Messy

“Man, I made a mess of things.” I was sharing a Grey Goose Martini with Kristen. We were at her favorite watering hole in San Jose. We had just dropped off the kayak that unmitigated beast had left behind at the offices of an organization that holds an annual auction to raise money for Doctors without borders. It is a charity medical group that sends doctors to trouble spots around the world. Kristen decided that this would be the best use of the boat. She had offered it to me, but I declined as it was too generous a gift. As we dropped it off I thought that I might have overreacted (damn, that was a nice boat). It is clear that Kristen has (and had) no designs on me. She is focused on her career and working out. She is not going after guys for a while. She was unceremoniously dumped by her lover, and she is taking time to recover. She has encouraged me to do the same – but I am dumb. So I am out dating again – and this is what I had made a mess of.

I was regaling her with the comically bad date that I recently had with Heidi. “So I go in the house to pick up the picnic basket. She follows me in. I notice that the message light on the phone is on – so I hit the button to see who called. It’s Sarah.”

“Oh no, what does she say.”

“Well, she just moved up to Seattle. I had sent her a house warming gift and she was calling to say thank you. So she says ‘Thanks for the gift, I really love it, blah blah blah, can’t wait to see you again.’ In this really syrupy sweet voice – you know, very girlfriend like. I just could have died. I mean, I wasn't expecting anything like that.”

“What did Heidi do?”

“First the silent treatment. Then the inquisition. Oh, wait, it gets better. So I didn’t notice it, but there was a bra on the sofa. I guess Amanda and Jason were playing on the sofa the night before and they left a trail of underwear to the bedroom. Anyway, Heidi saw it.”

“No.” Kristen held her hand over her mouth and giggled slightly.

“And,” I take a sip of my martini.

“There’s more? Aaaah.” She laughed even harder.

“Oh yes, she sees Amanda’s mail on the counter, so she thinks I’m living with a woman. Women’s underwear all over the house – old girlfriends calling up.”

Kristen enjoyed a good belly laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry to laugh. Is she still talking to you?”

“Well, I hope so. It was a tense lunch.” We both laughed. “I can’t believe so many things went wrong all at the same time.”

“Well, on the plus side, it sounds like she’s mad. That probably means she cares. You’re lucky. If she didn’t care she wouldn’t be mad, she’d just leave.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But you know, I don’t feel good about it. The fact that she cares, I mean. I don’t know why.”

“You’re still in love. And I’m not sure with whom. Rich, seriously, you shouldn’t get involved with her. This is going to be bad. Have you slept with her yet?” Kristen asked.

For a second, I though, it was none of her business – but I pressed on anyway. “No, I haven't even made it to first base yet. I made a clumsy grab at her butt once, which she rebuffed. Haven’t made a move since - and neither has she.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“Hey, it was a sincere, heartfelt fondle of her posterior. Actually more of a caress than a fondle. It was very tasteful and loving.”

“I’m sure it was…” she paused for comic effect “…just some grab-ass.” We both laughed. Kristen can be as raunchy as any of the guy drinking buddies I’ve had. “Rich, you need some time to sort things out. You’re going to hurt her, and then you’re going to feel like shit. I’m telling you, ease yourself out of it now.”

“Shit, you’re probably right.” I drained the remainder of my martini.

E-mail

Sent: Sat 5/31/2009 8:23 P.M.

From: Paul (paulxxxxxxxx@gmail.com)

To: Rich (richardwindsurfer@gmail.com)

Subject: Moved to Seattle

Rich,

I’ve moved to Seattle. Sorry I had to leave without saying anything. Things really weren’t working out with Kristen.

Thanks for the paddling lessons, and everything else. If you ever get up here give me a call, it’d be great to see you again and there’s a lot of great paddling in the area. My new cell is (xxx) xxx-xxxx.

- Paul

Missing in Action

On Saturday Paul and I were going to go paddling. It was looking like a really nice day – probably too hot for paddling. I started out early (well, early for Paul), to take advantage of the tides and keep things cool. I loaded up the truck at 8 a.m. with the drysuit, paddles, and boat. I took a thermos of French roast, some high calorie snacks, and a lunch. I slathered myself with SPF 30 and headed out.

I got to Kristen’s house at about 8:30. Paul was usually in the garage waiting for me, but today there was no sign of him. Now that I thought of it, Paul didn’t call the night before. He usually confirms the weather and tides a day before we go out. I just assumed that with the nice weather forecast there was no need to check.

I pulled into the driveway, then walked up to the door and knocked. Kristen opened the door and said curtly “Paul can’t come out and play today.” There was an anger in her voice that I hadn’t heard before. I was thinking of a cute response. What came to mind first was “has he been bad, are you going to spank him?” I immediately nixed it as inappropriate for someone I work with, and way too flirty. Before I could say anything, the door was slammed on my face. Well, I guess she wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

All dressed up with no where to go, I went down to Santa Cruz anyway. I warmed up in the yacht harbor, and then against my better judgment paddled out into Monterrey Bay solo. It was fairly calm and a nice day – the winds were light so I figured I’d be OK. I saw a couple of sea otters in a kelp bed – I wish I had had my camera with me.

After paddling for almost 3 hours I grabbed a couple of slices of pizza and a beer at the beachfront eatery near the crow’s nest. The pizza there is pretty bad, but I had already consumed all my snacks and my lunch. Paddling does have a significant calorie burn to it (300 – 500 calories an hour, I paddle fast so I’m probably at the upper end of the range). It’s probably part of the reason I have dropped so many pounds lately. But for the first time in a while I was really hungry for some high calorie/high fat food. When you’re hungry like that, even bad beach pizza is immensely satisfying.

It was about 3 in the afternoon and the sun was out and I was sitting at one of those cheap plastic tables outside of the pizza place. I was finishing my beer and watching the pretty girls play volleyball on the beach. I tried to call Paul on his cell phone and just got his voice mail. I called my buddy Steve and filled him in on what he was missing – turns out it was a beautiful day in the Pacific Northwest as well. He was out running near Green Lake enjoying the great outdoors as well. I thanked him again for the party. Then gave him a brief play by play of the game in front of me – mostly just to describe the bikinis. He responded with “Ho man, I gotta get down there – no bikinis up here.”

I hung out on the beach until sunset.

I think I’ll start looking for a place in Santa Cruz. The commute will be a bear – but this place is beautiful.

Santa Cruz

Sunday, Paul and I went kayaking in Santa Cruz. It was foggy until about noon, forcing us to stay in the yacht harbor. After the fog lifted, the sky remained gray and slightly overcast. But this is actually good, as the dry top is really hot – especially when you get moving. I don’t think the air temperature got over 55. Paul did pretty well, for a beginner. He did capsize once near the breakers on the way out of the harbor, but was able to right his boat and climb back in. He tried to roll, but the waves were a little high for him. There were gale warnings for the open ocean outside Monterrey bay, so the waves were pretty high, even though the winds were calm near shore.

After a couple of hours of paddling we drove back to his house, where we hosed off the kayaks and gear in the front yard. After everything was cleaned up, I went inside for a shower. Kristen had a bottle of chardonnay chilled and gave us each a glass and we sat in front of the fireplace and talked. It reminded me of when I used to go windsurfing with Jim.

It was late in the afternoon and I offered to make dinner. “You can cook?” Kristen asked incredulously.

“Well,” I said slowly, “I can heat things up.”

“No, let Paul cook.”

“No, I want to. How about Jambalaya?” I asked.

“Aagh. No way. There is no way that you can cook Jambalaya.” Kristen almost yelled at me and then laughed.

I ran down to the Safeway a couple of blocks away and picked up some Italian sausage, shrimp, and chicken breasts, along with some bell peppers, celery, and onions. Paul had the rest of the ingredients. I also got a 12 pack of Mirror Pond – a micro brew from Bend, Oregon. Really good beer, if you can get it in your neighborhood.

I make a pretty mean jambalaya. I was explaining the deglazing process to Paul as Kristen walked in the kitchen. “Oh my god” she exclaimed “two good looking men who know how to deglaze.” Paul kissed her and got her a beer. “This is great beer, Rich” she said.

This was the first time I had cooked anything more challenging than a cup of instant oatmeal since the ugliness. I used to like to cook a lot – in fact it was how I would cheer myself up when I was feeling down. It was nice to cook again – and have someone appreciate the effort.

Kristen loved the Jambalaya. Paul was taking careful notes – unobtrusively – as I cooked. I’m guessing that he will be able to make a pretty good batch on his own. He asked a lot of questions as I was making it. Paul told me more about his trip to Vancouver Island. “So where is your dream trip?” he asked me.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to windsurf the British Virgin Islands.”

“Not paddle them?”

“A paddling trip would be to Puget sound, Vancouver Island, or the coast of Norway. For windsurfing, you want and need a place with warm tradewinds.”

“What about Oregon? The Columbia gorge?”

“Too cold. And the winds are too fierce there. I’m a Hawaii boy.”

“So when are you going to the Virgin Islands?” Kristen asked.

“No plans. You know, the new job and all.”

“Oh, [the CEO] will let you go. Just tell him it’s for windsurfing. He’ll understand.”

“Yeah, right. I was planning a trip with Lynn, but that didn’t pan out.”

“Go anyway.” She said. “Find a girl at the mall and tell her you can make Jambalaya and ask her to go with you.”

“I wish it was that easy.”

“Rich, you won’t get many ‘no’s.”

“It wouldn’t be the trip I want.”

At the end of the night, we had killed the 12 pack and a couple of bottles of wine. I asked for a place to sleep it off and was offered the guest bedroom. It was not made up. I guess Kristen does not get many impromptu overnight visitors. Paul efficiently prepared the room.

I slept pretty well.

Delivery Service

Yesterday, Kristen and I snuck out of work for a long lunch. I drove Kristen up to Oakland and we picked up the kayak that she bought for Paul. You make a lot of friends when you have a truck. The kayak she bought him is really nice. She also bought all accessories to go with it. Spray skirt, paddles, pump, dry suit, dry bags, PFD – everything that Paul will need for his new hobby.

I took the boat and all the gear back to her house and unloaded it in her garage. His new boat weighs only 34 pounds. My kayak is 58 pounds, and 3 feet shorter – heavy, short boats go slower, you need to push more water out of the way. I get a better work-out (yeah, that's one way to look at it).

Neither Paul nor Kristen has a car that can carry a 17 foot long boat - this is going to be a problem for him if he's going to anything with the boat other than stare at it in the garage. He has one of those little nissan Z cars, and she has a convertible. But I agreed to take Paul and his boat down to Santa Cruz tomorrow. I have been paddling solo a lot recently (which is a piss poor idea) - it will be nice to have a paddle buddy for a change.

Save the Leopard

“Oh, please” Kristen was at the door to my cubicle. I had been wearing my new clothes from my recent make-over. Before dropping back to my standard jeans and t-shirts I was transitioning though some medium grungy clothes. I was wearing tan dockers and a long sleeve navy polo. “Those clothes are sooo staid. Pleeease tell me that you have a leopard skin G-string on under those.”

“Actually, I am wearing…”

“Aaah” she interrupted. She has a habit of doing this. “Don’t tell me. I want to preserve the illusion.”

I was going to tell her that I was wearing “a low rise mesh bikini brief” (a line from a Bill Murray movie) but it was probably best not to say anything. I’m embarrassed to say what I was actually wearing.

She sat down and we talked about work stuff for a while (I won’t bore you). It was about 7:30 at night, but the office was buzzing. Long hours are the rule here.

She finished up with the shop talk and said “You look sad”.

I smiled weakly. “Yeah, I recently lost someone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did they.. “ she paused, putting her hand over her mouth, deciding on which euphemism for dead she would use, “pass on?”

“No,” I said almost laughing, “no, nasty break-up. Just heartbroken, that’s all.”

She laughed. “Oh, I don’t mean to make light of it. Were you with her long?”

OK, so here it would sound stupid. Yeah, we were together for 3 weeks and now I’m clinically depressed – I’m psycho! “Uh, I’ve known her since college. We were really close.” That wasn’t technically a lie, but it was misleading.

“Did it just happen?”

“I don’t mind talking about it, but we need to do this over a glass of wine or something.” I was a bit uncomfortable discussing it here at work.

“I know just the place. Let’s go” she said, almost ordering me. We took her Mercedes (top up, it was raining slightly) and went to a wine bar near the office. It was a nice place with a really good selection of wines by the glass. She knew the bartender – we took a table near the bar and she got me a merlot. She had something white.

I started to tell her all about Lynn. After about 15 minutes Paul (her lover) came in. He walked over to Kristen and kissed her. He pulled up a chair close to her, then went to the bartender and got a beer. He hung up Kristen’s coat – which was hanging on the back of her chair. He is incredibly attentive. I know why she calls him her lover. He brought her some crab cakes and then settled in close to her. He seemed completely uninterested in the story of Lynn.

I think Kristen took an instant dislike of Lynn. “Did you ever figure out what she saw in Jim?” she asked me.

“No, but she says she likes older men.” Tim is quite a bit older than her, too – but he is probably shy of 40 by a couple years. “She says they are housebroken – they know not to leave the toilet seat up, they pick up after themselves.”

“Sounds like someone should put a leash on her” Kristen said with some bitterness. I was oddly offended by this - I almost protested.

After we had been there for a couple of hours and had a few glasses of wine and enough appetizers to make a decent dinner Paul started to get restless. “We should go.” Kristen said. Paul grabbed her coat and put it on her. She kissed him and sent him on ahead. “I’ll see you at home in a few minutes” she said to him – almost dismissing him.

“So Rich, can you help me pick-up something large?” Kristen asked when Paul was outside. You make a lot of friends when you have a pickup truck.

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I bought Paul a kayak from a shop up in Oakland.”

“What kind?”

She pulled a piece of paper from her purse and read from it “A ‘Boreal Designs Ellesmere Kevlar’ that’s bullet proof, right? In case someone is shooting at him. ‘Kevlar 17-foot touring kayak’”

“Wow, that’s a great boat." (For you non-kayakers, this is a very high-end boat) A bit much for a beginner – but a really nice kayak. "What's the occasion?” This kind of boat needs to be special ordered.

“Nothing, I just wanted to buy him something nice.”

That was amazing. That she would go out and buy him something like that – well she has the money for it. And then I realized it. And I said it, normally I wouldn't but I had a few glasses of wine in me - “He’s a kept man, isn’t he?” I asked. “You… you.. you have a kept man. In your house. Just like a little pet. You just take him out any time you want and, well…”

She looked down and then smiled up at me though a few strands of hair, looking both sheepish and proud at the same time. She actually batted her eyelashes at me.

“I’m impressed” I said. I think she blushed slightly. “I wish I had that.”

“Which?” She asked “To keep someone or be kept?”

“Either.” To have the resources to keep a woman, or to be so sexy as to be wanted to be kept by someone who has achieved so much would be wonderful, I though.

“Really?” She asked.

“Sure.”

“You could be a kept man?”

I thought about it again for a minute. Frankly, if a woman could keep me in the manner in which I would like to become accustomed (like Paul), then, yes, I would really like it. “Yeah, I could.” I said.

She wrinkled her forehead. “Huh.”

I think I lost a few respect points from her. But I was being honest, and besides – she is the one with a kept man.

Crustaceans

I went to a dinner party at my new friend Kristen's house on Saturday night. Kristen has a nice house in San Jose. It is an older ranch home on a large lot close to the center of town. The place is impeccably furnished and very stylish – well, what else would one expect?

Kristen came to the door and let me in. I handed her the two bottles of a Pinot Grigio that I had brought. A wonderful crisp but slightly fruity wine that I thought would pair well with the Lobster. “Wow” she exclaimed. “You certainly cleaned up well. This is a whole new look for you.”

“Thanks.” I said. I realized that she had not seen me since the makeover.

“Who did your make-over?” She asked. Do I really look that different?

I blushed a bit. “Well, I was reading a copy of GQ this afternoon…”

“Aahh, an engineer that reads GQ, I don’t believe it” she interrupted.

“OK, you caught me. The wardrobe is by Maurizio and the hair by Ricardo of San Francisco.”

“Who are they? Never mind. You look great. I’m impressed that you even know what GQ is.” That’s twice I impressed her. Hmmm. I’m hoping that it’s not that she’s easily impressed.

She introduced me to Paul, her significant other, as her lover. I don’t believe that anyone has ever been introduced to me as a lover before. Then I was introduced to the partners of the other folks.

We started with cocktails, well, flutes of champagne in the living room. She had a fire going in the fireplace.

“So what do you do for fun, Rich?” Kristen asked.

“I’ve been doing a lot of kayaking lately.”

“Yeah, where do you go?” Paul asked, perking up.

“Usually out on the bay during the week. Santa Cruz or Aptos on the weekends.”

“You have a boat, wetsuit and everything?”

“I have a dry-top and wetsuit pants. And yes I have boat – a Necky Sea Kayak.”

“Who do you go out with?”

“Lately, by myself.”

“Isn’t that dangerous. Shouldn’t you have a buddy?”

“Yeah, I should. I’ve been going before work and I don’t know anyone who gets up that early. I try to go just before high tide, that way I get washed up on the beach if I get tired. I keep all the appropriate safety and signaling gear that I need. I keep the cell phone in a dry bag attached to the PFD. There’s pretty good coverage over the whole bay.”

“Paul is going on a kayaking trip this summer on the west coast of Vancouver Island.” Kristen added.

“Oh, wow. I’d love to do that.”

“It’s this organized tour. We’ll be paddling through Calyoquot Sound” Paul said.

“What kind of boat do you have?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t have one, yet.”

“You’ll need to get in shape for an expedition like that.”

“Yeah. I’m going up to Seattle on Monday – spring break - to do some training in Puget Sound with the outfitter that I’m going with.”

“You get spring break?”

It turns out that Paul is an art teacher, part time, at a community college. Nice work if you can get it. The pays probably not that great, but he seems to have solved that problem, too.

Paul showed me his garden out back. He grows herbs, tomatoes, and other vegetables. Just the hardy herbs are in now, and he used some for the dinner. I keep the same kind of garden at my house – but mostly in pots, since I can’t dig up the yard in the rental house. I grow the things that are hard to find at the grocery stores – like good tomatoes, and fresh basil.

Paul and I agreed to go paddling together on the weekends. We can rent him a boat and accessories in Santa Cruz.

Dinner was an exquisite affair. Kristen not only did a great job with the food, but the presentation was stunning as well. Every course came on a different set of plates, each specifically paired to match the food in terms of shape, color, and contrast. The lighting in the dining room was perfect – a dimly lit room with spotlights on the place settings. This was right out of architectural digest. Despite having 2 nerd couples and myself, Kristen kept the conversation lively and engaging all night.

For the main course, we went to the kitchen and picked out our lobsters – which had been freed from their Styrofoam travel crates and were crawling around on the counters amid bits of seaweed fresh from Boston. We dispatched them in one of two huge pots of boiling water on the stove. The lobster was amongst the best that I have had, and the sauces were wonderful.

Unlike one of Greg’s parties, there were no waiters or caterers to help – it was just Kristen and her lover, who was quite supportive and very attentive – but somehow subservient.

I’m quite sure that he makes her happy.