishes me love and happiness, what a sweet one.

He's now a professional singer, still living in my home town. He's got a big band. They go to Japan and places like that, they must love that he's half Asian over there. He's got an album too. He's even got a stage name, I think because the Polish one wasn't working for him.

He looks exactly the same.

I have absolutely no crush on him anymore. But I do very much want to hear a recording of him singing. Don't you?

The one that I totally forgot about

The internet is a strange thing. What did people do before it? Jesus, we actually wrote with pens, looked things up in books and talked to people. What a horrible world that sounds like...

Sam found me on one of those networking websites earlier this week. I had a huge crush on him in college right around when I was "dating" the one who was painfully shy. I think I met him through is roommate who lived around the corner from me in the dorms. I've completely forgotten about him, he wasn't even on my list of people to talk about in this blog.

I thought Sam was so interesting. I've always been drawn to Renaissance Men, you know, guys that do everything: paint, play music, are ridiculously smart... Sam was one of those guys. He also grew up in Eastern Europe and Texas, so he had this hot cute accent. Oh yeah, and he's Jewish.

His dorm room was full of his paintings, all what I remember as very Italian Renaissance-esque looking portraits. I was horrified when I saw that he would paint over old paintings that he didn't like, they were all so gorgeous! He played the classical guitar, had the largest music collection I had ever seen mostly filled with classical music and classic rock and was a double major in biology and psychology. We would "rock out" to Palestrina and Simon and Garfunkel.

Physically, he had all the qualities that I usually like that my friends never understand. He was a little chubby, had a goatee and that late 90's floppy hair.

We anyway, he found me online earlier this week. He's now a freaking human rights lawyer, has lost like 40 pounds and loves to travel.

I saw that he went to grad school (not law school mind you, he's got two grad degrees including the law degree) in the city I lived in after college.

"I lived there too" I typed, "I wonder if we were there are the same time. Wouldn't it be annoying if we just missed each other?"

He responded, "I am disappointed…don't you remember meeting up at a coffee shop? I think we hung out once before you left….That's ok, it was a long time ago …I forget what I did two days ago"

I'm so embarrassed and pissed off at myself at the same time. First of all I DO vaguely remember running into him and thinking it was weird awkward or something. But that could have just been me, for all I know I could have been involved with the one who didn't know how to make up for it. I mean not only did I let this guy go while I was lonely in this city, I didn't even bother trying to be friends with him. But I guess it goes both ways.

Anyway, we emailed back and forth everyday long emails for the next few days after that, updating each other on our lives, sharing musical recommendations and youtube videos and travel plans. He remembers things about me that I'm really surprised about, like that my Dad is a lawyer.

I'm kinda freaking out about this... I mean I'm actually thinking of finding excuses to go there and see if we can meet up.

Am I that desperate? Is this real? I went out on a date last night with a boy that I think is fun and cool, but I can't stand kissing him. It's pretty horrible. And I'm also going out on a first date tonight with a guy who seems like he's a surfer-lawyer-frat boy. I don't do surfer-lawyer-frat boys! We'll see, I don't want to assume things about him before we even meet in person. I'm trying people!

Anyway, Sam didn't email me yesterday or today and I'm really hoping he does. I don't even know if he's single or straight or what? Why does my imagination get the better of me? I get so disappointed all the time. It just creates a world of it's own and runs away. It never gets bored, that's for sure.

I make myself crazy sometimes! But he just seems so perfect for me from all the way over here...