Valentine’s Day.. hooray!


What a lovely twist of events to bring a smile to my eyes this evening. I was to have a brief break between appointments and stuck in Santa Monica with only the dread of stagnant traffic looming. With a few “good deeds” (coffees for a few from down the block, a dog retrieval, cupcake reward) I was back to Starbucks (NOT my first choice, btw) to meet Computer-cherish guy for a few minutes before braving the parade of red lights before resting my fingers on these keys and my stuffy head on my pillow.

He said he’d have a “surprise” for me. Not eatable or bulky but flat and 5×7…I didn’t even have to get out of the car… how could I resist? His penmanship is strong, bold! He passed me a card he made with picture he had taken while we strolled through the Venice canals a few days before and tickets to Disneyland for Valentine’s day. How super sweet indeed! “Anytime” was all it said inside. He was nervous to see me, yet calm on the outside… he said so. We hadn’t even hugged hello. There’s an ease with him I enjoy and don’t feel I have the energy to question.

With traffic still piling up and 2 cupcakes staring us in the face, we decided sushi was the best option. He held the box as we crossed the street and made it to a middle table inside the bustling child-infested restaurant. We talked about just about everything under the sun and he kept revealing his interest and surprise of the flow of subjects that seamlessly fell from our mouths. We spoke more on the subjects of “cherish”, burning-man, drugs, dates, exes, future, goals, friends, children, families, dancing and strong partnering, the roles of men and women in today’s society and where they get blurred, learning in general and much more that my brain is stopping me from remembering at this moment. He tells me he’s “nervous” around me and enjoys the newness feeling. He wants to make-out with me but I’ve made it clear that I would prefer a clear breathing passageway before that was to occur. He understands but is less than thrilled by this. He wants to hold my hand or touch my skin but refrains, this I can tell. We talk of allowing ourselves to “be” rather than forcing what we believe or perceive we “should be” to fit the ideals of others. He’s bothered that no one gave me flowers on this day, Valentine’s day. He’s embarrassed as I pay for dinner when he realizes he didn’t bring his wallet since we were only going to meet for a 15 minute cuppa rather than a ‘drive-by” window toss and dinner was never in the cards. He ran 9 blocks to meet me in time as the traffic was ticking the clock and our time was to be short. Actually parked his car and RAN to meet me for a few minutes. He would’ve preferred the rain coming down as the romance in that was greater than he could’ve imagined… it was cold enough, though.

This one’s a keeper… so far at least ūüėČ

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Computer-light guy


Cherish – a : to hold dear : feel or show affection for b : to keep or cultivate with care and affection : nurture
2: to entertain or harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely

A word that changed his life after looking it up when he realized he had heard it too many times at friends’ weddings and found it usually went unnoticed.

Burning man is in his being, setting up camps, planning, co-existing in a creative world that was once and will never be the same again.

His dad was not fit after the Vietnam war left him with PTSD and with a fairly absent mother, he was left to fend for himself as were his 2 younger sisters.

He works for Apple, programming, while his left brain exudes creativity through photography. Moonlighting with a couple of DJ’s, he has figured out a way to program certain lights to sync to the beats they throw down from the comforts of his Ipad. A quest for knowledge of the intricacies of technology adds to his thirst for beauty.

We met at the parking lot entrance of Venice Beach. “the pier or the nature reserve?” I believe were my choices. I spun around in circles until I pointed to the left. His eyes were light blue, a thick head of locks beginning to grey atop his tall frame relieved me as my curiosity grew. Coffee was a must after my class and to begin this “meet and greet” of sorts and a stroll along the pier. We sat on a bench watching the birds flock to the newly caught fish tossed for their belly-filling pleasure. He’s sweet, calm, interested.

There were a few lulls in the conversation but that’s to be expected when only in the proximity of mere moments, though the flow was constant as we veered left, right, over and under a barrage of topics. Nothing was taboo, not even suckling the milk from a woman at a pretend “milking station” at a state fair.. like I said.. nothing was off limits.

It was easy, maybe because I wasn’t feeling 100% so the pressure to preform was released or just the confidence I had in myself in those moments? Whatever the case, I felt content just being me, without apologizing for it.

Our cups emptied and our stroll continued through the canals, passing by the few remaining caterpillars in the reserve. Still free-flowing our endless stream of consciousness.

With our winding footsteps finding our way to Abbott Kinney and our bladders filling, we stopped to gorge on veggies and empty our space at Lemonade. 3 hours passed and still we were engaged. Not a bad way to meet a new…

I took him back to his house in Santa Monica as he had walked from a Marina Burning Man meeting and was left without. He had to light up the stage that evening at a rave, I guess, later on, which I was invited to but with the sickness entering my nasal passages, I took a rain check.

I’ll see him again ūüôā

Angry Neighbor Guy…REALLY??


So we had a make-out session from the heavens and I’m more horny than all get out!! I knocked on his door to…really?? I can’t even lie.. I wanted to calm down as I was finished with all my preparations early and still had about 30 minutes before my goddaughter and her mom came by so we could make dinner and I guess I was thinking…”MAKE-OUT”?? Well, that and to smoke a tiny hit of pot since that ‘s something I do not do very often… once or twice a year. Why today? Why now??? I’ve been masturbating a few times a day thinking of the things I’d love him to do with me. Really?? Who am I?? I wasn’t going to write that part, the truth, in here. That I really went upstairs to smoke a hit of pot with him as an excuse to make-out with him. I’m fucked up!! ūüôā Why do I need excuses except for the rejection fears that plague me at times!!

 

As I write this he’s just knocked on my window angry because the laundry room in locked and wants to borrow my key so he can bitch and not go upstairs to grab his! He’s hot!! What the fuck is wrong with me???

So anyway.. I go upstairs to… and he has just been out with some girl that maybe he’s dating or wants to or whatever… but since I let her in the front door I know that they were out together which actually kinda turned me on a bit as he pulled me on top of him to watch tv. He grabs my ass as I straddle him, his lips on my left cheek it’s on. I lean into him. Eyes closed. Lost in the moments to follow as “Guess your lunch date didn’t do it for you, huh?” He giggles, embarrassed, which turns me on even more, wetter and increasing excitement as he reaches for my bra cupping my nipples in his mouth as our bodies are like magnets. Our tongues are in harmony as the clock ticks on, breaths increase, our rhythm in sync. My eyes remain on his lips as to drive me more crazy feeling his excitement grow, literally under my moist jeans. Hearing his moans as I pulsate on top knowing that each slight slither increases his movement under me. He tries to push me down but time is not on our side as he reaches down unbuttoning my jean barrier. “Do you HAVE condoms” I utter in his ear. “Yay” and I’m thinking my goddaughter and her mom can’t be here yet but knowing that we really don’t have the time to do what I want him to do to me. The hours I’d love to spend with his lips on my body. I see out the window…their car. It’s been 30 minutes and I can’t keep them waiting especially since I left my phone in my car. “I still don’t know if I can have sex with you”, he breathes as I smirk at him. “It’s a lot of compication where I live. I just don’t know what would happen if I did. “Aren’t you afraid of what would happen if we didn’t?” I ask as I get up, reassemble myself and bid him goodbye!

Later that night… he comes to my window, a bit tipsy, after my guests have gone. I let him inside. “I’m sorry for…” “”What?” he asks… “well for taking things a bit too far… actually I’m not”, I shy away into finishing my latkas for the morning’s holiday breakfast. “I’m not sorry either”, he says “It’s just.. I know how I am and I want to adore you for a bit longer. We genuinely like each other. IF we had sex then I would want it to be exclusive and like we’re really in it and I don’t know right now.” OK that’s sweet, when you think about it. He actually genuinely likes me and doesn’t want to fuck things up and knowing himself as I’m sure he does… actually having sex with me will make it lose it’s intrigue, the excitement, become complicated since we are 2 of 8 living in the building. AND I get it! Truly!! But with all his anger issues I don’t WANT to date him! I just want to have sex with him. And SURE… I’m probably kidding myself into thinking that I don’t want more but at this point with the way he is and the issues I SEE him dealing with and HOW he deals with them I don’t want that for my life, for my children.. my made-up future children that I may not have too much time to have without complications of being older and spawning.. SHIT!! AGAIN… What’s wrong with me?? I have one guy that I want to have sex with that is unavailable and another that I would love to get to know but is really unavailable and has shown me that he doesn’t have a desire to pursue or the time and desire, whatever… And these are the 2 I am stuck on??

“So what would we be doing if we went away for New Years?” I ask him. “I’d fuck you silly!”

Angry Neighbor Guy… why am I sooooo attracted to you?


It’s shitty to think that the ones I’m attracted to most are the ones that are not the best selection for me.¬† The unavailable either by location or using distance to distance, so physically void or better still… emotionally, where by they state over and over and over that they have issues or blatantly state and cover so the “mystery” I guess is the intrigue? For fuck sake! I’m tooooo old for this pattern to continue.

We’ve lived next to each other for a year now and the chemistry is palpable. The space between or the “danger” is intriguing. MY BODY wants to sit on him really hard!! And feel his man-hands handle me. I think about it and I ooze. NOW… I KNOW he is NOT the best selection for me and within the last year I have been able to get to know different sides of his personality, which is the BEST way to get to know each other with a separation of sex… but the thought of him picking me up over his head while kissing me on the way down and throwing me onto the bed, couch, WALL… pinning me to the wall.. yes please!!! IS overwhelming at times and I have to do whatever I can to keep my distance for the fear, I guess of magic taking place with a guy that is pretty fucked up in his own life.

THIS is not what I’m looking for… well, the chemistry and physical.. YES, PLEASE!!! But the emotional crap that winds him so tightly that anger is his escape… THAT’s not what I want for my life. This pattern brought on by your father isn’t working for you anymore!!!

I tried to have a strictly physical relationship with him for the last month I was in LA and he couldn’t do it! I know we are both attracted to each other and the sexxxxxx would be amazing, we both do but I think he’s holding out for more and in a way.. that kinda sucks because I know that this is how it would be. He gets frustrated, can’t hear me, bottles up his anger until it pours itself on every part of everyone around him, struggling financially because fear takes over, using his past as the excuse to keep him from and keeps him from being truly a happy, well adjusted man that is capable of loving and supporting a beautiful family. THAT SUCKS!!!

But holy crap I want him to fuck me silly!

Baggage Guy… where are you?


After about 3 weeks of knowing each other we have developed this sort of pattern, if you will, where communication is frequent. I have logged about 350 texts in this time and we’ve seen each other 4 times. If I didn’t respond within a few hours or even that day I would receive a text “do we need counseling” which I quite respect because he’s calling me on my shit! And he’s right!! Without trying to be, I can become passive-aggressive when feeling pushed aside. And when I ask a question that takes a few hours to respond to regarding plans or such after quick responses then nothing… I will also take a while to respond. THIS has proven the fact to me that we BOTH require adequate communication.

So when I get brushed off, even though I KNOW what kind a week he’s having and the schedule he is maintaining for a nap… WHICH I know he needs or sickness will set in from exhaustion… it kinda sucks! OK, that being said… he did swing by for 15 minutes for a hug before he set off again. Good, check!

AND when after a long plan ride to his next destination, a text follows where a question is answered and asked, then I reply and ask a follow up question and I hear nothing… nor the following day… nor the next… I begin to panic! I don’t mean to. I don’t want to. I have no desire or rational reasoning for retreating into a self hole of self pity, depleted esteem and lack of worth. It’s just some guy I met at baggage claim. Whom is unavailable do to job preference and career forwarding. After the 3rd day… I couldn’t stand it! I was crying in my car, yes, I will admit this. Fuck! And going over and over in my head what could’ve gone wrong, what I could’ve said, done, the energy I would have pushed him away with… etc… and I sent out a quick text “do we need counseling of naps?” which to me was calling him out on HIS shit of not responding, letting him know that I was questioning and feeling a lack of response all the signs I got from him when he text me similarly for the same reasons. A few minutes later I received an email telling me that it was to expensive to text from Canada and that all was well. SOooo I KNOW he received the text, or at least don’t think it was such a coincidence that he’d send me an email so quickly after I sent my text and for some reason… I felt immediately better. How fucked up is that?? I felt connected and not pushed aside even though the email was distant (my perception) and lacking welcoming into his life… I was satisfied with SOME sort of communication.

OH, I feel desperate and girly! Insecure.. hey, why do I equate desperately insecure to GIRLY? That’s one I’ve not really taken into account. I’ll have to think more about that one…

To continue… Now we’ve had a few brief and when I say brief… I mean his emails are not answering my piqued interest in his life with more than “all is good” of some crap like that. What happened to the quick wit and clever repartee that sparked the interest in the first place? NOW I KNOW…. I canNOT call him on MY insecurities or I will lose him for sure and I know that we’ve only known each other a month now with most of that time apart so…. again… MY shit!! BUT… I KNOW that or really FEEL that “too expensive” is just a cop out, a way to keep a distance since he’s going to be traveling more than ever come the new year and his fears are starting something with someone that he won’t be available to anyway… so WHY DO I STICK AROUND??? Ahhhh!! This seems to be a running theme for me! The unavailable!! There’s got to be a way to change my thoughts or self worth, which I do feel is shifting to an extent.. maybe not as fast as I’d like but there is a shift a happenin’.. to allow me the person that will understand and be grateful that he’s found someone as cherishable as me. Bring it!!! or Move on! (that’s to me)

awoke a bit angry, agitated…grrrrrr!


Last night I went to a recommended “erotic” series on-acts show to watch for content and format. Neither were anything to write home about. There was one woman who danced around partially clothed wearing an apron pretending to bake a cake to an outlandish song about… baking a cake. As she was miming her heat displeasure as she opened and closed the imaginary oven door, she took items of clothing off until she whip creamed her tits and pussy revealing her creamed body to us as the grand finale. THIS was not one of the worst ones. The overweight strip teaser, the mock erotic radio shows voiced by the hostess of the evening and some older guy talking about sexual positions between them and even adding “sister wives” to join in the fun. ¬†There was an “embellished” blond woman slightly past her prime, praying to the lord each time she mentioned her young hot stud and his promise to “go all night’…thank you, thank you, thank you lord, thank you”. The highlight were these 2 woman impersonating lower class, cholas from the barrio rapping about some baby daddy loser! They were Fabulous!! I had that rap in my head and for a moment didn’t feels so jipped out of my $20. And I brought someone to boot! I felt dirty and a bit pissed off to say the least. Why would my friend think that this was a show I should be watching? Got me out of the house, though..?

Our second stop was to Jeffery’s in the West Village to say goodbye to some folks that worked there before I¬†head¬†back to LA next week. It was packed so rather than waiting… my friend wanted a “proper Manhattan” and we were off to Employees Only on Hudson. My lady parts were not engaging in “happy, let’s get drunk” vibes. His 4 drinks to my 2 and we were dancing in the crowded bar, engaging with some locals and I was hearing all about how we’d not work out in a dating sense. Now this was all well and good, though I kept reminding him about the girlfriend he was living with and that I wasn’t interested in dating him, which he also got as he was scoping out the room for my viable options. A drunk wing-man…. I need not!

Without being rude, I was hoping to go back to Jefferey’s alone to sit and relax, catch up with the bartended, manager and waiter I had befriended, so I thought, on my last 2 visits. I was walked there by my drunk friend and we sat down for one more drink before I cut him off and sent him to his Girlfriend’s bar. He was a bit slurry and red-faced 5 Manhattans in without food to coat.

Once he stumbled out I had a chance to sit and catch the vibes that I wasn’t as welcomed as the last time I was there when the waiter and I took up space and tipped me over the mountain with one last drink at a neighboring pub. The bartender took great care of my needs of delicacy and banter… a making of a lovely friendship-connection. when the night of Halloween came to an end, the waiter had supplied me with the one too many, stomach turning libations and even a poorly planted kiss in which I remember him saying “that’s not a real kiss” falling on drunk ears, whipping my head around and almost tumbling off the stool as I attempted to feign sober. I knew as that last drink was placed on the bar… I should NOT partake. Do NOT drink this! Tell the bartender sorry, I’ve had too much and I will gladly pay to not drink it… but nooooo drank it I did. When the Jefferey’s tender joined us, he had become quite affectionate (from the cold standoffish ways of the night’s beginning), which MAY have¬†irked the waiter after the failed kiss attempt, who knows?? I know we quickly all stood up from our chairs and the waiter was in a taxi without as much as a goodbye, leaving the tender and I parting ways with a taxi flag and the question “so now where you going?” coming from him. “I’m walking home”. “I’m not walking all the way to the East Village” as the taxi door was opened. “OK, I am”, I replied. “Guess we part ways here, then?” “Guess so”, as I smiled, waved and headed across 7th Ave.¬† I did manage to make it home somehow after my long swirvy, way too many stops to regroup before the straight line was attempted again. I managed up the 2 flights of stairs with no landing, into the door, boots off, coat dropped, sweater thrown down and head in the toilet with the heated seat. I may even have washed my face with the bidet water.

That hang over took 2 days to heal and a week for the cold caught as well. Not one of my best nights.

I texted the waiter an apology, which he replied I wasn’t that drunk… all was good, nice of me to stop in… and I thought we were good. But as I ¬†could tell from my less tahn warm reception last night… Something changed! I had gone from this woman who was intriguing to them with extra care and treatment given to barely a hello from the waiter and the bartender forgot my name, was a bit of a dick and all my drinks were charged.

Now I know I should not take it personally but I do! For some reason in my brain, I had crossed over from just some chick, some customer into a sort of friend zone then cast backward to a less than ever meeting, wait in the back of the line place and that pisses me off!

My dreams awoke me with an angry dialog, made up in my head, of course about how like me out of pity and that I was old, wearing lady sweaters and an electric blue coat, feeling sorry for me and kicking me out. Not a great start to my day, let me tell ya! Not the taste I want left in my mouth after such a wonderful experience the last time! Kinda reminds me of the Malaparte crush, crushed! Don’t like the feeling! AND I didn’t even want to date these guys! Just felt like they had a poor opinion of me, which I’m sure is just me as they probably have NO opinion of me and that may be just as bad! Whatever!! Blech!!

Car-guy afternoon awkward ride


OK.. Car-guy wants to see me before he goes off for the another Wedding weekend somewhere. We agree to meet near my old hood in Hell’s Kitchen. I was around the corner and he was DRIVING to Columbus Circle. He said he was a minute or so away and 15 minutes later, I was called to get him some change and that the “lights were taking a long time”. NOW we have seen each other what, like 4 or 5 times by now?? He has NEVER, not once been even close to on-time and seemed to have lied each time about why. I would have walked had I known it was going to be this much trouble.

“I have to dress up next time I see you,” he comments as he wears a track jacket and shorts, cap and tennis shoes. I think I’ve seen him in pants once and it was raining that day. No harm… “Or I get to stand near you in public next time you don’t” I joked. He’s got this weird thing about public displays of affection and I’m not talking making out on the street corner. Well that too, but I’m saying more like… don’t stand too close, rub up against or have ANY contact in the slightest while other people MAY be able to witness – kind of creepy. SO…WHERE ARE MY CLUES???

We find a parking place for the Mercedes that is NOT his since he’s borrowing it from the friend that crashed his car in the Hamptons a couple months back; illegal u-turns and down the street backing while lane changing… and I can see WHY his car would have been totaled. Actually it was a bit impressive, as scarey as it was to pretend I was not scared shitless. Walking to Columbus Circle, I in my Electric Blue Coat and heels and him in trackers carrying a shirt to be returned, we enter the “mall” and he says, “I’ll meet you in Crate and Barrel because I don’t want you to see me go off of these guys for making such a crappy shirt that I have to return after one wear. I’m gonna go OFF and you probably shouldn’t see that.” UM… The clue is WHERE?? I’m left to fend for myself in a mall of all places?? One of my LEAST favorite places on earth? FINE!

I attempt to walk around but angst sets in and I head to Whole Foods instead. Gosh, I really despise the mall. I text him that I will be in the chips section and to find me. When he texts back he says he’s looking for me so I come out to find him so we can go get lunch and I find him buying himself pizza because he “couldn’t find me”. Really? What’s the deal?? We had this issue 2 other times before when we were supposed ot grab a bite and he said he wasn’t hungry so I got something only to find that as soon as I ate my “tide me over snack” he was ready to eat or he “grabbed something on the way” another time. CLUE??? Anytime, here!! So, I ask him if we are still eating and he has “forgotten”. “Sure! But it has to be quick since I have to get to the plane.” Um..OK.. I’m STILL there, mind you.

We go upstairs to the mall’s “food court” and by this time it’s been about an hour after we were called to meet up for a bite and I’m hungry and a bit dissatisfied with the way this is going. We each order, him a quiche and myself a pulled pork sandwich. He says “we can share. It’ll be romantic”. I go with it, still smiling and hoping for the best. His quiche takes longer than he desired so he was getting a bit antsy and since I can’t touch him in public, I have no way to assure him it will be ok.

He takes a couple bites of his nuked egg souffle and about half of mine (since we’re sharing) which he liked better though complained it might hurt his stomach with all the sauce (to which there was not much of). Then he proceeds to pour 2 packets of salt on his quiche forgetting of course that we are to share it, offers me a bite after laughing “oh, guess I shouldn’t have done that, huh? It needed the salt though, it wasn’t very good.” Then snaked my last bite of meat out of MY sandwich and shoved it in his face. OH! THIS was NOT COOL! I instantly shot him a look which he took in as I sat there silent and in awe of the disrespect and lack of common courtesy. What an ASSHOLE! MY last bite of the almost half of sandwich I was almost allowed to scarf down because of his time restraint after being held off 20 or so minutes, been sent to get change, cast off to the depths of MALL-Hell, hungry and now my last bite stolen from my mouth?? REALLY?? CLUE..HEY if you’re there… PLEASE show yourself. Send me a sign that I’ve had enough of this one. Just ONE tiny glimpse of a sign!!?? ANYTHING!! I was STUNNED! “That was NOT cool!” were the only words I could get out. “NOT COOL!!” “What? there was barely any meat in there. You got ALMOST a half a sandwich. That should be enough for you. You weren’t paying anyway.” Again.. stunned!! Silent!! SIGN?? CLUE?? Come on!!?

As I walked NEAR him, on the same side of the street, back to the car with him now knowing by my head shaking, eyes down, arms crossed silence… That it was indeed.. not cool! OH YES!!! I’m still there. What am I thinking I’m gonna to salvage here and WHY?? This is NOT the guy!

“I can’t even touch you. Not in the car. On the street. Anywhere that is presumed ‘public’… That’s NOT OK with me” I manage to get out. “This is not our best time together”, he recoils. “What was your best moment of the last hour?” he tries to regain his footing. And I try to play along though I’m fuming, “I’ll go” he blurts out. “when I ate your sandwich was not the best part, though there wasn’t much meat left in it so… when I got my shirt replaced”. So much awkward silence filled those 20 blocks with him stressing about getting me back downtown so he could “make his plane”, which I found out was actually in Boston and he was picking up a friend to drive up together because the flights were cheaper and he hadn’t packed and REALLY?? What was I doing there?? “You know you can just let me out here, it’ll save you some time” I said. “No, I can’t just leave you on the corner” he replied. “No, you can. I love to walk and it will save time and I here would be just fine.” I continued. “Well, I’ll take you to the next corner”, he smiled like a puppy dog who knew peeing on the carpet was wrong. “OK, so That was FUN. Not one of our best days. And there really wasn’t much meat left for you to be mad at.” were the last words I heard him say as he kissed me on the cheek. “It’s really not about the meat”… And I closed the door and began walking home.

What is with me that I feel I have to be the “nice girl”? not to “rock the boat”? Afraid that “he” may not like me that keeps me in situations waaaaaay longer than I really need to be? HAVE I gotten it yet?? the SIGN?? the esteem shoved in my being?? ARGH!!

Crush crushed..


About a 2 months ago I wandered¬†blurred¬†eyed, cramped pains, ruffled hair and dragon breath into Malaparte in the West Village. Periods can be an awful beast! My eyes locked with one of the workers and my mood instantly changed. And with a quick trip to the bathroom…. so did I. Hair smoothed, mouth washed out, makeup under the eyes… removed. Start again!

It was crowded and threatening rain so a seat at the bar was the obvious choice. When I emerged from the bathroom after “fixing” myself the open seat had been filled. I was handsomely escorted outside to brave the weather since this was my first request anyway. There was only 1 umbrella covered table and it was occupied. There were no indivual lights on the tables as previuosly described to me and the air was thick on this early August evening.

I had revisited this restaurant after walking by a few weeks before and speaking with this lovely hostess for a some time. She was the reason I came back. Her spirit and humor put me in a friendly space. I may have found a new reason… or 2. The vegetarian¬†lasagna¬†being one of them… yum!! YUM!! holy crap yum! And one of the owners… super YUM!!!

Long locks pulled in low pony, sparking eyes and a cool, calm demeanor. I was hanging out for sure! I had nowhere else to go. I had napped too long to want to spend my night indoors, the beautiful garden at my apartment was dark and soon to be drenched so… I stayed. And stayed. And stayed. I was basicall alone in dark but I didn’t mind because I had an envelope and a pen.

I wrote out my thoughts, frustrations, desires. And when I ran out of space, I was brought some paper by the waiter. Drips of warm water dropped upon my white table cloth, missing the ink from my thoughts. A few others braved the weather though under the umbrella. Every once in a while… HE would take a breath from the chaos inside.

It took a while, maybe an hour or two. I was a sort of respite it seemed. He would step closer with each break, inquiring of my writings, commenting on my next step of drawing comparing it to an artist he knew of; making sure I was well taken care of. At one point one of the bussers were sent out to hold my umbrella while it rained on my meal. He shared bits from his life each time my pen was placed on the table. A brother who’s successful and sister who’s not as happy with her decisions and him in the middle, grown up in Italy and the mid-west. A bond was forming of some sort; a trust. I felt this with each person that shared with me in various capacities in the almost 6 hours spent dining.

When I left, most of the employees gave me hugs but he stood at the register counting the days’ profits. I was sure that he would follow me out and ask for my number or race after the pink umbrella like in the movies. I got all the way home. Alone.

A couple days later after a long search, weeks, for this particular west Village coffee shop that seemed to disappear when walking west to east, it happened. I was grimy and disheveled from a yoga class and a summer walk… I found it! Jack’s on 10th! And as I walked in… there he was staring at me. My crush! What are the odds? The one day I actually find the joint and he’s sitting right there. Not at place down the street from his resturaunt or close to his home but the one place I’ve been in search of… amazing! One may even call… fate!

He walked me out and we talked all the way to the corner where we split ways… again with no number exchange. He seemed interested still. Why does he not ask me for my number? Maybe he’s shy.

A few days go by and I am a few hours from heading to JFK to go back to LA. My time was up and I was going home. I felt it necessary to write a Thank You note to the restaurant for taking such great care of me the night I was there. Well, that and to show them all how wonderful kind and thoughtful I was. I know this not even too deep down. I was grateful, though for the warmth and family like acceptance I felt so every one I was in contact with, got a personalized note of gratitude. HE was no exception and not an obsession though he was dreamy! I let them know I’d be back in a few weeks and thanks for the times spent so far! I was regretting that there was no contact info left for me, in case he DID want to reach me for some reason; no last name… ok… could be a bit creepy as I think about it now.. my thoughts not gesture.

When I get back to NYC a couple weeks later and wait another week or so… of course I stop by the place thinking there would be this wonderful reunion and everyone would thank me for the kind note and he’s have missed me and thought of what a fool he was for not making a move…ok, sometimes I live in fantasy because not only was the reception cold… no one remembered me at all. At least not what I looked like. I was told by the bartender that the note was sitting on the register and no one was too sure who wrote it. I knew the guy who held my umbrella, the hostess and HIM… knew who I was. Of course, the hostess was let go and the busser was back in Italy.

Now I feel a bit foolish as I had brought a friend, whom I told about the place and who had visited while I was away so they know her but not me. Great impression I made, huh? I didn’t even get a “hello” from him or as much as a glance. I did get a “oh, you look a bit different, you’re back”. Not the warm reception I was hoping for; that I had built up in my head!

I went back one more time a month or so later and was greeted with the same vacant excitement.

I saw him a couple days ago while I was crossing town and he was on his bike. I almost called out to him but what was the point? so instead, I went to the restaurant later that night to ask him some stupid question and I could feel the “you’re creepy” vibe coming from him as he couldn’t get away from me fast enough, barely making eye contact, short choppy answers and I was out of there! What’s the point? Crush? Crushed! OR Reality in check! Next!!