Bad Idea

So on Friday night I took Lynn out for dinner at McCormick and Kuleto’s in San Francisco. I know, profoundly bad idea. But we set up this date - vernal equinox - before the ugliness and she said she still wanted to see me. What can I say? I'm weak. We have (or had) one more date scheduled - well, more than a date - it is our trip to the British Virgin Islands. She's decided that it probably wouldn't be much fun, so I get to cancel all those plans.

Anyway M&K's is in a kind of in a touristy area. It's not my first choice in restaurants when visiting the city, but Lynn really likes the food there – the view is not bad if the fog isn’t in (which it wasn’t).

I ducked out of work early – at about 5:30 and went to Lynn’s apartment in Los Gatos. She was in the parking lot, washing her car. I came up behind her and called out, “That’s boyfriend work! You shouldn’t be doing that.”

She picked up the hose and playfully threatened to squirt me.

“Hey, hey” I protested.

“We are going to be out all weekend.” She said, referring to her plans with her new boyfriend, Tim. OK, that I didn’t need to know. And so what? He should still wash it – if he was any kind of a gentleman. I washed her car when I was her boyfriend.

I helped her finish drying the car and pick up her rags and we went back to her apartment. “I need to shower. Sorry I’m running late. Can you call the restaurant and get a later reservation?”

“Sure, no problem.” We went inside. The thing that really hit me was the smell of the apartment. Smells can trigger memories, especially emotion laden ones. It brought back a flood of memories and feelings. It left a hole in the pit of my stomach. This was going to hurt a lot more than I thought. It was hard to believe that we were together here for less than a week.

There were a lot more artifacts of Tim around the apartment. Some of his clothes, motorcycle gear, some books. Lynn went into the bedroom and got her dress. Then she went into the bathroom and closed the door and pushed it hard to make sure it was closed tight. “You can get yourself a glass of wine if you like.” She called through the door. I went to the kitchen and checked the wine rack and found it filled with a lower grade of wine than I had left – most in the $5 to $10 range, and not even good selections for the money. Well, at least she’s drinking crappy wine with him. I sat on the love seat in the living room and clicked on the TV and tried not to think about her in the shower as I heard the water running.

She came out of the bathroom fully dressed and went into the bedroom to put on makeup. After about 15 minutes she was ready to go. We took her car newly cleaned car. I drove.

“So how do you celebrate the equinox? Do you give presents?” She asked. Friday was the vernal equinox - and the pretense for our date.

“Um, uh, usually I just have a nice dinner.”

“You don’t really celebrate the equinox, do you?”

“No.” Although I do note the arrival of the new season, it’s not really something that I would call celebrating in the classic holiday sense.

“Then why did you tell me that?”

“I would have said or done anything to have another day with you.” She didn’t say anything. So I said it for her. “Sounds desperate and needy, huh?”

“Rich, you’re sweet. And I do love you. And you can spend time with me whenever you want. You don’t need to make up excuses.”

“Thanks.” That made me feel a little bit better. But I knew that I had set back my recovery from clinical depression by at least a month.

Dinner was weird, I was there, but somehow not there. It felt like I was watching someone else go out with Lynn. She talked about her new job and the folks she is working with. I filled her in on the folks I was now working with and funny anecdotes about them. I probably mentioned Kristen more than I should have. And, then again, I don’t know why I’m worried about that.

“I’m going away the weekend after next.” I said.

“Where?”

“Up to Mendocino. There is a hotel there overlooking the harbor. I found it on my last trip up there. It’s beautiful – good for the soul.”

“It sounds nice.”

“You want to come?”

“No, Rich.”

The conversation dragged – we were not talking about the obvious. Finally, she said “Rich, we really shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

I was obviously crushed – but I know this is the right thing. “Why? Because you and I sit around drinking and complaining about our lovers, and you don’t want to hear me bitch and complain about you?” I stated the obvious, I thought.

“No, Rich, I don’t care if you bitch about me - really, I kinda deserve it. But that’s not the point. You need to get over me. The best way to do that is to not see me for a while. This is the best thing for you. I'd give you the same advice about any woman.”

“Well, I guess I’ll give you a call after I get crushed by another girl.”

“Woman.” She corrected me. “And Rich, some advice from a friend. Don’t get involved with Kristen.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem. She’s pretty happy with her current relationship – which has been going on now for quite a few years.”

“Rich, you have a crush on her.”

“Is it obvious?” Maybe, a little, maybe.

“I can read you like a book.” She smiled at me.

I picked at my dinner, eating about half of it – which is par for the course lately. Lynn enjoyed her dinner and had desert, which I poked at with my spoon since she asked me to help her eat it.

We were driving home on 101 out of San Francisco. It was about 11:00 but there was stop and go traffic - probably an accident. “Let’s have sex.” I said suddenly.

“Now?” she asked.

“Well, when we get to your place.”

She laughed. “No, Rich, I don’t think it would work.”

“Only if Tim has broken something on you. Because I still work just fine.”

She laughed again and put her hand on my shoulder in an affectionate gesture. “No, everything is working fine. I…”

“Good.” I interrupted her, “because I would never forgive Tim if he broke you like that.”

“Rich, we need to spend some time apart. You’ll get over me.”

“You know, you ruined my life. You got me fired, you cost me my best friend, my drinking buddy and my best girl.”

“Woman.’ She corrected me again. “Yeah, I did. But you have a new job – and you’re not working for Dave anymore. Probably a way better job. And you’ll find a new woman. You'll find a new drinking buddy.”

“Let’s have sex. It will be just sex – nothing more.”

“No.”

“Why not? You've been with Tim for about 3 weeks now. Let me do to Tim what he did to me. Let’s see how he handles it.”

“Rich.”

“Don’t you think he’s willing to share you? You can’t have just one guy, right?”

“No, it’s just Tim for now.”

Oh god. I did not need to hear that. OK, now my depression will last at least a year. I really thought that I would be physically sick. I didn’t think that I could have felt worse than on that Saturday morning when I walked out of her apartment for the last time. I was wrong. “So you couldn’t be with just me, but you can be with just Tim?”

“Rich, it’s different with Tim. We started differently. I can’t explain it.”

“Don’t even try.” I said bitterly. I really though about ramming her car into the median or the car in front of us. I though about just getting out of the car and just walking away. Dinner with Lynn had been such a bad idea.

“Rich, don’t be like that…” She pleaded, her hand was still on my shoulder.

We drove in silence for a while – inching forward with the slow flow of traffic.

“Marry me.” She said.

“What?” I was shocked, but what else is new.

“Marry me.”

I looked at her. She was so beautiful. She was wearing a flowing red dress, her silky black hair spilling over her shoulders. I looked into her beautiful eyes. A tear in the corner of one. She was never more beautiful than she was right now.

“Watch the road!” she yelled.

I slammed on the brakes and just barely managed to avoid rear ending the BMW in front of us. I had more adrenaline in my system than anyone should. I was shaking. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said. I glanced over at her again, quickly this time. “Marry me or I will keep sleeping with Tim.”

I sat stupidly for a minute. This needed to sink in. “Marry me or I will keep sleeping with someone else” was not exactly the proposal that every man dreams of. A horn brought me back to reality. The traffic had moved on. “When?” I asked driving on.

“Now. Today. Let’s drive up to Reno and do it.”

I sat stupidly for another minute. “But..” I couldn’t think of anything to say. It was like my brain had turned to oatmeal. This was some kind of emotional overload. I was still shaking – a normal reaction when a man is faced with marriage.

“I’ve just been through a horrible break up. I think you can relate. I could take the attitude that ‘all men are scum’ and have nothing to do with them for a year or so. Or I can fuck everything with pants. I figured why should I deprive myself of some good sex? But getting married would work, too. It’s just crazy enough. Marry me.”

“But..” again I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Can you say anything but ‘but’?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. Let’s go. Now.”

“Rich, you don’t want to get married.” She waited. In hindsight, she was waiting for me to disagree. The fact is I don’t want to get married. It’s just not something that guys really want to do. But if I were to marry, she would be the one. I want her to be the one. But she’s hurt me so bad – she can’t be the one. “Rich, I’m not going to give up my life just to play house with you. This is the problem, Rich. You don’t want me forever, you just want a girlfriend.” She put emphasis on the word “girl”. “You didn’t move in with me, you didn’t ask me to move in with you. You hardly reacted when I slept with someone else. I’m just a toy to you. You want me forever, I’m yours. But if not, let me go.”

Hardly reacted? What did she need? For me to hit her? For me to scream like a maniac? She couldn’t tell I loved her? What we had was meaningless?

“I’ll marry you.” I said weakly. Too weakly.

“Be serious, Rich.”

“No, let’s go now. I’ll marry you.” I said more positively. In hindsight, and after some time to reflect on it, I should have just turned the car around and drove to Reno. I was in the driver’s seat - literally. I was about to lose her again, because I would do what she told me – because I listened to her. You’d think I would learn. As I write this I realize that I am the stupidest man in the world. Just because I am commitment phobic I lost the girl. Now I can’t blame Tim, and I can't blame her. This is all my fault. Of course, getting married to a girl, excuse me, woman that says “marry me or I’ll sleep with someone else” cannot be that start of blissful matrimony. Oh, hell, I am just justifying it to myself. Why can’t I think faster? Why did my brain turn to oatmeal?

“No, Rich.” She said. “Take me home.” I saw a tear roll down her cheek.