if i see something that i want, i make it happen. i’m not a bystander. i’m not a waiter. i’m not one of the earth-dwelling personnel who lives by the infamous quote, “if it’s meant to be, it will be.”
the occurrence that i am writing about today happens to pertain to a boy. well, a man.
let me give you the initial exposition.
i have an interesting taste palate when it comes to the male-smorgasbord that the earth so graciously provides. while i cannot exactly pinpoint a certain “type” that i go for, i am fully cognizant when someone strikes me with intrigue for more than thirty seconds.
additionally crucial to understanding the format of this narrative is the fact that i work at a gym which is usually inundated with meat-heads who count their macros and have bigger pecks than i do.
conveniently and pleasantly, he always came in when i was working but he wasn’t your average tank-top wearing, protein-poweder personage who entered the double-doors of the douche dungeon.
he was kind. he could hold a conversation and maintain eye-contact at the same time (seems trivial but it’s like striking gold these days). he was fit, but not the kind of fit that made you suppose steroids. he smiled and asked about my day and told me i was a hard-worker. he was roughly 15 years older than me, do the math (sorry, mom).
i was drawn to him.
a brief aside; when the women of my generation take interest in a man, they embark on a social-media stalking rampage. i am not afraid to openly admit that i hopped aboard and set-sail on the s.s. stalker as well. he turned out to be completely off the radar. no instagram, no twitter, not even facebook. what type of human doesn’t even have a facebook?? frustration ensued. i up’d my tactic level and enlisted the help of all of my co-workers since the gym was the only place i had seen this fellow. “if he comes in and i am not at this gym, you immediately call me.” loud and echoic shout-out to the 1-6pm co-worker who called me at 5:39 pm to alert me of his check-in. you say “creepy and psycho,” i say, “resourceful and dedicated to a cause.”
my heart was beating heavy with excitement as i walked into the gym. i spotted him finishing up his workout so i stalled at the front desk talking to a friend.
“are you going to talk all day or are you actually going to work out?” a masculine, joking voice surprised me from behind but i knew exactly who it was.
i asked him out. caught him off guard in the best way possible and he said yes.
he was an hour late to pick me up, but i was not strangling myself with soreness, the nba finals were on and i was briefly distracted by the fact that i was all dressed up with nowhere to go. when he finally showed up, i hopped into his truck and was overwhelmed with his good-looks. his truck wasn’t clean but i like a good credit score and a solid 401-k more, anyways. he talked about himself a lot. maybe he was nervous and just babbling. maybe he was really into himself and didn’t really care to ask me much about myself. he mentioned his ex-wife more than i really wanted to hear about but the comments were respectful so, i’ll give that to him.
jumping forward to the rising action, after leaving the restaurant, we ended up back at my apartment sitting very close to each other on the couch. we talked about an interesting multitude of topics; cuba, craft beer, dogs, why i asked him out, how i searched for him on the internet and then got my co-workers to help me (of course i told him, nothing is off-limits with me), his family and other things.
and then we kissed.
before kicking him out due to the clock sitting well past one in the morning, he told me i was the most unique girl he had ever met. he said that i was refreshing and different from anyone he had met. this was very flattering as he had spent most of his life moving around the world, meeting thousands and thousands of people. was i really of the upper echelon? will he really remember the 21-year old who asked him out by means of intense research and strategic planning? very flattering.
we called it off a few days later. i am moving out of this town in a month and he still acts like a 21-year old (and if i wanted to date a 21-year old, i would have asked out a 21-year old). and that’s not a diss. he’s just too youthful for my current interest.
wine, cheese, art, stories, whiskey, friendship and my vocabulary all simply get better with age.
was i wrong to insinuate the same outcome?
the only man that has captivated me long enough so far, mr. d.d. (see photo below)