Give me all your fries

Today I took paddle-girl on our "date" to the paddle club pot luck. I brought a bunch of my turkey rollups in gravy. These were a resounding success, though I did take a bit of good natured ribbing about them not being proper beach food. It was not a great day for a beach party. The temperature never got much over 50 and it was overcast and threatening to rain, fortunately it didn't.

I picked her up in my car at about 10 in the morning. I had the top down, and the windows up with the heater on. She was waiting for me outside of her house. "This is your car?" she asked, with a bit of disbelief.

"Uh, yeah. I can't haul the boats around on it so it's not really practical - but it's really nice. You want the top up?"

"Naw, keep it down. Wow this thing is great." I had pre-warmed the passenger seat with the seat heater. She got in. "Oh, wow - heated seats. I love this. I thought you were poor. You drive that crappy truck and have a cheap boat. I bet you get a lot a girls with this car."

You know, it's weird. I never thought that girls would pay any attention to cars - I always thought it was a guy thing. But girls really do notice this ride. If I had any idea that driving an expensive car would actually be a chick magnet I would have bought one sooner.

Anyway, paddle girl was bringing jojos (fried potato wedges) as her dish to the potluck, and asked me to stop at the local Safeway to pick them up. We went to the deli counter. She told the guy behind the counter "Gimme all your fries." There must have been 4 pounds of them. We took them on a deli tray with a couple of fist fulls of ketchup packets.

"I though this was supposed to be leftovers?" I asked her "What's you do for Thanksgiving?"

"Cheeseburger." She shrugged.

"Not even a turkey sandwich?"

"Naw, just me and my roomates. We need the time to study, not cook." I had long ago forgotten the pressures of carrying a full load of classes.

We arrived at the potluck just as food tables were being set up. The beauty of this arrangement was soon obvious. There are a bunch of club members who are older and do to whole thanksgiving thing, and have a ton of left overs. And there are bunch who are college athletes, with no money and voratious appetites. The kids get fed and the older folks don't need to eat turkey casserole for a week. Win-win.

Maurizio showed up fashionably late, bringing a couple of cases of beer in a cooler. He put the cooler next to the food table, extracted 2 beers from it and made a bee line for Brad. Looks like the two of them will be a couple, if Maurizio has his way.

Debbie sat down with paddle girl and me and proceeded to gossip about folks that she worked with and folks in the paddle club. She quite acted like she was talking with a couple of the girls, which I found amusing. But paddle girl seemed to be annoyed.

Even though this was not a paddling event, some of the guys brought surf boats and were out playing in the waves after lunch.

The event lasted well into the late afternoon. Paddle girl and I headed out about 4 in the afternoon, as the sky began to darken. She was uncharacteristically quiet as we were headed towards Santa Cruz. She is usually quite cheerful. I though something might be wrong.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Whoops, I thought. During the day there had been nothing "date" like at all about aour outing. While I am truely flattered that a 20 something college girl might be interested in me - a romantic relationship with her is not what I want. "Sure" I replied to her query.

"Are you gay?"

I tried really hard not to laugh - and almost succeeded. She had been talking with Debbie.

"I mean, you told me about big boobs, and your runaway bride - but, I mean you could have been talking about guys."

"Do I seem gay to you?"

"Well, no, but you can't always tell."

"Good point. No, I'm not gay. I've always had a real weakness for women. My buddy Maurizio, however, has always had a weakess for men. Anyway, at the club meeting last week Debbie started talking to me to find out about Maurizio. Sometimes I'll let girls think he's straight - for the occasional humorous outcomes, but I told her he was gay. She just assumed that since I was with him I was gay, too. That it rubs off somehow. I never corrected her."

"Oh, good." She seemed quite relieved at this. "Hey, you want to pull a dawn patrol tomorrow?" I need to get some more hours on the water.

Oh, no. I really don't want to get up that early. "Can we make it morning patrol?"

"Sure. 8:00?"

Much better. "OK."

"My car's still being worked on. Can you pick up me and my boat?"

I do need to keep from getting entangled with this girl.

Paddle Club

Today Maurizio and I went to the paddle club meeting. The club meets in the banquet room of a local restaurant – and bar. There seems to be a social half hour before things get started where everyone gets a beer or two and some food from the bar and settles in. Maurizio and I took a table near the rear, and we were joined by paddle girl. She was wearing retro-hightop basketball shoes, faded jeans and a green hoodie. I realized I had never seen her without a dry suit or paddle wear on. She actually has curves.

The meeting started with the recognition of several club members who had set club records or won competitions in the last month. This was followed by an update of their fundraising activities. Most of the members are 20 to 25, and in college. The club raises money to help send unemployed students to competitions that are out of state. Then they went into the upcoming paddling schedule - practices, pool time (to work on Eskimo rolls), outings and races. The coach got up and made a motivational speech, then it was mixer time.

Maurizio made the most of it. He was all over the 20-something hardbodies. He was flitting from group to group – mingling and getting phone numbers. There were about 60 people, but only 5 women. He was in his element. It is always amazing to watch him work a room. I’m in awe.

I went up to the bar to get a refill. A few of the guys followed me.

“So you’re the guy who’s been practicing with paddle-girl?”

“Uh, yeah, we’ve been pulling dawn patrol down in Santa Cruz.”

“Yeah, well.” He puffed his chest out a bit. “You know, paddle-girl has been through some rough times recently. And she doesn’t need any problems.”

“Yeah, she mentioned something about boyfriend stuff.”

The guys nodded. “Are you involved with someone, wife, girlfriend?”

Well, no – but you’re not really my type – I wanted to quip. Decided it was a bad idea. “I’m between attachments at the moment. But, don’t worry, I’m not going after her.” I chuckled, “she told me she was 17.” They laughed. “No worries.”

“We’d really hate for something bad to happen to her.” They never said it, but their meaning was clear, hurt paddle-girl – in any way - and we will break your ass.

Paddle girl has about 50 big brothers looking out for her. Good for her.

I went back to the table and sat down. One of the women came over to my table and sat down. “You’re new.” She observed. “I’m Debbie.”

“Hi, I’m Rich.”

She was friendly and chatty and seemed to like me. We talked for a while and I was beginning to think that maybe she was interested in me. And then she asked “that guy you came with…” Oh, I get it. She’s talking with me to get to Maurizio. Dammit.

I thought about stringing her on – sometimes it produces humorous results, but though better of it. “He’s a really nice guy, but I don’t think you’re his type.”

“Oh. What’s his type?” She said with interest.

“You see that guy in the leather jacket at the bar?” I nodded over at the guy Maurizio was chatting up. “he’s more his type.”

“But he’s a guy…” Her eyes grew wide “Oh. I didn’t know you two were…” She put a hand over her mouth – as if a tragedy occurred. “What a waste…” She looked back at him.

“No…” I was going to protest, but, oh, never mind, no point in denying at this point. Let her think what she wants to think. I sighed and nodded. “Girls often have that reaction to him.”

“Damn, the great looking ones are always gay. Are you two together?”

“No. We’re just friends. I’m…” again I was going to correct her impression of me, but she interrupted. Doesn’t matter – I’m not here to date.

“You know, I know this guy… you might really like him.”

Why do folks think this way about gays? I wanted to respond, I know this hetero guy, you two would really hit it off. You’d like each others plumbing. Why is it that people think that gays only need to find another gay to find a match? At this point I was a bit annoyed at her – so I said “I just got out of a bad relationship and… I’m kinda taking a break between guys. You know.”

“Me too. Guys can be so difficult.” Like if I were gay, I wouldn’t be a guy somehow.

“Oh I know. How come they just don’t ‘get it’?”

It was interesting. Debbie really became a different person, she let her guard down – and I suspect became herself. She wasn’t worried about me hitting on her, or about what kind of an impression she might make on me. She was a lot more relaxed and seemed to have more fun. No wonder girls really like gay guys. Maybe I’ll pull this ruse again someday. Anyway we talked until most folks had left.

Maurizio and I carpooled – he drove, so when he was ready to leave he came by and chatted with Debbie and then we headed out.

“Wow, I love this sport. I got 4 phone numbers!” Maurizio bragged once we were in his car.

“What sport is that, exactly?” I asked.

“Did you see Brad, the one in the leather jacket? He is HOT. God, I'd love to paddle to a deserted island with him.”

“I hate you.” I said. He knows that this is my jealousy of his ability to pick up 4 phone numbers in one evening.

“How about that Debbie? She’s cute.”

“Naw, she thinks I’m gay.”

“Huh?”

I explained our conversation. Maurizio though it was hilarious.

“What about paddle-girl? She seemed nice.”

“Some of the guys told me ‘hands-off’.”

“Well, that’s not very friendly – how come?”

“She’s coming off a bad relationship. They don’t want to see her get hurt again. Anyway she’s inappropriately young for me.”

“How old is she?”

“24.”

“Brad’s 23 – and I think I’m older than you. She sounds perfect to me. We could double.”

I laughed at him.

“You need to show me how to paddle. I guess I need to buy a boat. How does all that work?”

“You’re going to need a lot of stamina to keep up with Brad… “

“Yeah.” Maurizio replied. He was nodding and had a big smile on his face.

Perv.

Paddle girl and I will be doing the dawn patrol on Sunday. I missed it this week, due to disabling jet lag. And the club is having a “left over” pot luck on Friday on the beach – Maurizio insists on going. There’s no paddling and there will be drinking. Perfect for him.

Overreaction?

“Rich, you know that I’m a pretty live and let live kinda guy. Anything between two, or three, or even four consenting adults is usually fine with me. But this isn’t one of your better ideas. You’re both attractive, hurt, and lonely people who will be alone with plenty of alcohol and no adult supervision. Unless your plan – while you are sober and carefully considering the consequences – is to end up in bed with her, I’d think twice about this whole dinner thing.” Maurizio the Italian love god was lecturing me - on matters of the heart no less. We were at the Tied House, a brew pub in Mountain View. Maurizio usually does not venture this far south – so I know that he is really serious about this.

It’s good to have friends who look out for you.

“You’re acting like I have no judgment or self control.”

“Rich, look what just happened with Sarah. You said it yourself; you are weak and stupid when it comes to women.”

“You see. This is why blogs should be anonymous. I never would have told you that I slept with Sarah again.”

“No?”

“No, I learned a long time ago not to kiss and tell.”

“That’s usually a pretty good policy. Maybe you shouldn’t kiss and blog."

"Anyway," he continued "this Kristen girl doesn’t seem like someone that you want to be messing with. She’s on the rebound, and you do not want to be the rebound guy with a VP that you work with. Do you remember how unpleasant a rebound break-up can be?”

OK, that’s a really good argument – a good enough reason that Maurizio has won this debate. He’s right, I should not do it. But it’s no fun letting him win so easily, besides we still have more beer. “How do you know she even has any interest in me?”

“Rich, if your blog posts are even half way accurate, then she’s interested. You're her type. You cook, you clean, you’re polite, you’re presentable at corporate functions, you can tell the difference between a cabernet and zinfandel. Don't sell yourself short, Rich. Put on 20 pounds, get a tan - they can spray that on nowadays - and you would be some serious arm candy. Just what every Silicon Valley digital diva needs. You’d make a great house pet.”

Ow. Maurizio was making more sense that usual tonight. I thought about it. I could change my blog name to “Richard, kept man”. I mentally tried out a potential post – “Today I drove my Ferrari up to the San Francisco yacht club and sailed my 40 foot boat on the bay. I took pity on all the folks who had jobs and needed to work for a living – they all missed a wonderful day. Sailing really does work up an appetite, so I had a kobe beef steak sandwich and half a bottle of the best cabernet at the yacht club, as always, money was no object… “ Hey, it could happen. I’ve got to say, worse things have happened to me in my life.

I still felt like debating with Maurizio. “You’re assuming that she’s as dumb as I am.” Did I really say that? Out loud? Sometimes don't you wish you could suck those words right back in? When I heard myself I realized that I wasn’t going to win this point. “She may be smarter than to have an affair with a junior coworker. She is a VP and an officer of the company. She would be exposing herself and the company to the liability of a sexual harassment lawsuit. She didn’t get where she is by making bad choices.”

“You really think you could get her on sexual harassment? I don’t think so.” He laughed at me, or the absurdity of it.

“It takes two to tango. You are presuming that she is both interested and willing. I’m not so sure. She had me at her house the night before last after one too many drinks, and she was a perfect gentleman – well, you know what I mean.” OK, the beer was starting to kick in.

“Why take the chance?” He was right. Having dinner alone with her, at her house would be a bad idea.

It could only end in tragedy.

Heavenly Beauty

The wind played with her long brown hair as it gently swayed in the breeze coming off the ocean. The firelight gently lit up her face with a warm flickering glow. Her eyes were smiling brightly as she laughed at something. She was wearing black jeans and an oversized white pullover sweater - she wore it well - it had a very designer look to it and was elegantly accessorized. She was drinking something unnaturally red from a martini glass and it was almost gone.

I was once again in love, and I didn’t even know her name.

“What’s that red martini drink?” I asked Steve, the bar tender on duty at my favorite watering hole – Half Moon Bay Brewing Company. Maurizio and I were sitting at the bar looking out at the patio. After seeing Lynn and Tim together this weekend, I needed company and some 80 proof therapy. My new found love was a bonus. She sitting outside at the fire pit. There was an empty chair next to her.

“That’s a cosmo.” Steve replied to my query. You'd think I'd know that, given how much time I spend in bars.

“Give me one.” I asked “No, two, please.”

Steve proceeded to mix the drinks. It really didn’t look appetizing to me. It was a rather slow night, even for a Monday. There was no entertainment tonight.

I took the drinks outside and sat down next to her. Glancing back in the bar, it became apparent that I was now the entertainment for Steve, Maurizio and some of the regulars as they all peered out the window to see how well I would do.

“Hello, you seem to be getting a little low there, I thought I’d bring you a fresh one.” I handed her the drink.

“Thank you,” she said with enthusiasm.

“Hi, I’m Rich.”

“I’m Jill, and this is my friend Cara.”

I nodded at Cara. “Oh, fresh drinks.” She declared and held out her hand toward me. She seemed a bit tipsy. I was planning to keep the drink for myself. But it seemed like the right thing to do was to give her the drink, so I handed it over with a smile and said. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks” Cara said “Rich, that’s just short for Richard?”

“Yeah, just.” I said. Cara seemed a bit disappointed, but Jill laughed. Would anyone really go around introducing themselves with their financial status? Cara's not so bright. I like that. I looked inside and gestured to Steve for a drink. He nodded and grabbed a pint glass and filled it with the IPA – good man.

After the waitress brought out the beer I complimented Jill on her shoes - a trick that was taught to me in college. Women usually take a great deal of interest in footwear. They really appreciate it when guys notice their nice shoes. It often works wonders. Frankly, I can't tell the difference between a mule and a slingback - and I have no clue what Jimmy Choo does to leather that makes it worth $12,000 per square foot - but women seem to be really into them. Next I complimented her hair, which was stunning. I brushed a strand behind her ear – just to see her reaction. She was starting to get leery as if I was there to pick her up (which I was). I chatted about the weather and other innocuous subjects, then I decided to rush things. Girls usually make up their mind in the first minute how far they are going to let you go. Yeah, you can spend months trying to change their mind – but in this case I decided it would be better to know sooner rather than later. So I dived in.

“Ah... Rich, ah... I’m kind of in this... thing with, ah... a guy.” She said.

Crash and burn. “Well, you can’t fault a guy for trying. But I’m sure someone as beautiful as you has this happen all the time.”

She tilted her head down and laughed dismissively. “No, not really.” She was flattered – which was my goal.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, huh? Anyway, enjoy the cosmo. And make sure that, 'ah... guy' takes good care of you. It was nice to meet you Jill, and Cara.” I then took the walk of shame back to the bar.

“Oooh, Rich, I thought you had that one.” Steve said. “Here’s one on the house.” He passed me another IPA. Maurizio patted me on the back.

"I need a girlfriend.” I lamented.

“Why?” Maurizio asked. “They don’t seem to bring you a lot of joy lately.”

“Yeah they do. It’s the lack of a girlfriend that’s pissing me off. It’s when they stop being girlfriends that’s the problem.” We talked for a while, and I noticed a girl at the corner of the bar that kept making eye contact. “Hey Steve,” I called out, “Can I get one of what she’s drinking?” She was finishing a pint of beer, probably the lager.

I took her a fresh beer. She smiled at me and thanked me. I was quickly shoved from behind. “Hey, she’s with me.” I turned to see a guy who was about twice my size. And he was kinda angry. I really hadn’t noticed that anyone was with her.

“Sorry, I was just bringing her a beer.”

“Yeah, well I can get her all the beer she needs. Now get out of here.” He stuck out his chest and stood between me and her.

“OK, ok, I’m sorry” I held up my hands and backed off. Glen (the manager) was there ready to break up the possibly impending bar fight. He’s a small guy, but he knows how to handle himself. I was not going to fight this guy, he could have squashed me like a bug.

I sat back down with Maurizio. “That’d be 0 for 2” he said. The girl mouthed “thank you” and “sorry” at me across the bar when her date wasn’t looking.

I went 0 for 3 last night, and had a few too many - which was kinda the plan. There is a decent motel about a block away on highway 1 that’s pretty inexpensive. I spent the night there.

HMB Brewing is a small bar and not really a meet market. It caters to tourists and the occasional yuppie surfer. Of course, I’m just saying that to make myself feel better. Nothing like a few good crash and burns to keep me humble.

(not so) Extreme Makeover - home edition

OK, I'm pissed at Maurizio for outing me on the World-Wide-Web, but I'll get over it. I can't stay mad at him, but I'm moderating my comments now - sorry for the inconvenience (to my remaining 2 readers).

On Sunday he came over to my humble abode to do a makeover on my room (continuation of the big post break-up makeover). It's pretty amazing, given what he had to work with. Especially considering that I live in a rental house and we can't paint or wall-paper anything.

It started with a new bed. Maurizio wanted to go with the Somma bed - probably due to the phallic nature of it's installation, but I just couldn't - I would be thinking of Lynn every night. We went with an ordinary queen sized bed. The headboard is a cheap but passable imitation of Italian lacquer with a mirror on it - tasteful, not tacky. Maurizio originally suggested an animal skin print for the bed spread (I'm pretty sure he wasn't serious). We got a blue patterned print. I got matching black lacquered nightstands, and put oriental lamps on them.

What's really impressive is the treatment of the walls. We went to Home Depot and got 1/4" sheets of plywood. We had them cut into 2 foot strips. Maurizio put a thin layer of foam on these and, well, I guess "upholstered" is the best description, them with a heavy blue/gray patterned material. He nailed these to the walls (oh, well, there goes the security deposit). Although it sounds really weird, the effect is quite striking. We did this to 2 of the walls. Now I live in a padded room. Given my state of mind, this is quite appropriate.

He got me a small tree and put an accent light on it, and two posters that are Renior reproductions of semi-nude women, almost art deco-style prints - kind of reminiscent of Nagel - in tones that matched the room.

The place looks great. Now all I need is someone to bring home to it.

Queer Eye for the Computer Guy

“You need a makeover” Maurizio said.

“A makeover?” I asked.

“Yes! Some new clothes, a haircut, a facial, a manicure. Improve the outer man. This is going to make you feel great. Let’s go shopping.”

“OK, but I draw the line at getting anything waxed.”

“No way. We’re going to get you a full Brazilian.” I thought that was for girls,. What do I know?

“Really, Maurizio, retail therapy is not my thing.”

“Come on. You need new clothes. You definitely need a new haircut – that mop probably worked when you were in high school in the early 90’s but this is the new millennium.”

With that, my lunch date with Maurizio turned into a day of hooky and shopping. I called Wayne (new boss man) and let him know I would be out for the day. I finished the project he gave me – and I think he was impressed with how fast I got it done. I haven’t been sleeping, so I’ve been able to put the late night hours in without any problem. If I don’t work I just think of Lynn, which is bad. Anyway, Wayne was cool with me being out.

Maurizio and I went up to San Francisco and went to more trendy shops than I knew existed. I blew several thousand dollars on clothes. Maurizio has pretty good taste and lot of it looked really good on me, if I don’t say so myself. There were several pieces that are in for alterations, but I did get clothes for Saturday night )dinner party at Kristen's)

We went to a hair salon and Maurizio introduced me to “Ricardo”. Who was totally flaming. What did you expect? This is a hairdresser in San Francisco. “He’s not really ‘Ricardo”, is he?” I asked Maurizio.

“No he’s Richard.”

“But I make a hell of a lot more in tips if I am flaming ‘Ricardo’” said Ricardo dropping the gay act for a moment. I was left wondering which persona was real.

“So what are we doing today?” He asked.

“The full heartbreak.” Maurizio said. I guess I’m not the first.

“Oh, nooo” said Ricardo, rubbing my shoulder sympathetically. “What happened?”

“Disaster. He was left for another man” Maurizio said darkly. Ricardo nodded knowingly. He called over an assistant who set to work giving me a manicure. Rosemary scented hot towels were produced. I was shaved and exfoliated and given several other treatments – which actually were quite nice. I had to admit, this was a lot more soothing than I was expecting. As Ricardo was working on my face, he said “You’re not getting enough sleep. These bags under your eyes. You need to take care of yourself or you are going to look old before your time. And the texture here – been hitting the sauce pretty hard, have we?”

“Uh, yeah – it’s been a tough couple of weeks.”

“Well it’s his loss.” I didn’t bother to correct him – on either count. “Him” was a “her” and in the grand scheme of things - I don’t think she lost – I did. “We are going to make you look just fabulous” Ricardo said, practically licking his lips. He proceeded to work on my face.

“Now, what are we going to do with the hair?” Ricardo asked. “Is this your natural color?”

“Uh, yeah”

“It’s sooo beautiful. Like honey. Just gorgeous red highlights.”

I actually hate that. I am a strawberry blond – but if I stay out in the sun enough it gets naturally bleached out. I have been indoors too much lately.

“I think we need something close cropped” said Maurizio “I’m thinking Matt Damon in the Bourne Identity.”

“No.” Ricardo disagreed. “I can’t take that much off of him. With hair like this it would be a crime. I’ll make it work,”

Ricardo set to work, and took more hair off then he left. He preened and stroked my hair and massaged my scalp. He started asking me personal questions. OK now I know which persona is real. Maurizio stopped him. “He got dumped by his girlfriend”.

At this, Ricardo recoiled. “No. What a waste.” But he continued to massage my scalp.

Once he was done cutting, he added highlights – and he did a good job. It looked like it used to in the summers in Hawaii, very natural. I’ve never had my hair dyed before. I’ve never had a manicure before.

Leaving the salon, I caught myself in the mirror and I did look good. Maurizio was right. This did make me feel good.

Maurizio and I went back to my house. He decided to make-over my bedroom as well. “What a disaster. You still have boxes. Nothing says ‘I’m not ready for a long term relationship’ than boxes already packed – or not unpacked. These have to go. You have a twin bad!” He yelled at me. “How can you ever bring a girl in here? We are ordering you a waterbed first thing tomorrow. And a computer on the floor? What is the bedroom for? Sex. Move that thing into the den or something. I am going to get you some art for these walls. Hmmm, maybe Nagel. That would work in here. And a plant. Nothing says ‘sensitive guy of the new millennium’ like a live plant.”

“No ferns” I protested. Was that wrong?

“OK, but, you need something.” He said rolling his eyes. “The only other thing you need to do is sell that truck. Don’t get me started on that. Why did you buy it?”

Maurizio is coming over on Sunday and we are going to clean up the bedroom.

Drunk and Kissin' a Dog

You must be one hurtin’ puppy” Maurizio said with genuine empathy in his voice. At least somebody loves me.

We were at HMB (Half Moon Bay Brewery). It was dark and cold outside. It’s Monday, so there is no live music. We are at a table inside. I was drinking the pale ale, Maurizio the porter. I had finished telling Maurizio the story of the past month or so. Maurizio took a long swig of beer. We’re just having beer. Glen, the chief barkeep is here tonight. It’s slow, so he listens in and comments now and then. Like any good bar owner, he keeps our glasses full and acts like he cares about my troubles. I'm guessing hes heard his share of heartbreak stories.

“I hate Tim.” I said bitterly.

“Why?” Maurizio asked. “He didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.”

“Huh?”

“In fact, you did exactly what he did.”

“Well, not really.”

“Rich, you’re just justifying this to yourself. You would have done exactly what he did.”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“What did Tim do to you?”

“He took the love of my life.”

“How?”

“He slept with her.”

“As I recall, you did the same thing.”

“What?” Now he was really starting to make me mad.

“Weren’t you putting the moves on Lynn while she was with Jim?”

“It was over between them.”

“Well, you were getting a little tonsil action around Christmas. That was well before they broke up. And correct me if I’m wrong here, but you were sleeping with her while she was still living with Jim.” I was getting mad at him. Mostly because I knew he was right. This was karma. I did it to Jim. Tim did it to me. The only thing that could make this right was for someone to do it to Tim.

“Think about it from Tim’s perspective. He starts working with a new sexy girl. He asked her out to dinner. She says OK. She invites him back to her place for a cup of coffee after dinner. One thing leads to another. Next thing you know, love conquers all.” He paused – looking a little bored and irritated. “You’re not mad at Tim. And I think you know this.”

“Yeah, but I love Lynn. I can’t blame her.”

“Give it time, buddy. I’m going to give you some advice. You’re probably not going to take it. You just went through the worst kind of break-up. You got dumped during the exciting young love phase of the relationship. She dealt you one serious ration of hurtin’. You need to work though the seven stages of grief. Shock, denial, anger, drinking, more drinking, and I forget what else.”

“You know, she didn’t even try to hide it from me”

“Is that worse?”

“I think it is. Think about it. When someone hides it, at least they don’t want to hurt you. She didn’t even care if I was hurt or not. She didn’t care if I stayed or not. It was truly the opposite of love. When someone breaks up because they are angry at least they still care, there are still feelings. She had nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. Sure, some folks hide it because they don’t want to hurt their partner. For others, they know the cheating will hurt their partner, and they are afraid of facing the anger that comes from that. They’re cowards. Some really want to be out of the relationship, but they are too weak to end it. They move on anyway. They are real cowards, the biggest kind of jerks. Lynn was honest with you. Give her some credit for that. That had to be hard.”

“But why didn’t she care? How is it that she let me go so easily?”

“Rich, one day this will all be in perspective. You need to give it some time. I think it was hard for her to do this – harder than you think. Don’t get me wrong, it is a lot harder on you. But this wasn’t easy on her either.”

“You know, the funny thing is if I didn’t care about her, I could have shared her. Here’s this hot babe who could be an underwear model and I get to have sex with her 3 nights a week, and I don’t have to take out the trash or ‘relate’ to her or anything. When I get tired of her I just walk away, no guilt, no drama. What guy wouldn’t want that?”

“Hell, I’d be up for that. She’s not my type, but – you know - with the right guy that would be awesome.”

“So why couldn’t I do it?”

“You were in love.” He looked at me with a sad smile, “you are in love.”

“If only I had James Bond’s confidence.”

“I think she needs this now. You played this the best you could.”

“No. She said if I had just moved in she would have been mine.”

“Yeah, I read your blog. I’m not so sure. Things would have been different.”

“Then why would she say that? To torture me?”

“Rich, you gotta move on. She’s hurting, too. Yes, she’s being a selfish bitch, but haven’t you been selfish from time to time? We all have.”

“Intellectually, I know that noting has significantly changed from last month. In January she was sleeping with Jim – and I didn’t have her. Today, she is sleeping with Tim – and I don’t have her. The only thing that changed was the guy she’s with. Just one stinkin’ letter. Intellectually, I know that Tim didn’t do anything to me. It was her that I should be mad at. Emotionally, it’s a whole different story.”

“It’s not an intellectual exercise. It’s pointless to look at it that way.”

“You know, it’s not that she slept with him. She has a certain zest for life. I know this.”

“That’s part of why you fell for her.”

“And it’s not that she’s gonna sleep with him again. It’s that I’m losing her. But the part that really hurts so much is how she can so casually dismiss me.” I wiped my eye, holding back a tear. “Have you ever been dumped like this? I mean, right in the beginning when it is still fresh and new and wonderful?”

“Yeah. A long time ago.”

“You got over it?”

“No. Not really. I still carry the scars – it changes you. You never really get over something like this. It’s like your first love – you’ll remember it forever. Both the good and the bad - mostly the good. But you get past it. The pain will fade”

“Will I ever be the same?”

“No. But you’ll survive. And you’ll grow. And don’t ever do it to anyone else. And if you're smart, you'll learn from this. You'll be able to avoid this next time it comes at you.”

“What was the advice you were going to give me?”

“Give it a year. Don’t see Lynn - don't call her, don't e-mail her, don't text her. Don’t see other girls. Throw yourself into your work. Get a hobby. Get a dog. Anything. Don’t take a lover for a while. It will be bad for you and bad for her.”

“I can’t go on without Lynn as my friend.”

“Yeah, Rich, you really can. At the moment, she's not much of a friend. There’s an old movie – I can’t remember the title – but this old guy, I think it was Eddie Albert, is giving some advice to a kid, I seem to remember Gary Busey. Anyway, the kid is having problems with his lover. And the old guy is giving him some advice. He says ‘you can have a dog for a friend, and you can have whiskey for a friend, but when you have a woman for a friend – you are going to end up drunk and kissin’ your dog.’"

"Girls make wonderful friends” I protested.

"Yeah, they do. But like I said, she's not much of a friend now"

I Tried

(For new readers, please read this post first - or this won't make any sense at all)

Ring, Ring.

Waitress: "Hello?"

Rich: "Hi, um, I'm not sure if you remember, but last week a guy at the bar bribed you to play , uh, grab-ass with his friend..." (she cuts me off and doesn't let me explain that I'm not Maurizio, but I'm the friend)

W: "Oh, yeah, of course I remember you. Hey thanks for calling. I wasn't sure you would. "

OK, she thinks I'm Maurizio (I'm pretty sure) but what the heck let's go for it.

R: "Great, Yeah, Hey I'm glad you remember me. I was wondering if you'd like to meet me for a cup of coffee or something?"

W: "Sure." (Damn that Maurizio... I never get dates this easy) "That was really funny. I'll never forget the look on your friend's face." (she giggles) "He was so shocked."

R: (I better 'fess up now) "Oh, yeah, well, um, I'm, um, the friend, actually. I'm not Maurizio. I'm the guy with the shocked look on his face."

W: "Oh"

(Awkward silence)

R: "Are you still interested in getting together?"

W: "Um, uh, Yeah, sure." (pause, she's lying - but being polite) "Can Maurizio come, too?" (Hmmm, let's make it a 3-some)

R: "No" (whoops, that's the wrong thing to say - but I want you for myself) "I mean yes - yes, sure. Um, but there is something you should know..."

W: "What's that?"

R: "He's gay. He's a really great guy. He's a lot of fun to hang out with. But he's gay."

W: "Oh, shit. Why are all the good ones gay? I need to get out of this city."

(and what am I? Chopped liver?)

W: "You're not gay, are you?"

R: "Oh, no, no... We're just friends. I like women."

(more awkward silence)'

R: "You really don't want to see me, do you?"

W: "Well..."

R: "Hey, I understand."

W: "That Maurizio is really cute."

R: "Yeah, he gets that a lot."

W: "Are you sure he's..."

R: "Yeah. He really is gay. I mean really."

W: "That's too bad"

R: "I tell you what, we'll stop by the bar again. Me and Maurizio. We'll be sure and get your table. What days do you work?"

She told me when she's working. I told her when to expect us.

Looks like me and Maurizio need to go drinking again. We have a date with a Waitress.

Hangover

I woke at 4:55 a.m. to the alarm and rolled over in pain. I stumbled to the bathroom in the dark and drank about a quart and a half of water and splashed my face. I swallowed 3 or 4 aspirin. I could still feel the effects of all that scotch.

I phoned into the Sanjay (co-worker in India) using the company phone card. Sanjay was unhappy with me that I wasn’t on video – this would get back to Dave (the boss) fast. Crap. I barely participated in the call – I didn’t have any notes with me and I was doing everything from memory, which was a bit fuzzy. Some grunts and “mmmhm”s at various places seemed to do the trick. I begged off the call as soon as I could.

It was 5:45 and still dark and wet outside. I set the alarm for 9:00 and climbed back into bed and fell instantly to sleep.

At 9:00 I awoke in much better spirits – but still feeling a mean hangover. The message light on the phone was blinking. I called down to see what it was. Maurizio was the only person that knew I was here. It turns out that there was a room service breakfast ordered for me. They brought it up quickly. It was quite good – Maurizio had made some good selections. He really knows how to take care of people.

I went downstairs checked out. I intended to pay for my room and breakfast, but Maurizio had already paid for everything. I argued with the lady at the front desk, but Maurizio had set things up so that I could not pay myself – what a nice guy. I walked back to where my car was parked – in the visitor’s lot for Maurizio’s apartment. There was no sign of him so I drove home.

I got into work a bit before 11 and Dave called me into a conference room as soon as he saw me. He spent about 15 minutes chewing my ass off for missing the video conference. I gave feeble excuses. I could not win this one. The best I could do was to try to look contrite and promise that it would not happen again. If there is a layoff anytime soon I just bumped myself to the top of the list (if I wasn’t already there) Pretty damn irresponsible of me.

I was sitting in my cube trying to clear my head.

“You look like shit.” I heard Lynn say

“Yeah, and don’t yell.” I walked over to the whiteboard and wrote “Morning meeting safety tips” across the top. Beneath this I wrote, “ 1) Keep it under 5 scotches.”

“I missed my morning meeting with Sanjay. Dave just chewed my ass off.”

She looked down. “You still have a little left.” And she laughed – an old joke from a movie.

“I was out drinking with Maurizio. He is one hurtin’ puppy.”

“I bet he is this morning.”

“Yeah, well. It was good scotch and he was buying. He is with his new honey, but there’s trouble in paradise. I’ll give you the dirt tomorrow night.”

Dinner is at Lynn’s house tomorrow night. Jim is out of town on a business trip.

I’m excited and nervous at what might (or might not) happen. She’s got me damn confused. I’d really like to be with her, but she’s made no indication that she’s leaving Jim. I don’t want to be “the other guy” - I want to be "the guy". Since “the kiss” she’s been incredibly careful to show absolutely no signs of affection toward me in front of anyone else. WTF – I’ll never understand women.

Drinking with Maurizio

“So what’s the problem?” I asked. We were at the bar at the top of the Marriott hotel in San Francisco - appropriately called "The View". It’s close to Maurizio’s apartment, and I don’t think he’ll be in any shape to drive tonight. It’s not where I would have picked to drown some sorrows; this is more of a businessman’s expense report place. But it is Maurizio’s treat so I am game.

Maurizio was staring out the window. There was a slow and steady mist falling on the huge glass panes that made up the windows of the atrium like bar. This place is very Gotham city. Lots of art deco, dimly lit and furnished with dark wood and leather. It is easy to imagine Bruce Wayne brooding in here – especially tonight with the gray swirling fog outside.

Maurizio took a deep swallow of his scotch and signed. “I’m going to lose him.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em, that’s what you always said. What’s different this time?”

“I think I’m in love. I mean really in love”

“That is obvious.”

“Love sucks. Did you ever need to hear it?” he asked, turning to face me. “I mean, really need to hear it?”

“No, honestly.” I paused. “There was a girl in college that needed to hear it from me, and I couldn’t lead her on. It ended badly.” I thought back to my days in the dorms and Ira (perhaps more on that later – she was wonderful and it is quite a story.) “You’ve not asked him to say ‘I love you’, have you?”

“No, no” he cleared his throat. “No. Pussy, football!” (our inside joke) he glared at the couple at the next table who were clearly engrossed in his story, “are you getting everything OK?” They turned away, embarrassed. The bar is quiet, like a library – just some gentle background chatter and soft music. It is a good place for a conversation. Perhaps this was a good place to drown your sorrows.

“Is this just because you can’t have him? Is he playing hard to get?”

“No” he said again, with less enthusiasm.

“You’ve slept with him, right?” I had just realized that he had not given me details. Maurizio is the kind of guy that shares a bit too much (TMI!!)– with me anyway.

“Yeah, but, you know, it’s not the sex. I mean, the sex is great and all, but he’s so casual about it.”

“Um, and you aren’t? You’re the king of casual sex. I thought the whole gay thing was about casual sex.”

“No, the gay thing is about what turns me on.” He said, getting cross. He ordered another round of double scotches for both of us.

“Sorry, but you’ve always been so casual in your relationships. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but you seem to have some guys for just a few weeks. Sex is grand and you move on the next one.” I finished the last of my scotch, the next one was on the way. “Seriously, I really admired, or maybe envied, that about you. You can get a new guy in a weekend if you want. I go for months, years, waiting for the girl to show up.”

“Rich, you don’t have to wait. You’re just a big chicken. And you’re looking for the epic romance where you kiss and roll in the waves like in that movie. If you want a roll in the hay you can have it, just ask.” He looked at me and paused. “I mean, take our waitress." he went on "I give you a 50/50 chance, if you would just ask her.”

“I kissed Lynn” I said out of the blue.

Maurizio’s eyes widened. “You horn dog, you. Alright. It’s about time!” He gave me a big smile, perhaps his first for the night, and patted me on the back. (Hmmm, not reading my blog, huh?) “I assume that you mean a serious slobbery wet swapping spit kind of kiss, right?” he asked. Maurizio was back, at least for the moment.

“Yeah, uh, spit swapping.” He made this really sweet thing between Lynn and me seem so gross.

He slapped me on the back again. “Way to go. Isn’t Jim going to be pissed about this?”

“Why do you think she is with him?”

“I’m guessing that he turns her on.”

“But he’s kind of a jerk.”

“Yeah, well, he is kind of a jerk. But, being a turn on and being a jerk aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, being a huge turn-on can turn some people into jerks. And while you see jerk, she may see dominance and assertiveness – I hear women can find that attractive. A lot of people find jerkiness a turn-off, but maybe his sex appeal is good enough to overcome that. You know her better than I do, but Lynn doesn’t seem to me to be the type that would find jerkiness all that bad.”

“But Jim is old, bald, and fat. And he likes country music and wears cowboy boots. Where’s the turn-on?” I asked this with perhaps a bit too much desperation.

“Rich,” Maurizio looked exasperated. “There is no accounting for taste. Look at you, you find tits and pussies to be attractive. I can’t understand that for the life of me. Some guys like steak, some guys like chicken. She found something in him that excites her. She had to, otherwise she wouldn’t put up with him.”

“I guess” I said dejectedly.

“It’s the sex, the chemistry, the fireworks – call it what you like – but when you find it it’s wonderful. It’s the sizzle that makes life worth living. Who knows, maybe he has a 12 inch cock, or can lick his eyebrows. If he makes her happy it’s a good thing – that is, unless you want to make her happy.” He sighed. “This probably won’t end well. When did this slobbery kiss happen?”

“It was Christmas Eve. And nothings happened since.”

“Have you tried anything since?”

“Well, no. Not really.”

“What do you expect her to do, climb under your desk and blow you? Give her a reason to do something. Grab life by the balls. I can’t believe you are such a wuss.”

“I thought we were here to cheer you up, not bring me down.”

“Wait here.” He walked over to our waitress who was standing by the bar and talked closely to her for a while. She was smiling - she’ll be disappointed I thought. He returned with our scotches and a smile. He lifted his glass and said “To friendship” and clicked my glass. “Rich,” he said “I can never stay down when you are around. I love you.” He downed a hearty swallow. He had never said that to me before. Hmmm.

I truly had gotten him out of his funk. We chatted amiably through two more double scotches. He led me up to the bar on the pretense of a taste of a 30 year old armagnac that the bartender had for “friends of the bar” only. We stood there for a while and chatted with the barkeep. The armagnac was really good. The bar tab for tonight was going to cost us a fortune.

I felt slight pressure and an up and down motion on the left side of my rear end. Someone was playing grab-ass, and they were using my ass. Maurizio was on my right. I looked at him. He was holding a brandy snifter in his left hand – it wasn’t Maurizio. I shouldn’t have suspected him. I turned to my left – and saw our waitress smiling at me. She gave me a brief squeeze and turned away.

Maurizio and the bartender laughed.

“All you need to do is ask.” Maurizio chided me. He may be right.

Maurizio settled up – I protested and offered to pay my share. Maurizio refused.

We stumbled down to the street and hailed a cab – even though Maurizio’s apartment was only about 6 blocks away. I had left my truck at his apartment. Before we got in he asked me if I was OK to drive. I said “Of course not.” I had lost count, but I think I had 6 (or was it 8?) scotches and the brandy.

“Rich, I can’t have you in my house tonight.”

“Why?”

“Rich, I can’t, not tonight. Just… I can’t.” He ran back inside the Marriott. I followed. He was at the front desk, and handed the desk clerk a credit card.

“What?” I asked.

The lady handed him some papers and said “Room 2108”.

Maurizio handed me the key, and said “Stay here tonight.” He sniffed and looked down at the floor. He hugged me and said “Get yourself a room service breakfast.” And then he smiled at me. “And enjoy it with that waitress, if your dick still works. Here's her number" he handed me a card with her number written on it (damn Maurizio, how does he do that?). He turned and walked out briskly.

I went up stairs and sat on the bed in the dark and stared at the rain falling on the window. I thought about Sarah, and Lynn, and Jim, and Maurizio. And then I remembered – I have a 5:00 a.m. video conference. Normally on Tuesday night I would not have gone drinking, but Maurizio needed me.

I couldn’t afford to miss this meeting – we skipped it last week because of the holidays. I didn’t want to give Dave any more ammunition. But, crap, it was 1 a.m. I’d still be drunk before I needed to drive down to Sunnyvale. I decided to phone it in, and set the alarm for 4:55.

Bittersweet

I flew up highway 280 into San Francisco. Traffic was light. Finding parking around Union square is always a bit dicey near the holidays, but I found a garage quickly. It was expensive, but what the heck, I was getting a free dinner at Postrio – so no problem.

The city was cold and there was a slight drizzle, but it was not foggy. I walked over to the main Brooks Brothers store and found Maurizio being fitted for a very conservative classic blue blazer. It actually looked good on him. But, then, even a burlap sack would look good on Maurizio. He's just one of those guys.

“Hey, Rich!” he called when he saw me in the mirror.

“So how was Tahoe?” I asked. “Give me details.” I didn’t really want details – but Maurizio liked being asked, and he’ll probably give them anyway.

He signed, “You know, when you plan for something and work hard for it, and get all excited in the process, and get yourself all worked up?”

“Yeah…”

He sighed and shook his head. “Well, it just wasn’t there. I don’t know, the magic, it just wasn’t what I was expecting.” He turned his head to look at me. The tailor, fiddling with some pins, got annoyed and waited for Maurizio to straighten up. “We skied.”

“Ouch, I though you were planning to forget your bindings?”

“I did. We rented.”

“Ooooh, that hurts. So I’m confused here. You’re in love, we’re dining at ‘money is no object’ Postrio, so I can meet the guy. And there’s no magic.” The tailor realized that we are talking about a guy, and smiles slightly.

“No, it’s not like that. I am in love. I just don’t think he is.”

“That’s why were here isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. He checked the sleeves in the mirror.

“Why not just get the next one that comes along, they always find you.” The tailor’s eyes widened as he paused in his pinning. Maurizio shook his head.

“This guy must be really special.” I said.

______________________________________________________________

Dinner at Postrio was wonderful. The house smoked salmon is awesome. I had a seared ahi with coconut curry sauce. I need to make more money. I could live like this everyday. We drank 2 bottles of a really good Napa Cab. Sorry, but I didn’t recognize the label, I don’t remember the winery.

As for Stuart, I didn’t see it. Not that I always can with Maurizio. But most of his boyfriends are just genuinely attractive people. You can just look at them and say, “Yeah, I get it.” Not this time. He was quite personable and charming. He just didn’t strike me as something really special.

This may be a first. I think Maurizio’s suffering from unrequited love. Poor guy.

Another Man-date...

...and it's a threesome.

I got a call from Maurizio (formerly Joe) today. “Rich, come have dinner with me and Stuart. We’re going to Postiro”

I do not need to be asked twice to dine at Postrio “I’m there” I replied quickly. “What’s the occasion?” I asked.

“I’m in love, I don’t need an occasion. Oh, and can you meet me early at Brooks Brothers on Post street?”

“Brooks Brothers? Why?”

“Stuart is a very MBA button down type, I need some new clothes. I don’t have anything ‘Brooks Brothers’-ish. Is that a word?”

“OK, now you’re starting to sound gay”

“Oh, Shut up. I’m going to get some new clothes, which my partner will find attractive, so I will get more sex. It’s pretty simple. It’s not like is an engagement ring or anything.”

“Can you get married now? Damn shame about that prop-8. What time should we meet?”

“Dinner’s at 8. I’ll be at Brooks Brothers at about 6 – you can meet me there.”

“A little guy talk before dinner?”

“Yeah, man stuff” he said in an extra deep voice “Football and pussies.”

We laughed.

Dinner with Maurizio

I arrived at the Brewpub a bit before 7:00. I sat outside in front of a gas fire-pit, near one of the heat lamps they have set out to ward off the chill from the Pacific. I chatted with one of the waitresses who recognized me as a regular and waved to the bartender. There would be live music inside later and it can be a bit loud. I wanted to hear Maurizio’s stories so I sat outside.

I got myself an IPA, which is my favorite of their regular lineup of beers. I ordered some calamari and the fresh Ahi poke as starters. I hate mollusks and won’t eat them, but Maurizio can’t get enough of the HMB calamari. I’ve never understood why folks insist on eating stuff that tastes and chews like bicycle tires.

Maurizio snuck up behind me. "Hey Rich!" he roared. "How’s it going? It’s been too long."

"Hey" I answered, stood up to shake his hand. He gave me a big bear hug. I gave him the armagnac. "Merry Christmas".

He handed me a bottle wrapped in a bag. He sat down next to me and immediately pointed out an attractive couple near the end of the bar. She was a very big haired blonde – I’ve never been attracted to blondes, but she was – I’ll have to admit – quite attractive. Her date was a well dressed heavy set guy, more muscle than fat.

"What are you looking at the eye candy for?" I asked "I though you had a new love."

"I do. I love the start of a new affair. You always get dressed up for each other, always doing nice things. You hold in your farts."

"You’re such a romantic."

"You know what I mean. There’s that sizzle when you see each other, the sexual tension – before you start to take each other for granted. I’m hooked on it." He was enthused.

"And then it ends." I said glumly.

"You know how to bring down a party." Our appetizers arrived. He dug into his calamari. The poke was great. The food here isn't all that great, but there something about the atmosphere and the friends that makes it seem so tasty. It's hard to get good poke outside of Hawaii, and these guys do a pretty good job.

"I remember when I started dating Sarah. She used to come over to my apartment and we would make out on the couch. Sometimes for hours – not even have sex, just kiss passionately until the sun started to come up. The next day I could smell her on my shirt and on the sofa. Not just her perfume, but her. It was so wonderful" I paused. "Now sometimes I get a faint smell of something like that. It takes me back. I get an incredible emptiness inside. I could just cry."

"That…" Maurizio paused to take a sip of beer. "That," he started again in an accusing tone "is the gayest thing you have ever said to me."

And Maurizio should know. As he is the gayest person I know. Actually, that’s not fair. He is not flaming – you can’t tell by talking with him or watching him what his preferences are in the bedroom. But he doesn’t hide it.

Maurizio went on to tell me about his new lover, Stuart. He was 23 and getting his MBA from Golden Gate University. A hardbody – all Maurizio's lovers are. Maurizio went on about his new beau for all through dinner and then some. He is truly infatuated, and happy.

Maurizio has the body of a Greek god, and a strong chiseled face. Some guys get all the luck. And it’s wasted on him. He gets phone numbers from girls all the time. I’m serious, they just walk up to him and hand ‘em over. That has never happened to me.

He is taking Stuart up to Allison’s cabin, a small cozy spot with a view of lake Tahoe on the Nevada side of the border. I was there with Sarah last year and it is incredibly romantic. Maurizio will have a great time.

Sonya Jason was playing yesterday. After dinner Maurizio and I went inside to listen for a while. She's pretty good.