Saturday, January 19, 2008

The Upside of Reruns

The Return of Writer Guy!

He was, understandably, frustrated with me, and I did little to allay that frustration. To be honest, I was relieved when he backed off, as I didn't have it in me to really get into a relationship, but felt pretty stupid about that. I felt ridiculous every time I told him I wasn't ready for anything substantive between us because I never say shit like that. I hated how it sounded, every time I backed off, as I sounded like that chick, and I never wanted to be that chick. I just knew I wasn't in any position to have a boyfriend, and when it comes to relationships, I go up to 11. I am an all or nothing kind of girl when it comes to matters of the heart.

I had just put a fake log on the fire and was settling in for a night of quiet. Book in hand, FoodTV shows in the background, yoga pants, emanating dried sweat from a run with Darbs, and breath reeking of the tuna sandwich I had just eaten. Life was pleasant and comfortable. And then, the goddamn buzzer rang, alerting me to a visitor. I stealthily sneaked out on the deck and saw who it was, and was fully prepared not to answer the call. Then he started singing. Yes, he sung loudly and badly, to the tune of "I Hear You Knocking," but with much cheesier lyrics.

It was ballsy and honest, so I answered the call. I told him I was settled in for the night, but he could come up. That blew his mind away, as I rarely let him in. He came up, looking fantastic, and I was there in my yoga pants and dried sweat. We hadn't seen or spoken to each other in weeks, and I expected some awkwardness. He scooped up Darby, who hates everyone but me and the P and him, and said "shower, hot stuff, let's sing." I was all proud at my moment of looking like, well, how I look when I am lounging about the house, and said "no, I want to stay in." He said "how well has that been working out for you, [his silly nickname for me]? Take a shower and let's go sing."

I did. I jumped in the shower and got fully ready in less than half an hour. I came out of the bathroom and he whistled at me and said "damn, you clean up good and fast." He called a cab and we set off for that insane karaoke joint in Kent. The whole way there, he acted as though it was perfectly normal for us to resume this whole thing, despite not having spoken in weeks. He politely informed me that he was involved with someone else, but that he just wanted to hang out with me tonight.

Buzzkill. Not that he was seeing someone, as I expected that, but that he thought it was okay to go out with me nevertheless. I had a mild wig out in the cab about that, insisting that I was so far from wanting to pursue in someone involved with another person, and if I were the current object of his affection, I would really resent this whole outing. He was quite taken aback by that and said "K, I always thought of us as friends first, and hopefully more. I'm not shooting for the 'more' tonight, I just wanted to hang out with you."

Yes, that fucking line worked on me. It was a shit week, capped off by a shit day, so I was quite delighted to feel like desired company. We walked in, and he put his arm around the small of my back.I tensed, and he felt it and whispered in my ear "you can be attracted to your friends." When we sat down, I grabbed his hands and asked him to tell me about the screenplay he had been working on. The look on his face positively melted me, as he clearly loves someone taking an interest in his work. He now has an option on that screenplay and shyly asked if I would look over the contract. I said yes.

Then, the shots came. I don't do shots, as a general rule. I prefer to sip. I should add that the shots came because the man can sing. He sang Desperado and he killed it. After a shot, he asked me if I would sing Lying Eyes with him. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable request, so I sang back up, harmony vocals with him. Another round of shots. I was feeling no pain at this point, only a strong desire for my bed, and then he prodded me to do a solo act.

I belted out a Snow Patrol song - Open Your Eyes. I have a history with that song, and although I wasn't feeling particularly maudlin, I apparently had my eyes closed for most of my rendition. Writer Guy led a standing round of applause, but truthfully, at that moment, I just wanted to be home alone. When I got back to the table, he was markedly more affectionate and flirty.

He's so vain. He probably thinks that song is about him, he's so vain.

Our moment of truth came when he sang this song, albeit drunkenly, but earnestly.

You would have had to have seen him sing it. It was good.

Anyway, we cabbed it back here, holding hands the whole way back. That was surprisingly intimate. When we hit my condo, where I am certain he thought I would invite him up for some really good sex, I balked. I told him that I didn't want to get involved with anyone involved with someone else, and he tried to assure me it wasn't serious. I had no reason to doubt him, but at that particular moment, I was sure my judgment was dubious at best. Suffice to say, I once again left him blue balled and likely pissed off, and that was never my intention.

I think we can transition into a great friendship, if we can both let go of the attraction. We have good chemistry, which is hard to find, but our timing is still so off.

1 comment:

Norm said...

Hahahah, I'm old enough and disconnected from my nads enough to say that that was a great date, had it been me.