First, let me apologize profusely for my absence. Work, and the after work functions, have kept me in a state of hyperactivity. To top it off, I left work yesterday feeling like crap. Perfect.
So, I went on a blind date of sorts on Sunday evening. I say “of sorts” because I had a photo of the date, and had emailed the date, but I just hadn’t met him in person yet. The “friend” that set us up was fairly confident we would get along, but you never really know about these things until you meet someone.
The Doc (he is a surgeon) was driving from Chicago to meet me. I felt a lot of pressure to be ultra beautiful, entertaining, funny and smart. I literally thought to myself, while sitting in my car - “You are totally out of your league.”
In his emails to me, The Doc had told me that he thought I was very attractive. He is a blonde, blue-eyed, all American looking guy (maybe I DO have a type, kiki?) and I said in an email to him that we should both reserve judgment until we could actually meet and see if we had any chemistry.
After attempting to contact several people for moral support, thank god deb answered because really? I needed a pep talk. As I sat at the bar of the restaurant waiting for him to show, I just kept thinking - please, please just let him be NORMAL, I just want normal. I was concerned that he would show up and be 5′ 5″. I mean, I am little, but good lord.
He was better than normal. And 6 feet tall. Once we sat down to dinner, we had the craziest, most rambling conversation I’ve ever had. He is a brit that moved here in his teens, so he still has a touch of an accent. He is funny and smart and we talked about everything - New Yorker articles, cooking, the Naval Academy, motorcycles, him almost dying of cancer 14 years ago, Santa Fe, my crazy family, his crazy family - to the point that we didn’t even realize the restaurant had effectively closed around us. We sat down at 7:30, and all of a sudden it was 10:30.
During dessert, I ordered a scotch, and I offered him a taste when it came to the table, which he accepted (he barely drank a glass of wine at dinner, presumably because he had to drive 147 miles home after dinner). I added more water to it, as it was a healthy pour, and after I took another sip, he stood up and crossed to my side of the table. He bent down and took my face in his hands and kissed me on the mouth. It was an AWESOME kiss (thank god!). He said “I’m sorry, I’ve been dying to kiss you for at least the past hour. At least.” All I could say was - “Don’t apologize” and try very hard not to fan myself.
It had been thundering outside throughout dinner. So we left the restaurant, and a cloud of rain literally opens over our heads and proceeds to dump gallons of water on us. The Doc pulls me into a space between two buildings, to shield us from further rain. It wasn’t too long before a full-on makeout session started, complete with thunder & lightening, and of course, more rain. Due to previous disappointment with ED (erectile dysfunction) issues, I decided I just HAD to check and see. I am happy to report the Doc passed the erection test with flying colors.
As the rain subsides, we step back out onto the sidewalk and we are soaked to the skin. I wring water out of my hair, and I had to check to see if I had any makeup running down my face, so I pull out my little mirror. Lo and behold, the rain had washed away ALL my makeup - I had not one smudge of makeup left on my face at this point. Dude….
The one bar left open was PIZZ-ACKED, so we didn’t go there. We sat on a bench by the state capitol building and continued to talk, and make out. At one point, he said - “Did you know you lost an earring?” I was distressed, and he offered to retrace our steps with me and look for it - I declined, and took the remaining earring out, and put it in my purse.
At this point, it was close to midnight. The Doc decided I was too drunk to drive home, I protested a few times, but really, you can only protest so much. So we moved my car and he drove me home in his Porsche, which we proceeded to make out in once we got to my apartment. The groping was pretty intense at this point and all of a sudden hes like, guess what?
“What?”
“I found your earring…”
“No you didn’t!”
He proceeds to pull an earring out of my fucking cleavage.
“You took that out of my purse!”
“No I didn’t. Check”
So I check, and I have two earrings in my hand, and he just looks at me and says “Where’s the trust?”
We laugh, and say goodnight. And it was a success, I think. HOWEVER -
This dude had so many crazy stories that it is almost hard to believe all this shit has happened to one person! Just some tidbits…
-While he was dying of cancer (he was given 10 weeks to live), his family started selling off his stuff and almost emptied out his trust account.
-He owns 11 cars - he just sold a Maserati, he has two Ferrari’s, and I can’t remember the rest, except that I know he has two Porsches. And two motorcycles.
-His parents live in Italy because “there are no extradition laws for financial crimes there” - that is a direct quote.
-I don’t know where in the convo this came from, but the statement “and after my very public disagreement with Mayor Daly,” also slipped his lips.
Dude - who IS this guy? As my cousin said, either he is the most interesting person alive OR he is a pathological liar.
It’s never easy, is it?
He sent me a text the next morning that said
“You are amazing. Shame about the chemistry….”
