Too Close for Comfort

Friday night, after watching Archer with my brother and his girlfriend, (and frantically realizing I couldn't take the car to Boston as it was buried in two feet of snow), I threw on a Club Monaco sparkly mini and Valentino wing top and slipped & hopped my way to Bubble Lounge to meet Mark. Mark and I had one previous date, an impromptu lunch last Thursday. I was a teeny bit late due to said car troubles, which I had explained to him on the phone. When I arrived, he had made friends with a married couple at the bar. Awkwardly, and quite drunkenly, the couple decided to guess our ages. Mark is 39. The couple were 43.... When the husband correctly guessed my age on the first try, his wife shot me the meanest look. Not a great way to start the evening. Dating older men can sometimes be so ... uncomfortable. My spangled miniskirt did little to relieve me of the feeling that I was perceived as his bit-of-stuff.


My concerns were somewhat mollified when we headed over to Macao Trading Co. for dinner:


Mark had reserved the absolute best table nestled in a corner, but still in the center of the room. A self-described champagne connoisseur, he ordered a large bottle of Dom. I was too distracted by the slight rudeness in his voice when he was asking for an ice bucket from the waitress to notice the year. I tried to be extra charming to her to mitigate his sense of superiority. I might have been a bit too sensitive, because he then became quite kind to her.


We ordered a massive fish on the bone for two (no idea what it was since he ordered). I usually don't mind when a man orders for me, as long as he asks my preferences first. I happen to really dislike fish, but when I mentioned that, he told me I would love it anyway. Hmm.


It's hard for me to recall the next few hours... except for to say that every time I started to say something, he interupted me. Perhaps it was his enthusiasm at what I was saying, but I got the impression it was more that he liked the idea of me. Whatever I started to say fit in line with his concept of who I was, and so he didn't feel the need for me to finish. It got a bit annoying, so I drank more.


Suddenly it was 11 PM and I was supposed to meet Jason at my apartment, so he could drive me to his friends house for chocolate souffle. I told Mark I had to get back as I was driving in the morning (no need to mention those plans had changed - we were now taking a bus). Mark insisted on walking me home. My heart skipped a few beats... Jason was driving over to my apartment as we were walking.


I started to get a bit nervous. I expected him to grab a cab as it was quite cold and he was all the way uptown, but he was quite the gentleman. We were nearing my block, I had suggested twice that he get in a cab. He said, "You don't want me to know where you live?" I said, "It's just that cabs are scarce on Friday night and I wouldn't want you to be stranded." He still kept walking with me. I realized, I could not walk down my block with him. What if Jason were waiting in his car and saw me? So I turned up the adjoining street and pretended I lived there. Luckily, another cab came by just as I was about to fake-turn into a building. Even more lucky, he got in. Whew.


I walked the half-block back to my place and ran upstairs. I quick changed and brushed my teeth. I hadn't eaten much at dinner and needed to sober up a bit. Jason was too important to risk hurting. Not two minutes later, he was at my door. It was great to see him again, but I couldn't help feeling a cloud of guilt.


He was in a great mood as he drove me to the apartment. When we got there, we played with the dog a bit as he finished up the chocolate, joking around in French as he pulled the perfect pieces out of the oven. We sat on the couch and talked until 2 AM. It was easy being with him, I didn't feel nervous or on edge at all... until he said it was time for bed.


It's always a little nerve-racking being with someone new, even if it is (mostly) sleeping. I went through the pretense of changing for bed, even though I knew my shirt wouldn't last the night. We crawled in and immediately started making out. It was great to just kind of roll around with him and feel close. But, he's different than the guys I usually date... not nearly as 'take-charge'. Still, I could tell he was really thrilled to have me there. We were both on the same page without having to talk about it - everything stayed above the belt. I'm definitely enjoying taking it slow... and once we were done making out, he said as much. He likes to enjoy every stage and doesn't see the sense in rushing, which is kind of great. I can't remember the last time I was with a guy in bed and he didn't push for anything. It made me feel safe.


We curled up together & fell asleep, spooning. In the morning, he drove me to the bus & briefly met my girlfriends.


The girls and I spent the next two days collapsing in fits of giggles about everything & anything while in Boston. It was a great, restorative weekend with old friends - just what I needed after weeks of being with mostly men.


*scorpio*