Sunday, April 21, 2013
I had a meltdown this morning. I feel like a firetruck with a big sign on my butt that says “Danger – Keep 300 ft back.” Sigh.
With all the craziness this week around the Marathon and the Lockdown, I felt the need to reaffirm that I am alive! I wanted to talk with a nice man.
1) I decided to try AM chat last night.
I haven’t done it before but I was home alone and bored. I got pinged by a local guy. He was so easy to talk with! I felt a great connection.
Maybe you can tell me why a guy would talk to me for two hours, tell me he wants to meet for lunch, tell me he will call in 15 minutes to settle the details and then…NOT CALL?! No call, no email, no message on AM. When did the lie start?
I’ve been emailing with Mr Truck for 6 months. We have fun sharing p0rn. He tells me when his wife is away and that we should meet, but it never happens. So this time I asked if he could call me. He has a great voice and speaks very well in a sexy way. Oh, great idea, he says. He is a morning person, so he picks 8 am today. So I get up early, get myself all psyched up and… NOTHING.
So I sit at my computer crying, wondering what is wrong with me that two guys in 12 hours can’t be bothered to call me at a time they chose? I ask for so little and I can’t even get that?
Another chatter had the misfortune to wish me a good morning on IM about 11 am and I whined all over him, poor man. But that seemed to help.
I need to lower my expectations a lot… and not saddle these men with my need for a special man when all they want is a little chit chat now and then.
Mr. Truck emailed me eventually – so sorry, has the flu, fell asleep on the couch about midnight and missed his alarm. Whatever.
Mr. Hyatt is asking when he can see me. I feel stupid not to do it… but I just don’t care. I should give him a second chance, I suppose. But he doesn’t listen to me… and sends me the oddest videos. I dunno.
I want to dump them all and focus on Philip. He thinks he can get here to see me again… which makes me sooo happy! But I know I mustn’t give up all my local options just because he might appear for a couple of days.
It was fascinating which of the AM men checked on me on Friday when all hell was breaking lose in my backyard. Two guys – Panties Man and Schenectady Sam, a guy who somehow ended up on my chat list and we’ve talked like… four times. So… marginal guys. Am I wrong to think that if the AM men can’t be bothered to contact me when it seems like the world is coming to an end, I can assume they really don’t care at all? Not sure why it bugs me so much, but it does.
Wow… that was wicked cranky sounding! Sorry. I need some time off from AM or some sort of miracle. This week is nutty at work with a big event, so perhaps I’ll just sit back and not think about AM.
Monday, April 15, 2013
So there was a thing in Boston today. A VERY BAD thing. And it was all over the news. All over the world. Late afternoon, I started hearing from friends and family and project people and co-workers and bloggers and blog fans and chatters and Philip and…
You would think I would hear from the AM men I am corresponding with regularly. Mr Truck? Panties Man? Mr Hyatt? Maybe the Traveler who had just been here? Maybe they’d inquire as to how I am? Was I there? Am I close to the area? Tell me how they got along today with so many roads and services disrupted? I thought they’d check in.
The only man I heard from was Schenectady Sam, the guy over 100 miles away who had helped me try to unravel and AM Mystery in late March, that I hadn’t talked with much at all.
Not a word from any of the others. Zip. Nada. Zero. They were the only subset of my social circles that were silent. Why do you think that is?
So…. maybe you’re wondering what happened next, after Mr Hyatt and I had a lovely afternoon at the hotel? Did he keep writing? Did I see him again?
The man did almost everything right – beautiful hotel room, wild romp, said nice things about my body, asked to see me again before I left the room, texted me right away and I felt… nothing. I don’t care. I don’t want to see him again. I know, this is the sort of thing that is super-depressing for men to hear. But he was a perfect example of “NO CHEMISTRY!” Ugh.
I sat in my car in the hotel garage that day and felt…. nothing. I hoped the memories would get better over time, but… they got worse.
I told myself not to judge based on a first meet, then analyzed it from every angle, told myself I should not close the door, that there would be days when I would change my mind and need some man’s hands on me and it could easily be him. How could I turn away someone who was doing the right things? I won’t bore you with the long list I made of reasons not to carry on but the bottom line was… I didn’t want to! Imagine that… me not doing something a man wants!
Of course, he wrote while he was away. A lot. Even called me. But I still felt… nothing. I tried to be nice, sent him classy p0rn videos most men have liked and videos I like. He told of pining for me, sent me the oddest videos of huge sexy women (bigger than me!) being adored in various odd ways by thin ugly men – so strange I can’t even post them.
Then when he got home, he didn’t get in touch for three weeks and that was only to say that he was leaving again for six weeks! Why does he only write when he’s thousands of miles away? I know, I know… busy, busy… but… don’t say “I can’t wait to get home and hold you in my arms” and then… not write when you get home. But I was relieved.
Things happened in my life and I didn’t have much time for awhile and realized I didn’t want to make time for him ever. I explained about my new challenges, told him I was not interested anymore but he never seemed to get it. He’d email with the subject line “Let’s get it on.” That’s it… no message. Nope. Don’t want to. I kept answering for awhile, being polite. I don’t want him ticked at me. A man can do bad things when he’s ticked.
Then I stopped writing. That’s really not like me, but I couldn’t think of any other way to say, “no thanks.” He kept writing. He is still writing. Every now and then. Latest was, “Still got hots for you. You got anything for me?” Sigh.
I don’t want to think about him anymore. And I don’t want to write about him here. It feels write to be silent rather than write about him. So you won’t be treated to the continuing saga of Mr Hyatt.
Figures… I hate silence and the guy who keeps writing is someone I don’t want to hear from!
I got up to get the bottled water and the chocolate potato chips. We re-hydrated and shared the sweet crunchy treats. He was skeptical but after the first taste, ate several more and made nice noises.
He somehow thought sex would be the key to unlock all my secrets. He asked me where I work. I demurred. He asked my real name. No, sorry. Then he wanted to know where I live. Um… no. Really… no. He talked along, trying to trick me, telling me things, telling me I should reciprocate. Ugh. I closed my eyes and pretended to rest. He snoozed a little which gave me a break from the interrogation.
He showered and I got dressed. He gave me a big hug and a deep kiss and escorted me out the door. I walked to the garage.
Question: Does it work to write to a lady again, if she doesn’t respond the first time?
Answer: In general, it’s a bad idea to pester a woman who don’t respond but…
I smiled. I read his profile and looked at his photos again. Maybe his smile was sort of cute?
Valentine’s Day is fast approaching and I have no prospects for a hug. SmoothGuy and Mr Truck are nice but never seem to get to the meeting point. I hoped to see Simon Templar again, but it didn’t work out. My husband has asked if we could celebrate early, as he wants to be with a new couple he’s found to play with on the day. I haven’t met anyone in over a month and am going a little crazy!
The new guy is tenacious… maybe… I dunno… it would be polite to answer. Right?