Wednesday, July 09, 2003

It's not that I haven't been trying. Last week's Wednesday night yielded a handsome young man in my bed by the time the night was over. Stopping off at The Cock on my way home from The Eagle, I saw a cutish slim guy, our eyes met, we chatted, and soon he said he had to leave. Then he seemed bewildered when I said goodbye, and stroked his chin again. Ahhh, he meant we should leave together. He (let's call him TATU - see Thursday post last week) was even handsomer in non-club light, and was fun and talkative. He slept late, and when he left sometime after 3pm, he left his phone number. Some years back I realized the 5-8 day rule for calling back doesn't apply after 35 (the idea being that you don't want to seem too anxious, or too aloof), and so I called on Saturday night. This being 2 or 3 days (2 from getting the number, 3 from actually meeting), but I just got his answering machine. Of course, Tatu's not yet 30, so perhaps he still goes by the other rule (waiting) and I called too soon, or he has to wait the 5-8 days that men under 35 go by (meaning I won't hear from him til sometime between Thursday to Sunday, if at all). Ugh.

Meanwhile, while at work yesterday, I get a phonecall. I never give out my work number, and even my closest friends never call me there. As we used to have another guy on the take-out side with my name, I asked for a last name form this caller with an accent, and he said he didn't know, but he was looking for the guy with the beard. OH. Ohhhhhh! Rather flusterred when the French accent finally seemed familiar, with 2 other incoming phonecalls and 2 live hungry customers standing in front of me, I put him on hold. Dealing with all the other folks quickly (efficiently, yet politely) I picked up the phone, he was still waitiing, and asked if I remembered him. Yes, yes. (Let's call him FrenchSlingBoy - see July 6 post - he is 3 or 4 of those "lessons") Apparently FrenchSlingBoy remembered from our conversations that night (last Friday) where I worked, and said that he'd been thinking about me and wanted to call. I told him it's really hard to talk, but if he could call back after 10:30, that would be cool. To make a long story short, he did call back, we spoke for a little while, and he gave me his number, making me promise to call when I got home - but not before asking if I wanted to hop on a train and go to Washington Heights to see him. (My answer, "is that above 14th st?", at least made him laugh when I said no). Later, we spoke at length, and I kinda let it into the conversation that a good deal of what we did that night is not on my regular menu, but nonetheless quite enjoyable, and I loved his kissing and affection. He confessed that he rarely gets so intimate in such a setting - the kissing and affection, but that I somehow got to him, hence the phonecall at work. We kinda left it up in the air whether we will get together again, but we talked about bike riding, his upcoming birthday Saturday, made sure we had each other's phone numbers, and I mentioned my plans to go to The Eagle tonight for PORK. He laughed, partly because it is above 14th St., and partly becasue I had seemed to me distancing myself from the "heavier" stuff - and yet was going there. I expalined that it is the music primarily, and the chance to get away from the regular neighborhood crowd, not to mention ogling over men who are in my age range. It would be nice if he takes the hint and shows up tonight, but I've learned a long time ago something about not holding my breath (breathing is kinda important).

I do have doubts about any sort of involvement with him, but of course, we haven't had so much as a real date, so it's a bit premature to worry about that. He did turn me on in surprising ways, and while that "magic" might not be re-created a second time, it is even more true that not finding out would be a mistake.