Thursday, April 20, 2006

Thought of the moment: I wish I hadn't found out that the last guy I went out with was such a good kisser before I found out he was an asshole.

Okay, it's true confession time now, and I say this with the conviction and confidence of someone who knows no one is actually reading this.

The three-date rule is all very well and good, but at the moment it's not very comforting. I know that what I really want is a fella whom I feel good to be around and who makes no bones about liking me. It's not too much to ask and I know that. But damn, if that little quiver of doubt doesn't feel good too in its way. Hmm.

Here's how Stacey's latest adventure went down. Please understand that I am hormonal right now and that this may be my own personal Twinkie defense if I am ever confronted with this story.

Date one went well. I enjoyed very much meeting the voice at the other end of the phone line who had flirted and bantered with me. I was interested in everything we talked about and pleased that he seemed to be too. There was smooching as we said goodnight that confirmed the interest was mutual. We made tentative plans for a day that weekend.

Date two went a little less swimmingly, but could have easily been just the vagaries of two people getting to know each other. As we got to our destination (a museum), I noted that it was raining and was supposed to stop. He questioned the veracity of my weather information (perhaps joking, but a little too aggressively) because it was not radar. I clenched my teeth and observed that it was idle conversation, perhaps annoyed that I seemed to be the only one making any. I wasn't inclined to speak again until we alighted at our destination, and nor was he.

At the museum, I did my usual thing and made conversation about what I knew about the paintings. This went badly, as I apparently came off as lecturing. My companion saw fit to pick at every observation I made, until I gave up for fear of opening myself to criticism or ridicule. The remainder of the visit was pleasantly given over to somewhat simple comments that for my part I invested with little of myself. We walked a bit and had lunch. He was amusing and charming. Sex reared its head in our conversation playfully. We decided on seeing a movie. We had dinner afterwards. There was some very nice smooching. I told him it was too soon for me to canoodle. He seemed a tiny bit put out and we walked on, obviously in the general direction of a train home. I stopped him and explained that I wanted to be sure about him before canoodling. He said I *should* wait until I was more comfortable, but that we should get going before he got too worked up. We had a reasonably companionable and somewhat flirtatious train ride home. I explicitly told him (I'm too grown up to wait for a phone call) that I would like to see him again and left when I alighted at Edison alone.

Monday rolled around after I had done some thinking and I invited him to dinner. He dithered somewhat gracefully, I thought, because he was in the process of packing for a move. If he was not available, he was not being evasive. But he offered an evening that week. We made it a date.

I cooked a yummy leg of lamb and some vegetables and he arrived on time. He came into my place and made the usual awkward conversation one does with someone new in their home, but did notice that in his opionion that my own paintings looked as though they were hung incorrectly. In the bedroom when I gave the tour, his only comment was that the accent squares I had painted on the walls were crooked. He commented that I "brought out the smartass in him," and cattily referred to our museum visit as "the Whitney lecture tour." (Ouch!)

I won't lie, intimacy happened. I had to find out what it was like. And I felt driven to know that night. Let's just say that you get what you might expect if you hurry. It did the job, but no magic.

He stood in my kitchen and listened to me gabble about my family without really looking up as I pointed out pictures. Lack of interest, anyone? I had no idea I was so boring. When we sat down to eat, he ate everything on his plate with no comment. Then he helped himself to two of my homemade brownies (these must not have sucked, but he didn't say either way) and focused his attention on a poster I have of an old photo of the NY waterline from Weehauken. He couldn't rest until I looked up the location of a hotel in the picture.

Then, in the oddest moment of the night, he turned to me and asked, "Shall we go to bed now?"

Please know that in my invitation to dinner no sleepover was implicated on my part; this was complete news to me. I was stunned. I hesitated, but in a delusional moment said "Okay," with some idea that cuddling might ensue.

We went in and laid down, and then he went about making himself comfortable for sleep, but in a very businesslike way. Some...incipient intimacy happened, but petered out. Perhaps it was stress or fatigue.

I was restless, and, hearing his regular breathing, I rose and went to clear up the as-yet uncleared dinner things. I laid back down again. It was still early for me, but I slept some. Later, when dawn was breaking, I noticed he wasn't under the covers. I had the window open, so I thought he might be cold. "Do you realize what time it is?" he asked quite distinctly, and I knew that he wasn't asleep by his irritated tone.

Yes, I said, but I thought he might be cold. He snapped that he was tired and he was having a very stressful week and he needed to get some sleep, in a somewhat nasty manner. I apologized quickly, then observed that he was being very authoritarian, and he made some observation that he was in his place to be. I called him a cranky bastard in a half-joking tone and went back to sleep.

Later, when waking was inevitable, I rolled closer to him (I am an affectionate person by nature)and he asked again why I was so restless. I apologized, but remembered that I'd been pissed off by his irritable outburst and said that I didn't think I deserved to be yelled at and asked if he was in the habit of speaking to people like they were children. He remarked that he hadn't cared before, and that he cared only slightly more now. I rose some time after and began dressing. He took some time longer than this and finally dressed. When he was ready, we stood awkwardly at my door and I said jovially, "Thanks for stopping by," and made a move to hug him (intimacy HAD taken place, after all), and he demurred only slightly, indicating he would prefer not to.

Fair enough, I said, and let him out.

Normally, I would email the next day, mentioning desire to get together again, but I wasn't even slightly inclined this time. I don't think I was wrong.

But damn, what a good kisser...

7 Comments:

Blogger karen said...

(pr)Ick! What a disappointing series of events! Next time, feel free to invite the prospective to have dinner over at our house. A visit here should give you all kinds of assurances...you'll get to see if your friends like him (always important), how he does with kids and, if smooching is going well, there'll still be a short get-your-feelings-in-order buffer drive between you and more serious canoodling. :)

4/21/2006 11:12:00 AM  
Blogger bibliofilly said...

That may be worth considering! In this case, I think I probably already had my doubts, so having him to my place was a good enough test. I got to see how he behaved on my home turf and whether he respected my pets (Harry is a fairly reliable judge of character. He chose to be absent much of the time, if that tells you anything). And you know what? I think not even knowing if I *would* introduce him to friends was a sign too.

I'm not saying I expected a huge outpouring of gratitude, but usually when someone new cooks for you in their home, you:

1. Thank them for cooking, even if you are unable to genuinely compliment their cuisine.
2. Offer to help clean up.
3. Make some attempt to notice your surroundings. They are, after all, a reflection of the person you are getting to know.
4. Thank them for inviting you.

This boy's mama did not raise him right. Next!

4/21/2006 10:47:00 PM  
Blogger karen said...

Harry is a probably a very reliable indicator. Emily always was. Pixie probably is, too, but you're really the only person we've tested her on since she got comfortable here with us and we already know you're ok.

If you're willing to adjust for current age, my boys may actually turn out to seem as if they had a good mother.

1. They typically remember to offer the chef comments on the meal. Their comments are never offered with malice, however there's no way to tell in advance if the review will be favorable.

2. They usually remember to at least clear their place.

3. If, by 'notice your surroundings,' you mean conduct a full inspection of every item (moveable or im) in your home located at or under 44", they have this item covered.

4. If they are awake at time of departure, they typically remember to thank the host for having them over.

*sigh* I can only hope these early successes will stick! Lunch sometime soon?

4/22/2006 04:18:00 PM  
Blogger bibliofilly said...

ahh...your boys will not grow up to be mean to girls. Once they decide that girls don't have cooties, that is.

I would love lunch! I have been preoccupied with the mate search lately, in addition to dabbling with a job search that I lost interest in a while ago. (I go through these spells where I send out resumes, just to prove I can.)
At any rate, I could stand to take a break from all that...email me! I have New Yorkers for you if you are looking for something to read.

4/23/2006 02:54:00 PM  
Anonymous Phil said...

nice tits, shame about the twitching - surely there are perfectly good chemicals to fix that....

6/08/2006 10:05:00 AM  
Blogger b_flic said...

Phil - You are reading and responding to a blog of a person you don't care about, which pretty much indicates what a desperate person you really are. I have to say that you sound like a whiny, limp-dicked, selfish, arrogant, rude, crude, insensitive jack-off. Might I suggest a good mood stabilizer and some Viagra.

I will however give you credit for being so arrogant that you would actually post a comment with your real name and thereby admit to all of your short comings. And I'm sure that short comings is indicative of many things. Good luck with that!

bibliofilly - I didn't mean to spend so much time responding to a loser like Phil, but as a man - and a friend - I have to say that morons like him give the rest of men a bad name. So on principle, I had to respond.

Anyway, I agree with Karen. Pets and children don't lie. My roommate's dog and my goddaughter can smell an insipid jack-off a mile away. Having met Karen's children, I'm sure they would have not given this guy two seconds of their time. Or, maybe a second or two to kick him in the shins.

Also, as a friend let me say that you are an exceptional cook... as is Karen. To not thank you for an invitation to your home, much less a hot meal, is just bad manners. Apparently no one ever taught him the word, "thank you!"

Might I also add that you, and Karen as well (don't want to leave her out) have excellant taste in scotch. However you both have a questionable taste in hockey teams. Though admittedly the Sabres played better than the Devils... this year! ;-)

6/08/2006 01:01:00 PM  
Anonymous Phil said...

:whiny, limp-dicked, selfish,
:arrogant, rude, crude, insensitive
:jack-off. Might I suggest a good mood
:stabilizer and some Viagra.

I believe I was supposed to be an arrogant asshole, and was happy enough to play that role in this context. Which I aim to reprise right now. Stacey might even have some justification in pitching me as such, at least in the way I treated her [this is not so much remorse as a statement of fact]. I hope your rant gave you some satisfaction - but did you seriously expect me to give a damn about the opinion of some stranger who if (s)he is worth anything at all is going to side with Stacey ?

I'm going to assume you are just not that stupid.

Stacey undoubtedly has many upsides, but if she wants to rant about me on her public-domain blog, then it's open season. Especially if she knows I have read it (albeit very infrequently these days).

Whine away.

10/31/2006 05:22:00 PM  

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