I have been suspiciously quiet for the past two months, I know. I'm not sure if it was out of respect for the guy I was dating or utter embarrassment that I was actually dating him. Yup, you guessed it, Mr. Christmas Money made it to the second round. In fact, he made it to the semi-finals, and I decided in a sudden attack of insanity to take him on a trip to Cabo with me. He most certainly did NOT advance to the finals.
Let's re-wind. he lives a couple of hours away from me, so after our aprés-Christmas rendezvous, we ended up seeing each other about every 2 weeks. It was nice, he was sweet and fun and built like a Greek God. He paid lots of attention to me and was so incredibly grateful for every little thing I did...like say, pay my own rent all by myself, or not have my cell phone cut-off...you know, the little things that your friends just don't think is that impressive anymore. So every couple of weeks he would trek here to see me and we did 32 year-old things. We'd go for dinner, watch hockey games, go to pubs, have copious amounts of Greek God sex, you know, mature, high brow things that I like to do. About 6 weeks into the relationship he said it would mean a lot to him if I came to stay with him for a weekend at his place. Cute right? Sure, but not so much if you knew he lived with 5 other guys. Fuck. But whatever, I'm such a fucking softie I agree to this ridiculous idea on account of 4 of his roommates would be out of town.
I get to his place and we immediately go to his bedroom to re-acquaint ourselves after 2 weeks of missing each other. I'm trying my hardest to ignore the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling as we're in the throws of passion. Is this actually happening? I had those when I was maybe 8. I couldn't stop checking out the room...baseball jerseys pinned to the wall, pennants from random teams everywhere, curtains that weren't long enough to actually block the light, no flat sheet on the bed, was this guy CRAZY!??! Nope, he's 20. But he's sooo hot, what a conundrum. I go to take a shower...the shower smells like, well...it smells like 5 guys share it. It's the quickest shower I've ever managed to take...we're talking Guinness Record shit here. I get out and grab the least damp towel on the broken rack and get the hell outta there. Jesus. The rest of the evening was spent hanging out with his friends, watching people play Xbox, drinking tepid beer and eating out of styrofoam containers in a house that didn't contain a single spoon. There may or may not have been a burping contest that I won...that's not important. The point is, I should have realized then that I was in some kind of time warp and I am way beyond anything that could be considered a rational relationship. But I didn't. Instead I remained smitten with his attentiveness and physical beauty. However, I absolutely couldn't stay in this frat house for the entire weekend. It wasn't the glow-in-the-dark stars, the jerseys, the pennants, or even the moldy towel situation that got to me...the next morning we found a Cadbury Mini Egg in the bed that had become nothing more than chocolate paint and candy shell debris all over our bodies in the night. That was it, I'd hit my breaking point for the level of discomfort I'm willing to put up with. I was in desperate need of my grown-up life, so I had my way with him one more time, kissed him on the cheek, and advised him the next time we saw each other would be a little different. I invited him to Cabo the next weekend...
To Be Continued...
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