Despite hours and hours on the phone with Hot Boss – as in, our shortest phone conversation was 1-1/2 hours, this is how I know we’re just friends: the other night, we were talking and he asked about my tattoos. First of all, he said he noticed I had one where he wanted one when he saw a photo I allegedly sent him from the beach. I would just like to clarify that I never sent my former employer a photo of myself in a bikini; that photo is on IG and Facebook! Anyway, he said that he’d been thinking of getting a tattoo when his wife was starting to fade and this would be his first tattoo. What would the tattoo be? His wife’s name in Japanese. And could we go to a tattoo shop here? Of course we can; I did not hesitate. It was just at that point, though, that I realized that we were truly just friends. I don’t know that he’d be attracted to me yet ask me to take him somewhere to have his wife’s name inked on him for the rest of his life. He couldn’t be that oblivious, right? Sooo… yea. I told him about my tattoo that he was asking about, and how it has the name of a dear friend who passed away almost 10 years ago incorporated into it. I told him that tattoos tend to be done when something pivotal or memorable has happened in a person’s life. I’m not hurt or upset by any of this; it helped that I never knew what to make of it anyway. But now I know! As a result, I will not really be dressing to impress. If I want to wear my Nike high-tops and a sweatshirt, then I will, dammit.
To say that some of this is contradictory would be an understatement. I don’t talk to anyone every single damn day except for him. I don’t spend hours and hours on the phone with anyone several times a week other than him. My therapist is probably right; he’s filling a void and I need to be careful of the rebound. Maybe I made myself too accessible and seemed to eager, which is apparently a terrible thing to do. What’s going through this dude’s brain? I have no idea. I guess I’ll find out when he finally flies into town on Wednesday. There is no Pope and no UN General Assembly in town. The Yankees will hopefully not make the playoffs (Let’s Go Mets!) so there won’t be a game Thursday. There is no hurricane in the area anymore, either. The stars have finally aligned, it seems, and he’ll touch down at Republic Airport on Long Island around lunchtime on Wednesday. Then we go tattoo hunting.
He got an AirBnB literally around the corner from me. Pretty convenient. He made a comment about me making steak for dinner. I’m like, yea – no. I have to really like you to make you food and have you all in my personal space. At this point, no one has made the cut.
I have to go out his way next month for work, and we said I’d fly in early and bum around his city with him for the weekend. I may incorporate a short race (5K) and drag some willing coworkers with me. He said he’d take me to the race and take me around town and meet his son and all this. Mmmkay. He’s getting the floors on the second level of his house re-carpeted and is in the midst of moving furniture and books and disassembling things so that he can start to tear up the existing carpet himself. The carpet company has him scheduled for the Wednesday and Thursday before I get to town. He told them that it needs to be done by then because he’s got “a friend visiting” (that’s me). I’m not assuming I’m staying with him, and told him that I looked at AirBnB places nearby. Assuming we don’t hate each other after his 48-hours here, then I’m sure I will end up at his house and meeting his son, and possibly helping him reassemble furniture. Hahaha – that’s what we do for a living anyway, right? No big deal. He said he might have to toss me a screwdriver! Good thing I know my way around a toolbox.
So that is the latest. I’ve been thinking about it a little (a lot) and have not been very responsive to him today. Short messages although still polite and happy, but definitely not with the same enthusiasm as before. He’s still a really awesome man and I’m genuinely happy to have this kind of friendship with him. It’s a little confusing still, but I seriously am not thinking that he’s romantically interested in me.
I think Frenchie is out of the picture. Last Wednesday, he texted me asking if I had work the next day because he wanted me to go up to White Plains and spend time with him. He’s going to France next week for a couple of weeks. I told him no, that I can’t because I have WORK and that’s just how it is. Then he FaceTimed me (which I ignored) and texted me a couple days later and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch the next day. No, I can’t do that either! That was Friday, I think. Haven’t heard from him since. He knows that my schedule is crazy right now; I’ve been completely transparent about work and marathon training and grad school. If he didn’t live so far, I might consider this further but I can’t. Not even free Knicks tickets can coerce me. There is also the issue of ALL THOSE MOTHEREFFiN’ SELFIES!! I failed to mention in my last post that the wallpaper on his iPhone 6S is a photo of himself. I called him out on that shit and he laughed. How could anyone so in love with themselves ever love anyone else? No thanks.
And finally The Giant. We met up on Monday for a walk through the Meatpacking District, up the Highline, and dinner. It was a nice evening, and conversation flowed normally. He noticed that I was pretty stressed when we first met that evening; umm, yes. My workday was so busy that I almost canceled on him just to get shit done. Then when I got out of the train station, my phone was blowing up with emails from the West Coast (it was 7pmEST). So it took a while for me to relax and feel at ease with someone who I hardly know. Of the three times I’ve spent with him, including the night we met, he doesn’t have much luck with establishments being open. A gallery he wanted to show me was closed, so we had to discuss the art from the sidewalk which was fine. Then the latest extension to the Highline was closed already as it was past sunset. Hahahaha! He said I’m bad luck. He loves Halloween and I said I wanted to go on the Haunted Hayride on Randall’s Island. I tossed him some dates but told him that since he is a flight risk, I didn’t lock any tickets down. He texted today, sent pics of wherever he went this weekend, said we should get the tickets. I told him that my aforementioned dates were still applicable so it’s his call. He works remotely out of anywhere so he’s constantly going places outside the city. Yet another reason I can’t take him seriously. Last week, he asked me, “So you really can’t go anywhere for 18 months when you start school?” I looked at him and said, well yes – I’ll be going to LA and wherever work takes me. Am I supposed to be going anywhere with YOUR ass? Methinks not.
This is classic New York City dating. People are busy, and if both people are traveling, that shit never works. So yea, I have no idea what I’m doing with The Giant other than occasionally passing time with him.
I have to put on my big-girl pants tomorrow; my boss is in town for a couple days and we have socializing to do and planning to discuss. Good night!