Friday, February 1, 2013
Happy New Year!!!!
I heard from Patton II at 4:22 p.m. on January 1, 2013. I know this because his text is still in my phone. It was a nice message: "Happy New Year! now that the holidays are over and things are getting back to normal, I would love to see you again...." Wow, I was so surprised. Instantly my face lit up and I quickly typed back: "Oh Good! I would love to see you as well." Today is February 1, 2013. I still haven't heard from Patton II. Maybe he forgot that I was "that girl," and once he remembered me, vowed to never call again. Or maybe he met someone in between. Who knows.
Patton II
So I head from Patton II again. It was after Thanksgiving but before Christmas. I had totally written him off, after potentially hurting his feelings, telling him he looked like Mickey Rourke. Anyway, the holidays were around the corner, I was feeling lonely and I desperately wanted to enjoy the downtown scenery. Patton asked if he should pick me up or if we should meet. Since he lives downtown, I told him it would be fine if we just met. Patton picked Cucina Toscana. On a side note, I find it a huge turn on when men make the decision on where we are going or what we are going to do. I absolutely loath the "where do you want to go?" Anyway, I didn't recognize the restaurant but Patton told me it was on Pierpont Avenue, so I had an idea what is was and the kind of restaurant it was.
Like any girl, butterflies set in and I turned my Saturday into an all day spa day in preparation for my big night. Time clicked by quickly and I realized that I had better get going. I dressed accordingly, wearing designer jeans, a multi-colored cardigan that tied delicately at the chest and my favorite riding boots. I definitely didn't want to be overdressed and I was pleased at my mid-range attire. I get to the place where I think we are eating at and the address doesnt match. I am mortified. I was right on time, but now I had no idea where the restaurant was. I quickly googled the restaurant and realized that it was blocks away. It was dark and it had started raining. I had parked at work which was blocks away in the wrong direction, so I decided I would just start walking. I get to the restaurant late and a quick glance at my reflection in the glass window finds my hair is flat and sticking together in wet clumps. I decide there is no turning back so I just go in with my biggest smile.....but then my mouth drops. The restaurant is gorgeous and the patrons are even more beautiful. Men are wearing suits and the women look like they just stepped off the red carpet. Many had on formal wear. I look down at my outfit and feel completely under dressed. I see Patton and I apologize for being late and for my attire. He downplays it nicely and we get seated. Patton orders wine for us (another thing I love) and insists on a certain kind of appetizer. Already nervous and upset about how the night has started, I down my first glass a wine. I hadn't ate since the morning and the wine instantly put me back into a very chatty mood. Patton again does his usual quiet stare down. I wish I knew him better. Maybe that was normal behavior for him. For me, it as torture. I went over the various topics that I had pre-planned on talking about, until our appetizer came. Patton told me to go ahead and gave me various instructions. It looked like some type of bread dish with various sauces. The bread looked a bit unusual having a deep baking ridge down the center. Patton told me that he enjoys the dish by pouring the sauce over the bread. I looked at him while thinking about it. What an odd thing to do......but maybe that is why the bread had the groove in it right? The next thing you know, I pick up the sauce and pour it all over the bread loaf. Patton about spit out the wine he was sipping and said: "No, not the whole thing, you cut off a piece and do it individually." Needless to say, I was mortified. The sauce flowed over the sides and through the wicker basket lining and onto the table. I debated on walking out, but the wine had kicked in and I was relaxed enough to make a joke about it. Patton insisted our linen be changed. I replayed the incident over and over and figured at least he would have a good story to tell his friends.
The rest of the night went without incident. Patton drove me to my car and I saved him the awkward or obligatory kiss. I told him he was a good sport and that I appreciated the lovely evening. Without emotion, Patton told me that he would like to see me again but that he would be especially busy over the next few weeks because of the holidays. Yeah, sure...I said as I hoped out of his car and started walking toward mine. I didn't want him to think he needed to say or do anything to make me feel better, especially something that he would most likely not follow up with. The little girl in me wanted to cry, the teenager in me wanted to laugh but the woman in me went home and chalked it up to just another one of my "learning experiences."
Like any girl, butterflies set in and I turned my Saturday into an all day spa day in preparation for my big night. Time clicked by quickly and I realized that I had better get going. I dressed accordingly, wearing designer jeans, a multi-colored cardigan that tied delicately at the chest and my favorite riding boots. I definitely didn't want to be overdressed and I was pleased at my mid-range attire. I get to the place where I think we are eating at and the address doesnt match. I am mortified. I was right on time, but now I had no idea where the restaurant was. I quickly googled the restaurant and realized that it was blocks away. It was dark and it had started raining. I had parked at work which was blocks away in the wrong direction, so I decided I would just start walking. I get to the restaurant late and a quick glance at my reflection in the glass window finds my hair is flat and sticking together in wet clumps. I decide there is no turning back so I just go in with my biggest smile.....but then my mouth drops. The restaurant is gorgeous and the patrons are even more beautiful. Men are wearing suits and the women look like they just stepped off the red carpet. Many had on formal wear. I look down at my outfit and feel completely under dressed. I see Patton and I apologize for being late and for my attire. He downplays it nicely and we get seated. Patton orders wine for us (another thing I love) and insists on a certain kind of appetizer. Already nervous and upset about how the night has started, I down my first glass a wine. I hadn't ate since the morning and the wine instantly put me back into a very chatty mood. Patton again does his usual quiet stare down. I wish I knew him better. Maybe that was normal behavior for him. For me, it as torture. I went over the various topics that I had pre-planned on talking about, until our appetizer came. Patton told me to go ahead and gave me various instructions. It looked like some type of bread dish with various sauces. The bread looked a bit unusual having a deep baking ridge down the center. Patton told me that he enjoys the dish by pouring the sauce over the bread. I looked at him while thinking about it. What an odd thing to do......but maybe that is why the bread had the groove in it right? The next thing you know, I pick up the sauce and pour it all over the bread loaf. Patton about spit out the wine he was sipping and said: "No, not the whole thing, you cut off a piece and do it individually." Needless to say, I was mortified. The sauce flowed over the sides and through the wicker basket lining and onto the table. I debated on walking out, but the wine had kicked in and I was relaxed enough to make a joke about it. Patton insisted our linen be changed. I replayed the incident over and over and figured at least he would have a good story to tell his friends.
The rest of the night went without incident. Patton drove me to my car and I saved him the awkward or obligatory kiss. I told him he was a good sport and that I appreciated the lovely evening. Without emotion, Patton told me that he would like to see me again but that he would be especially busy over the next few weeks because of the holidays. Yeah, sure...I said as I hoped out of his car and started walking toward mine. I didn't want him to think he needed to say or do anything to make me feel better, especially something that he would most likely not follow up with. The little girl in me wanted to cry, the teenager in me wanted to laugh but the woman in me went home and chalked it up to just another one of my "learning experiences."
General Patton
Shortly before Thanksgiving, I met a Patent Attorney. I have dated this kind of attorney before. They are extremely bright (book smart), but so cerebral that it almost gets in the way of normal conversations. Anyway, in trying to get over the first "General Patton" (get it?) I decided to give this one a try. We met at The New Yorker, which I had not been to for years. I felt very special and sexy. He was so quiet though, that I felt obligated to keep the conversation going. He would stare at me inquisitively and I could see his wheels spinning, desperately trying to figure me out. Half-way during the conversation I decided I was most likely not his "type." When I get to this point, I usually change the whole scenario and my attitude and behavior and just start saying whatever pops into my mind or out of my mouth. He walks me out of the restaurant and across the street to my work. I pause at the side door and look at his beautiful, dark curls that he had slicked back and still looked wet. I then asked him if anyone has ever told him he looks like Mickey Rourke. His eyes widen which then caused me to blurt out: "Not the ugly, post-face lift Mickey Rourke, the hot 9 1/2 weeks Mickey Rourke." He cracked a smile and told me no in a very serious tone. He then gave me the softest, most sensual kiss I had had in a long time. I'm not sure if I will be hearing from Patton II. I know I overwhelmed him. I know I can be a handful and I know its going to take a very, very special person to both appreciate and keep up with me. Regardless, it was nice to finally have an old fashion "date," and gave me a reason to smile the rest of the day.
Girls or Guys????
So I'm online dating again....how dreadful. Someone recently told me that I'm never going to meet a decent man in a bar but I say that is highly debatable. I think it is less likely that I will meet someone "decent" online. I wonder if I return to online dating for the simple fact that it is entertainment, like being at the airport, except I am the one people are staring at. Who knows, but I did have a recent encounter that was worth sharing, so enjoy.
I got emailed yesterday from a 38 year old woman. She is cute, tall, rocking body and has the most perfectly implanted boobs I have ever seen. I was feeling kinda proud that I may still be in the age bracket where both men and women find me attractive and I was bored, so I entertained her with some of my famous banter. She told me I look like a lot of fun. I told her I was, but that I could never compete with her body.....she then responds with a "lol....mine is paid for!" We email back and forth and she gives me lots of nice compliments, asks me about work and then finally says: "I really want to set you up with my ex boyfriend. He is buff, ex LAPD swat and hung." What???? I had no idea what to think about that. First off, if she didn't want her boyfriend, why in the hell would I? Second, the jaded officer in me started thinking, she is probably in a nasty domestic situation and its far easier to pass her ex off to someone new than to leave him and deal with the drama that would obviously follow. I used my super smooth (funny) skills to get out of the situation by telling her that her ex would undoubtedly be disappointed in my almost 42 year old boobs, if hes used to playing with her "Tiffany" boobs. She again texted how funny I am with an lol...all I know was, I wasn't laughing....
I got emailed yesterday from a 38 year old woman. She is cute, tall, rocking body and has the most perfectly implanted boobs I have ever seen. I was feeling kinda proud that I may still be in the age bracket where both men and women find me attractive and I was bored, so I entertained her with some of my famous banter. She told me I look like a lot of fun. I told her I was, but that I could never compete with her body.....she then responds with a "lol....mine is paid for!" We email back and forth and she gives me lots of nice compliments, asks me about work and then finally says: "I really want to set you up with my ex boyfriend. He is buff, ex LAPD swat and hung." What???? I had no idea what to think about that. First off, if she didn't want her boyfriend, why in the hell would I? Second, the jaded officer in me started thinking, she is probably in a nasty domestic situation and its far easier to pass her ex off to someone new than to leave him and deal with the drama that would obviously follow. I used my super smooth (funny) skills to get out of the situation by telling her that her ex would undoubtedly be disappointed in my almost 42 year old boobs, if hes used to playing with her "Tiffany" boobs. She again texted how funny I am with an lol...all I know was, I wasn't laughing....
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