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!!


Wet Fridays… gloom or glee?

As I walked around the city today a feeling of lonely isolation mixed with open communication. Weird. I took a walk and shared a seat for an afternoon break with the girl I bought a jacket from at a consignment store. She’s a dancer, moving to Ireland to pursue her dreams with her boyfriend in tow as a “keeper” and “life-partner”. A 28 yr old with a great head on her shoulders and a vested interest in her happiness.

I was slightly uncomfortable inside with an ease swarming around. It was a strange place to find myself as I waited for her to take her break watching the rain come down outside. What was I feeling? Why was it uneasy? I guess the thoughts of Bra-Girl came up… After all, a connection is just that.. a moment shared between one another.

We sat in the coffee shop on 7th speaking of yoga, grocery Co-ops, dance, architecture, travel and life. It was a nice respite from the solo walking day I was encountering already. The half hour was up and we exchanged info and split ways and with my new jacket and umbrella in hand I set off to the East Village in search of this Chinese shop she suggested for a fastener for the new purchase. I popped into a few shops, grabbed a water break and searched for a place to recharge my phone. Another disconnect of sorts to be without phone battery. No way to get in touch even if I had people to be in touch with.

After being kicked out of Best Buy, I found myself on the stroll again. Silent sprinkles forced me under cover, further isolated from the world. It was a muggy rain so plastic boots, a rain coat in one hand, new light jacket and umbrella in the other I covered my head to keep the mane tamed.

From East to West I wandered, checking my phone from time to time to see if anyone was reaching out or responding to my attempts. Knowing only a handful of people in a new cityspace has advantages and opposite depending on the moment. This was not a time I was looking to make new friends though the idea of siting at a table all alone was not appealing for a Friday night. I was full of energy in my body but in a bubble as well. So how do I get myself out of this mood??? Find a crowded place and sit next to someone. The energy of a place alone will shift mine and since I’m not shy.. a conversation may be in the future.

Otto Enoteca Pizzeria  on 8th st/5ht Ave was the destination. Though my stomach didn’t want Italina in the slightest, I’d walked by this place too many times to not pop in. It was chalk full of smiles, wine and a bar for me to set my sights upon. Unfortunately there were no seats for me so the host was going to seat me alone. 45 minute wait to sit alone in a crowded happening Mario Batali New York restaurant on a fall Friday night. Um… sushi. There was an all you can eat sushi place a few blocks and at least if I was going to sit alone I could be at a window and really be alone. Boooo. This was not my idea of fun in the city that never sleeps.

A nice looking guy standing behind me was also waiting for a table and suggested that I join him and his sister so as not to dine alone. Oooo… THIS could be interesting. some guy and his sister, which may or may not be interested in having some strange woman take up space at her table. Thanking him, I got myself a drink and offered one for him as well. He declined. I had still not made up my mind. sitting at a table with strangers? Brother and sister strangers? Well…

She arrive and introduced herself, he had explained to her I MAY be joining them and she seemed wonderfully nice. Dressed up and energetic… I gave it a go. He paid for the drinks and we were off to share space.

He was wonderfully kind at times, complimenting his sister and her accomplishments and others pushy, driven and outspoken as he checked out women walking by. He doesn’t like to ask questions as the “middle” child states, “people will tell you what they want you to know”. This is good advice, I guess, though recently I have been making a point to ask questions of others so they are not always directed at me.

She’s just out of med school, a pediatric doc and he’s in finance. I didn’t delve as that’s all he gave me. They went to the same college and grew up just outside of the city with an older brother. She comes in to stay on his air bed and he wouldn’t have it any other way as she’s his best friend. Now THAT was super sweet. He held her drink when we walked to the table, her umbrella outside, paid the bill and was as proud as someone could be for a loved one. ALL wonderful qualities with Blue eyes and height to match.

She texted me both their info as we walked outside and he said “now you know 2 more people in the city.. almost doubled your ratio”.

I texted her back and FB requested, today, thanking her for allowing me to crash the party and I left him a VM, also thanking, and then asking to take him out for a thank you drink. Maybe I’ll hear back.. maybe timing was more than we think.

thanks for allowing me some company New York City peeps!!

Italian Restaurant Owner Guy run in..

Weirdly, I have been trying to find Jack’s Coffee on 10th street ever since I walked by a few weeks before almost as an obsessive game. If I walk from East to West it’s there but from West to East.. I get confused and end up on the wrong street. Every Time! I was nearing stay’s end and destined to find it. Today’s the DAY!

Carefully I paid attention to my each and every turn and mistakenly passing Joe’s, again, which is a lovely spot on 12th and Gay. I’ve been there a bunch and the staff is as wonderfully bold as the coffee but today I wanted to find Jack’s.

Turning the corner on 6th Ave making my way North something seemed familiar. I found my way to 10th street, which is the street I began on in the first place, and right smack a few feet from the corner… JACK’s!!!

Disheveled from a challenging yoga class, sweaty walk and an extra added bonus of the pimple I so lovingly oozed til it bled,  I found my way inside and right smack in front of Italian Restaurant Guy. Today WAS the day, I guess. My heart stopped for a second realizing the mess I was standing in front of him. He looked up from his shared table “Hello”, he smiled. “Hello”, I replied and asked if he was feeling better, rested and as I stood at the counter to grab my coffee… My heart melted for a second. Was he standing to give me seat? I didn’t want that. I’d rather he was sitting in front of me…the showered beautiful me rather than the mangled, smelly after yoga me.

This all had to be a sign. Why else would the one day I actually found the coffee joint be the one day I see him again? Coincidence? Maybe but I think not… destiny? Perhaps…

He walked me to the corner making small talk and the he rode off on his bike dreading the truck he was renting in Brooklyn since he’s a self-proclaimed BAD driver!

Maybe our paths will cross again some time soon. He didn’t ask for my number or to stay in contact… Maybe I’m nuts! OR just optimistic? Time will certainly tell as life is as it is and not what you hope it will be? Oh, bullshit… I want what I want! And he’s dreamy to me 🙂

Shakespeare again.. #5 to be exact…

So, ok… I walked again and was late… again.. SHOOT me! I called, I was 14 minutes late. It was f’n HOT… not to mention I moved to the Village today so I misjudged the time it would take to walk in heels.

He was less than pleased, sort of joking but I called him on it and apologized for being late. He said I’ve never been on time, which I corrected him that I was early 2 times.. well 1 time and on time 1 other on time and maybe he should plan things 15 minutes later and give me an earlier call time. I don’t mean it. He says I’m stubborn and HAVE to walk. I’m not sure that’s stubborn.., thrifty, perhaps? Maybe I just enjoy walking?

Dinner was at a place, which I’ve dined, Frank’s Italian, in the East Village, his suggestion, so I didn’t want to poo poo his plan. He HAD a plan, mind you. The food was delightful; the ambiance was loud.. much louder than when I sat outside by myself talking to two salesmen from Oregon and Baltimore. He was razzing me about not remembering ALL of our conversations at the Vodka Bar last week. He revealed some of the lost memories with tales of his smoking and us sharing our admiration for one another.

We walk to a jazz bar a few blocks away; I hold his arm, he strangely stiffens up. What is with that? Why do guys think that if a woman takes an elbow or forearm that they immediately bend there arm so as to keep our hand from falling down? It makes them feel weird or at least stiffen up and walk differently. Sorry. Ok, so we sit outside on a bench in the now warming evening… a glass of booze, to which he claims not to be a lush.. oh!! We ended up at the jazz bar since I declined his offer to go back to his place to have a drink. Really? Is that where the night was going? ‘Cause I wasn’t feeling it go there. We had just spoken over dinner about how he didn’t kiss meon the 1st couple dates because he liked me but wasn’t sure that there was interest on my part so he HAD to kiss me on the 4th date or there wasn’t going to be a 5th date at all. “I wasn’t going to waste my time if we hadn’t kissed that night” he said to me. “Really? ‘Cause the difference I liked about you was that you didn’t shove your tongue down my throat on the 1st meeting”, I replied. THIS was our dinner conversation. Really? do you think I’m going home with you?

Our evening ends with him waiving down a cab and putting us into it. “2 stops” he says.. his, then mine, claiming he forgot I had moved to the Village.. ok! Again, asking if I was going to come over. I say “another time” and he’s off with a slight peck.

Crazy! not a word about seeing each other again. No text or call today.. another thing he told me he didn’t like was talking onthe phone nor my delayed responses in text. “replies should be immediate with texts” were his words. Wow, really? Not sure I’m liking him as much right now. Think that sex thing is the main thing on his brain and not getting to know me… that’s too bad… really.