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(Part 2) Aug 4, 2003 The Boston-flirt snuck up on me. A giant bouquet of flowers appeared before me. And a white candle in a crystal candle holder. "These are for you," he said. It was Saturday night. It was our first time meeting. Up until last night we had spoken only on line, from meeting on eharmony. I arrived first. He was nowhere in sight. But the Boston-flirt had told me if that happened, to order chips and a pitcher of Sangria while waiting. So I did. As I waited, the waiter staff, grew curious. Jose, my waiter, in a big red shirt and black pants, eventually sat down at my table, across from me. He acted like a woman asking about a loved-soap opera that she hadn't seen in ages, "So...." Jose said, "Tell me..about the Boston-flirt." So I told him. The rest of the wait staff was lined up, their backs leaning against the brightly-colored Mexican tile wall,pretending not to listen. But they were reacting to what I said with submerged smiles. Jose and I talked and drank, with orange and lemon slices floating like happy faces in our Sangria glasses, when the Boston-flirt snuck up on me. Only it wasn't your typical sneak up. And it was a multi-layered sneak up. Jose saw him first. "There he is!" Jose suddenly repeated several times, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. I turned. I saw a man. I said aloud three times,"No that is definately not him." The man did not look at all dangerous. Plus he looked nothing like the eharmony photo I'd seen of the man I called the Boston-flirt. He didn't look bad. He might be good very looking. But I could only see that he did not look like my dangerously sophisticated Boston-hottie. In fact, I said it right TO the Boston- flirt. "No, that's not him." That's when he handed me the flowers and the candle. But this man was a stranger to me. He was not the man I'd gotten to know over the past few months through heart to heart talks. My heart sunk. And I tried hard not to show my disappointment, so as not to hurt him. The clock suddenly froze at 9:15 p.m. For eternity, it seemed, it was 9:15 p.m.. The flirt talked. But the clock never moved. The Boston-flirt was like Gomer pile. Innocent. Un-dangerous. Overly solicitous. Silly. Trite. Unpolished. Uninteresting. I became aware of how grateful I was that I had never told him that when I have in-love feelings I can't eat. Since I now realized he didn't know that,.... I suddenly clapped my hands, like a sultan and said to my sultan waiter, "Jose? The menu!" Jose knew. We both laughed. I'd told him about the apetite test. He smiled sympathetically as he got the menus for us. We ordered. When Jose brought the two dinners out. Jose still smiling sympathetically at me, I woofed down a big bite of chille relleno. Then right as my next bite was poised on my raised fork at my open mouth, the Boston-flirt proclaimed, "I ate Salmon with spinach salad last night and THREW IT ALL UP!" I am telling you, it was soooooooo hard not to laugh in front of him at his lack of smoothness. It was like a study on what NOT to do to impress a woman. Where was the man I spoke to all these months? The smooth guy. The guy who said all the right things. The fun guy. The guy with the tender heart. The witty guy. The intelligent guy. The sophisitcated guy? The guy who was so good at flirting that I was scared of him. He talked about the World Trade Center several times and asked me details and three times I told him I prefered not to talk about it. The Boston- flirt could barely pay attention that night. Was he ADD? What was going on? And he was staring. I noticed guys do that over dates. I highly don't recommend it. I kept wondering if I had spinach on my cheek or something. What was he staring at? And he leaned way over to talk to me most of the night. It made me have to lean way backwards, hanging onto the edge of table, like you hang on to the safety bar of a too-fast-moving amusement park ride, so you don't fall off. If I leaned backward any more I'd fall backwards, off my chair,onto the floor in the restaurant aisle. I was also feeling like I was coming down with something like the flu suddenly but felt way too embarassed to tell him. Then, out of the blue, he said, "My best friend told me to just be my self tonight." He repeated it twice. I just looked at the flirt, not sure what to make of his words. Then he explained.... "Yeah. Frank told me to be myself and I said I can't. I still can't. I can do ANYTHING EXCEPT relax and be myself with you." His saying that changed everything for me. I suddenly realized I was with someone who liked me so much he couldn't think straight. And couldn't listen and couldn't concentrate and didn't know what to say. He was painfully witnessing his own actions tonight. He was saying all the wrong things, and knowing it...because he liked me that much. And he just plain admitted it. He was sitting across from me completely vulnerable. Just looking at me. I flashed back to my ex, one year ago, who was sitting across from me at our kitchen table... telling me I was no longer beautiful and that no one would ever love me again ...and to not even try...because it could never happen for me... . ..and yet here was this man, admitting to me, he couldn't think straight just because he was near me. Well, he still looked like Gomer Pile to me. But he had suddenly become a very endearing Gomer Pile. He asked me if I was ready to go for a surprise. I really wanted to go home, because fever-like symtoms were creeping up on me....but I didn't have the heart to tell him, after what he'd just said to me. So he got us a cab..and took me to the World Trade Center Site... It was another twist, because for me, it's a sad site and I didn't want to think about it. But he took me inside a tall building that faces the World Trade Center site. And I realized it was the Millenium...the hotel. It was beautiful as we walked through the silver lined, clear revolving door, that had blue flowers in one of its sections, which revolved around with you..... Arriving inside, I looked for the bar or where ever it was that we were going. And then he floored me. He pulled out a hotel key card and stood there showing it to me. And that is just the beginning. The outcome suprised me. Tell ya more tomorrow. ------------ About the author: Chrissa Falcon is a newspaper reporter in the New York Metropolitan Area. Chrissa may be reached at ChrisFalconColumn@hotmail.com Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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