This Weeks Stalking Points

Again, with the gross dashboard bullets. Is this my fault or theirs?

Today was a complete waste. I’ve been napping on and off all day with one trip to Kitchenette for lunch. I can’t stop thinking about him, but know that I shouldn’t be. The memory will pass just like any other weekend high does.

In the meantime, I need food before I fall asleep again.

Before Sunrise

After leaving Supper and the girls, I headed across town to a dive bar where I was planning to have a couple of drinks and head home. 9:30am was going to be here sooner than I thought.

First off, many thanks to the bartender that started turning my rum & cokes into just cokes. I may owe her my life.

We started talking because I played Sweet Home Alabama on the jukebox. I think a bunch of guys from Texas were surprised to hear that in a ‘city’ bar. How they even found this bar, I have no idea. He was funny with cute dimples and that midwestern/southern grin that makes me want to pack my bags and move back to the South. New York boys have lost the art of a flirtatious grin. We went through the typical points of discussion. He acted like he was sincerely interested in my job and I acted impressed that he had his pilots license. We talked sports and obviously about Texas. I tend to shock many guys with the fact that I can carry on a conversation basically about any sport. But when the topic turned to UT and A&M, I held in my complete hatred and acted civil. He didn’t go to school at either so things were looking good. He admitted he was learning to play drum set and I admitted that I couldn’t. He kissed me.

4am came too fast and the lights came on and myself and his friends shuffled out into Greenwich Ave. While they were opening up the subway map and trying to navigate a route back to their hotel, I informed them that their best (and safest) bet at this time of the night was to hail a cab. He stayed back on the sidewalk holding my hand as his friends piled into two taxis. Or maybe I was holding his, I don’t know.

We stood there for awhile leaning up against the subway entrance on 7th Ave. He kissed me again and I got lost in the dimples. I didn’t want to put him in a cab and he wasn’t acting like he was ready to get in one, so I suggested that we at least walk in the direction of his hotel. I had already made it clear to him that he wasn’t going to be seeing Harlem. We started heading up 7th Avenue still holding hands, stopping at each block to sneak a kiss like two teenagers. We kept telling stupid stories and eventually realized that we were at 34th street. He was tired, I was wide awake. I still didn’t put him in a cab and we walked the remaining avenues in the same fashion as before. Somewhere between Madison and Park we realized that it was light outside and approaching 6am. I could tell he had no intention of pulling an all nighter on his last night in Manhattan.

No information was exchanged. I don’t know his last name and he doesn’t know mine. Neither of us wanted to ask. I kind of like it. I hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time and again, I think some boys may have lost that art as well.

There will be no sequel to this story which although sad, makes the moment slightly romantic. In the meantime, I’ll always wonder at what point does the other moment happen? If I’m walking away, at what point does he turn around and run after me? I imagine it isn’t after one night of drinking in a dive bar in New York, but I feel like that’s what I’m waiting for. I’m waiting for someone to stop me from walking away.

??

I have a new respect for the city busses. I don’t have to wait in a disgustingly hot subway station and my iPhone is actually functional.

Sorry, BK. My ‘phone’.