Los Angeles, CA
March 1, 2012
Meet Mr. Architect Plans. I’m only able to wear my shortest heels before I’m too tall for this nice fellow. I almost didn’t reply to his message when he said he loved working for the same studio I do. Ahhhh, excuse me?–No thanks.
A series of questions bombarded my mental debate: What if things go sour? What if I see him around the lot? Will it be weird? Only if I don’t like him, maybe!? What if he turns into a crazy stalker and helps himself to dropping by my office unannounced? Ah, if you don’t remember, Mr. Mystery Man is already in my vicinity. That’s just too close for comfort! What if Mr. Architect Plans meets Mr. Mystery Man and there’s a scuffle about who gets to have me? What if they cause a scene? Ok, maybe, that’s last part won’t happen. But still, I smile when I think about it. Who doesn’t want to be fought over?
Anyways, so I decide to reply. Our email exchanges seemed safe but I suggest lunch off the lot on a Friday before a long weekend. He agrees and offers to text me right before he picks me up in front of my building. He has a great phone voice. Hmmm….maybe.
I walk out and I stop dead in my tracks. Uh oh. He drives a BWV. That already says too much. Every BMV driver I meet tends to be rude and obnoxious on the road and doesn’t like sharing the asphalt with others. And as soon as we got on the main road with a yellow-red light run and a near-car miss, he was no exception. I’m going to have a heart attack.
He seems really fidgety. Is he naturally like that or he just nervous? Who gets nervous at the age of 35? We eat Caribbean food and as soon as we start talking, the conversation is organic and lovely and entertaining. He tells me drafts architect plans for the studio under the umbrella of facilities and has seen plans and located closed entrances to abandoned underground tunnels built-in the 1920’s, that only a handful of people know. How cool is that? I’m enthralled with the possibilities of adventures of exploring.
We have a few more lunches because we can and chat some evenings on the phone. I finally say, we need to get dinner instead of lunch. Because after 3 lunch dates, he’s damned near moved into the friend zone. Although an average looking guy, I don’t want to pounce on him and for his sake and mine, I need to know if we’re just good friends or if there’s more.
He picks me up from my home after my children are catching zzzz’s. A first I’ve allowed for any man in years. He’s on his best driving behavior (after a confession that I’ve had 3 heart attacks with him and have lived). I made an effort and put on a new lovely dress, heels and my french perfume. “You look really great,” he says. “Thank you. You look nice also.” And off we go to downtown LA for Korean BBQ.
He holds my hand. I can do that. We have a great dinner. Fantastic. I excuse myself to the ladies room and when I return, he’s gone. “Your boyfriend went to the car to get the parking ticket.”
Before I can correct her, I have another heart attack and then he returns for the validation. We walk around and get coffee and talk some more. He ends up telling he doesn’t have a passport. Deal breaker.
It’s late and I’m exhausted from a busy week and I want to go home. Too many things are bugging me now and he hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet.
While in my driveway and saying goodbye, he goes in for a kiss and it’s another deal breaker. I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.
So, now I know and so does he. Oh well. Attraction is a very fickle thing. And it turns out, I have a new friend.
Photo by Me