Freudian Slip

Reality

Thu, 07 Jun 2007 02:41:54 GMT

Mr. Clean and I ended up spending a lot of time together after that night and I enjoyed hanging out with him. He was an abstract personality who made me laugh; Quirky, but brilliant. He shared with me his feelings about everything from his pretty-but-generally-stupid neighbor who had knocked on his door the morning I ran from his house, to his interest in part-time jobs he wanted to pursue like private investigation and bail-bonding, or odd inventions he insisted on trying to create - Like the stun-gun-glove he designed and eventually ended up electrocuting himself with until the batteries in it went dead. ( Yea, he had to iron out a few wiring issues, haha ). I listened to him talk about where he had been, and where he wanted to go in life, About his divorce and how his hopes of starting a family with his ex-wife had been shot down. I found myself respecting him and wishing more than anything that I could be the right person for him.

But it wasn't meant to be. While I recognized that he was the sort of man I truly wanted, I simply could not bring myself to feel any romantic chemistry. I was not sure if this was because it simply wasn't there, or if I was simply unable to feel that way anymore. But in all honesty, it didn't matter. While we did not talk about a future together, I knew that I was leading him on, and that brought about it's own guilt. So eventually I told him in my own broken way that I didn't want to sleep with him again. Although I forever regret not telling him why.

Mr.Clean eventually moved away to take care of a family member who fell ill. I will always miss him and we talked occasionally over the years after his relocation, but eventually lost contact. He called my mother once to tell her that he ended up falling in love with a girl down in New Orleans and they were getting married. I have always been happy for him and hoped to find out what happened to him, but no one we know has heard from him since Hurricane Katrina.

Zenith

Thu, 19 Jan 2006 00:51:51 GMT

After all these years, I am still involved in the process of self-discovery.
It's better to explore life and make mistakes than to play it safe. - Sophia Loren

He was laying in the bed, watching me; There was no sense in being shy. Taking off my clothes, I let them drop to the floor, revealing the satin material against my skin. Self conscious, I forcibly ignored the dread which battered the walls of my stomach, and as I laid next to him, felt his hands touch my skin, it occured to me that this was very much a mistake - Yet somehow I was consumed by a strange fascination that only onlookers of an accident might understand; I wanted, no I needed to see how things ended... even if it wasnt going to be pretty... even if it confirmed that I was nothing more than an emotional trainwreck who was looking for happiness in all the wrong places...

Studying him, as he explored my body in a very similar manner, it occured to me that he'd no idea that my physical reciprication was purely mechanical; And as his lips met mine, I quietly prayed that he would never taste the sadness that washed over me then. Here was a geniune, passionate soul above me, who deserved to find someone who'd appreciate his attentive skills as a companinion and lover - and here I was, a selfish girl, lying underneath him, completely unable to find it within herself to enjoy the fruits of it. How disgusting.. What sort of person was I, to look a man who offered his body to me in a more gentler and steady way then Id ever known and yet, wish he was someone else? While it was very possible he was doing the very same thing, ignoring reason seemed to finally be its own punishment.

But just as my thoughts resigned to hoping to at least give him physical release
From this entire wicked affair the world exploded before my eyes in my own....

Resume

Tue, 17 Jan 2006 14:49:20 GMT

Sigh. I really want to pick this blog back up.
But somehow.. everytime I find the time to type..
Its almost impossible, because there just isnt enough silence
to get back in the swing of things.

So i left this entry.. hoping it would let me start somewhere.....
Because anywhere is rarely the same as nowhere...
isnt it?

Saturation

Sat, 07 Jan 2006 15:09:07 GMT

It's been months since I've wrote here...
Consumed with life or maybe by it
I must say I missed this...

Pass

Fri, 15 Apr 2005 13:29:14 GMT

" That'll be a dispute to the end of time, Mr. Brown: whether it's better to do the right thing for the wrong reason or the wrong thing for the right reason." - Anne Revere

They say opportunity knocks, and when it does - one should answer it... Part of me felt that way about Mr. Clean; Maybe he wasn't exactly my type, but who was I to overlook a good man? After all, how many times in life was I destined to meet a kind, independent, well-rounded single guy, who was not only interested in me, but could actually keep a job, get along with my friends, and wasn't threatened by my status as a single mother? More so.. what are the chances of finding a man like this.. twice? Exactly... There's no telling.

So I decided to give it a chance; Some might think that deep down I'm afraid of being alone, and that is what brought me to this decision, but you know what the truth is? My greatest fear at this point was that I could be sabotaging myself with my own vanity. Sure there might be fate, or God - a plan for me which might bring me Mr.Right... But what if there isnt? What if.. just what if.. I am the only captain sailing my ship? Hadn't I heard somewhere: Life.. is what you make of it? It was time to find out.

I'd been sitting on the carpeted floor of Mr. Clean's apartment for about twenty minutes trying to make small talk before I cut to the chase and asked if I could stay the night with him... While I'd been pretty damn confident about making this proposal prior to voicing it, as soon as the words escaped my lips I nearly drowned in my own insecurity - Oh Jesus, does asking him that make me sound like a slut? Studying his face, I thought I'd prepared myself for any negative reaction he might have to the idea, but his even gaze back at me and soft nod caught me off-guard - to my ultimate demise. Next thing I know, I started back-peddling... babbling like an idiot about how I wasn't ready for a relationship, but we were both adults... if we did this - I didn't want him telling anyone else... it could just be a booty-call.. But thankfully Mr. Clean interrupted me before I could shove my foot any farther down my own throat.. saying that he'd hoped I'd stay the night with him; In fact, we didn't have to do anything, he'd be happy just to sleep next to me.

Suddenly at a loss for words, I tried to think of something to say in response but couldn't, when he broke in again saving the day; He said it was getting late and if I wanted, I could stay downstairs to watch a movie, and I was welcome to join him in the loft whenever I wanted - but he had work in the morning. Not sure if I was ready to follow him upstairs, or change my mind and make a last minute bolt out the front door like a chicken shit - I simply nodded as I watched him walk to the bathroom. Listening to the sound of the water running in the sink, I wondered how this would all turn out...

But as he left the bathroom and climbed the spiral staircase up to his bedroom loft
I found myself in tow behind him - It was time to throw reason to the wind....

Progress

Sat, 12 Feb 2005 12:38:50 GMT

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; Some blunders and
absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Honestly, I think I was hoping that Mr. Clean wouldn't call me to make good on my promise to hang out with him again that night; Not only was I paranoid about the woman who'd knocked at his door while I was alone in his apartment earlier that day, which had left me wondering if he had a romantic interest waiting in the wings, but I also felt terribly guilty about the fact that I hadn't spent much time with my daughter in the last 24 hours. When I'd come home that morning my little one was asleep, and I'd left for my Grandmother's house before she woke, only to spend the rest of the afternoon shopping; Although, I wanted to believe that it was ok to have a day to myself, It wasn't easy to escape my maternal instincts which screamed that I should have taken her with me.

Walking in the door of my mothers house, I couldn't help but yawn; Of course my daughter was awake, and sitting in her highchair where my mom was feeding her dinner. Expecting a verbal lashing for being gone so long, I was surprised to see a smile on my mothers face and to hear that Mr.Clean had called; Apparently they'd talked for a while, she commented on how nice he seemed and that he said he would call back but she hadn't heard from him again. This caught me sort of off-guard; My mom had absolutely no idea that this guy liked me, and although she'd seen him around once or twice, I couldn't imagine what they would have to converse over, but I was too tired to inquire about their conversation. Assuming that I was in for the evening, I took over for her, finished feeding the baby and then ran a bath for us both, planning to bathe before getting ready for bed; In fact it was just after I got her to sleep when the phone rang...

It was Mr.Clean; He said he wanted to know if I was gonna come hang out with him; Thinking that I should just call it a night, I said I doubted my mom would baby-sit for me, maybe we should do something another time, but to my surprise my mother butted in, saying she didn't mind. Caught off guard, I didn't want to seem like I was just making excuses, so I said oh, well, I guess I could come over after all. Hanging up, I studied my mom for a few minutes and told her that I probably wouldn't be out late since I was tired, but she said she wasn't worried about it since the baby was asleep; Noting her good mood, and remembering how I'd passed out at Mr.Cleans house the night before, I changed my mind and told her In that case, I might be out late, so she didn't have to stay up waiting for me, I'd just take the house key with me...

Leaving the room, I meant to change out of my pajamas when I practically stumbled over the shopping bag I'd left in the hallway; I'd almost forgot about it, and picking it up, I brought it into the bedroom with me. Pulling the chemise out of the bag, I felt the silky material spill through my fingers and decided to try it on again; It was really too bad that I didn't have someone to wear this thing for, because I liked the way it felt against my skin. This is when I started thinking about Mr. Clean again; Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I was sort of puzzled by the way he kept popping up into my mind. Laying back on the comforter, I stared at the ceiling trying to study his face in my memory, looking for some sign explaining why I wasn't attracted to him, even though I wanted to be; When I found myself comparing all his physical qualities to that of my ex, I was damn near floored...

Fighting back tears, I tried to erase the memory of my ex's warm brown eyes from my mind... What the fuck was wrong with me? Why the hell did I think of him everytime I came near another man? How was it possible for me to hate him so much, and to wish to never see him again, yet I couldn't escape the flashbacks of the way I'd felt when we first met, the taste of his skin, and the warmth of his body against mine... The guy was a fucking piece of shit, and he'd hurt me so much, but here my own thoughts were betraying me and craving his touch... Almost naseous, I wiped the tears spilling from my eyes, when it finally occured to me that I was wrong. It wasn't really him that I missed; It was the feelings I'd once had for him. The craving, the desire... The feeling of being wanted... The shimmer of electricity which climbed through my spine as I closed my eyes and succumbed to a slow caress of fingers drawn against my flesh...

Sitting up, I found myself staring in the mirror; Wondering how I was ever going to get past the anger and the hurt that swirled in my chest, when I noticed that I was still wearing the chemise.. As the silky material brushed softly against my skin, I decided not to take it off...

If I didn't leave now, I'd never go; Throwing a pair of sweats on over my white shift
I slipped on some tennis shoes, threw my hair in a ponytail, and left out the door...

Intimacy

Fri, 11 Feb 2005 13:11:37 GMT

Some seem oblivious to the fact that our briefest exchanges in social interactions
are but mere crossroads between our most intimate and personal lives...

Yes, I dont like shopping malls; Maybe it's just me, but I hate walking half a mile weaving between kiosks, while dodging the oncoming traffic of hurried consumers and their stray children, or getting my feet ran over by runaway strollers, just to make my way to the handful of stores I might be interested in browsing through. Worse yet, I absolutely loath aggressive sales reps; No, I do not want to try a free sample of your fudge,... PLEASE do NOT spray me with your newest perfume... Yes I have time to fill out one of your surveys to qualify for a free trip to where-ever, but that doesn't mean I'm going to... and for the love of god, please back the fuck away from me, I know youre just trying to do your job, but following me around the store cooing at me like I'm a chubby newborn while complimenting me every twenty seconds is NOT going to land you the commission youre looking for...

Ok, It's very possible that I'm anti-social; I'm not sure exactly how to label the intense appreciation I have for my own personal space, but whatever the case, I was definitely not pleased by the unsolicited presence of the woman working at the store I ended up in or her game of twenty questions; Hi, how are you? I'm good thanks.. Are you searching for anything in particular? No, not really, I'm just looking... Did you hear about our sale going on today? Um, I saw the sign on the window... Oh yes, then you know that everything is 15% off? Um, yea.. Oh, and if you are looking for some nice slacks, its buy one get one free? Yes, I see the advertisement sign on top of the rack.. On and On and On... This girl would not shut the fuck up and just let me shop. It was so hard not ask her Do you sell ball gags? and if so, can I buy you one?

Eventually, I ended up wandering off into another section of the store just to avoid her; There was a reason why I hadn't brought my daughter with me, I hadn't come here to entertain someone else, and besides, I honestly didn't know what I was looking for... Roaming through a few different departments, I was accosted by two more sales reps before I realized that I wasn't really in the mood for other people; Gazing around the store, I was just about to leave when I caught a glipse of something white out of the corner of my eye. At first I thought it was a slip, but on closer inspection I discovered that it was a gorgeous pale ivory chemise; Rather short, but still tasteful, I inspected the material to find it incredibly silky between my fingers. Glancing at the price-tag, I wondered what it might look like on, when I was startled by a womans voice: She said it was really pretty wasn't it? Another sales rep... Simply nodding, I stepped back from the lingerie and wondered to myself why I'd even been looking at it..

This garment was not made to sport around the house; It was defnitely something you'd wear for a lover.. It was ridiculous for me to consider buying it, after all, I was practically celibate. Yet, I couldn't resist trying it on. Debating for a few more minutes, I swear the sales rep read my mind, because she broke the silence this time by telling me that the changing rooms were around the corner, and if I wanted any help with anything to just give her a yell. As she dissappeared down the isle, I gave into temptation, picked the nightie up off the rack, and searched for the dressing room..

It was a beautiful piece of clothing; Not only did it fit really well, but the color complimented my skin. Dear God, It had been a long time since I'd donned anything like this; Hell it wasn't like I had any reason to... I wasn't seeing anyone, and had no man to wear it for. But then the weirdest thought flashed across my mind; I wondered what Mr. Clean would think, if he saw me in it...

When I decided to buy the chemise, I searched for the rep who'd left me to my shopping
Noting her quiet smile, I appreciated her lack of comment, thanking her for the help...

Relation

Wed, 09 Feb 2005 20:14:52 GMT

"Family is a mixed blessing. You're glad to have one, but it's also like recieving
a life sentence for a crime you didn't commit." - Richard Pryor

When I got back to my Mother's house, she was passed out on the couch; Relieved, I grabbed a blanket and curled up on the loveseat next to my daughters crib. Wishing I could go back to sleep, I layed quietly for a while with my eyes closed, until I heard my mom ask me what time I'd made it in last night; Turning my head to look at her, I realized that she wasn't really awake. Instead of responding, I simply rolled over and waited for her to start snoring again; There was no way I was going to get her to babysit for me again that evening, if she thought that I hadn't come home the night before...

At some point I must have dozed off, because I never heard it ring: My sister was tapping my foot and said my Grandmother was on the phone. Still laying down, I accepted the cordless from her and tucked the reciever against my ear, asking hello. My Grandma wanted me to get up; She said she'd bought some things for my daughter and she had a really late birthday present for me - that I needed to come down and pick it up before her husband got home. Recognizing this as a signal that she'd bought something really nice, and didn't want anyone else in the family to stop by and see it, I sat up from the couch and asked what did she buy? Of course, she refused to give up any secrets and said to just come down, right now, she'd talk to me when I got there.

When I got to her house it was mid-afternoon, my mom's stepfather was going to be home very soon, and as much as I would have liked to have visited with my grandmother, I knew I wasn't going to be able to stay long; My Grandfather is for the most part a very nice man, and I love him, but he and I don't get along; Ever since I'd moved out of my parent's house at 17, he's treated me like the blacksheep of the family, and has went out of his way to let me know this by making snide or rude comments to me whenever we see each other. It's definitely not how I want things to be, but over the years, I've learned that there is no changing his opinions of me, and as much I've gone out of my way to try to win his respect, there is no pleasing him - So I eventually resigned to avoiding the man whenever possible. My Grandmother is fully aware of the fact that I've tried to make ammends with him, and has tried to stand up for me when it comes to him, but this of course backfires, and makes me feel guilty, because it just causes arguments between them which don't stop until I leave...

It was nice to see my Grandma again; Slightly plump, with short white hair and skin paled by age, she was wearing another one of her homemade muumuu's. As much as this sort of dress might have seemed silly on the average person, she has an aura of grace which just overpowers whatever she wears; Maybe it's the crinkling lines of her honest smile which distracts you from the shapeless atire, and demands ones respect, or maybe its just that I know what an incredibly good person she is. I'm not sure, but I hope that when I'm much older, that I turn out just like her. She was sitting behind her kitchen table as always, a sewing maching pushed aside, amidst a ton of fabric, spools of thread, doll clothes and pin cushions; As long as I can remember my grandmother has been incredibly artistic, making, in her spare time, just about anything and everything one might find at a local craft fair. Walking up to give her a kiss, I asked her how she was and then sat down on the other side of the table across from her...

She said she was glad I came down so fast, she'd bought my daughter a bunch of really neat clothes from a consignment shop she'd found and she wanted me to go through them with her. As she got up, I followed her into her bedroom, where she pulled out bags after bags of clothing; My grandmother knows nothing of name-brands, and asked me what I thought of them, and of course, I couldn't help but be suprised; She had obviously bought the most expensive things the shop had to offer, everything was really nice, when I told her this, she sighed in relief - she was hoping that I'd like them. Giving her a hug, I told her it was really nice of her to give my daughter these things, when she brushed me off saying to bring the stuff into the kitchen, she still had to give me my birthday present.

By the time I'd gathered all of the the clothes and brought them into the kitchen, she was sitting behind the table again and pushed an envelope towards me. She said to hurry up and open it because my grandfather would be home soon; Sitting down, I thought maybe it was a gift certificate to a nice restraunt or something, which is her usual M.O. or maybe the twenty bucks she normally gave all us grandkids for our birthday, but inside the card was one of her credit cards. Slightly confused, I thanked her, and then looked at her puzzled. She said, she wanted me to go shopping; She wanted me to go down to the mall, and buy myself some really nice things, on her. Clothes, some shoes, some outfits, and also some suits or things I could wear to job interviews and anything else I needed. At that point, I was almost heartbroken; I told her there was no way I could accept this sort of gift...

Since my first day of Junior High as a kid, I'd been paying for my own things; My step father, had come from a family of seven kids, and not having much when he was young, he learned the hard way how to be independant in life, so when he married my mom, who had me, he thought that the best way to teach me how to care for myself, was to make me do everything on my own. This wasn't easy to deal with while growing up, because none of the other kids at my school, had to mow lawns just to buy new school clothes in September, but I'll admit that in the end, this sort of implied hardship instilled in me, a sort of pride, which demanded that I earn my own keep. The idea that my grandmother would want to buy me things, and spend money on me, without asking me to pay her back, was entirely foreign to my senses, and as much as I knew that this was her way of spoiling me, I was almost hurt by her kind gesture; It was incredibly hard, to have her offer to buy me things, which at that point I couldn't really afford for myself. For most of my life, I'd been making due with whatever I earned, and as far as I was concerned, I had no right to spend her money...

When I tried to explain some of this to my Grandmother, she became angry; I can't say I blame her, because I'm sure that she doesn't offer this sort of gift to just anyone, yet at the same time I just didn't feel right about it. But she wouldn't take no for an answer. She said she'd always hated my step-father, and called him a penny-pinching bastard, telling me that she never understood why he was so selfish about money, and then recanted an incident from my childhood; When I was young, maybe 8 years old, my Grandmother had went out of her way to send me a huge box of new barbies to double as birthday and christmas gifts. It had cost her a shitload of money to ship them all the way to California where my step father was stationed at the time, but when the gifts arrived, my step-dad, instead of giving them to me, took them all but one; The rest he sold at the local P.X. on base, because he felt that if otherwise I'd have been spoiled. My Grandmother said, that she was really angry, because one of the dolls she had sent me was worth over five hundred dollars, and was a collectors item, which she had meant for me to keep until I was older, but my father had sold it for 12 bucks.

Having my Grandmother recant this story, which had already burned itself into my memory years ago, wasn't easy and as she went on talking about all the different times this sort of thing had happened over the years, I didn't really know what to say. At one point, I almost interuppted her, even though I knew it was disrespectful, but she quickly cut me off and told me to listen. She said, that no matter what, I needed to know that she thought of me as one of her kids; She knew it wasn't right to play favorites with her grandchildren, but when my mom had me at thirteen years old, my Grandmother had been the one to raise me. She said that when we my mother got married, and we moved away with my step-father who was in the military, she'd cried every day, because I'd left...

My Grandmother and I were in both in tears at that point; There was nothing I could say, I didn't remember that part of my childhood very well, but what she said had touched a nerve in me. Even in my earliest memories, I'd never really related to my mom as a mother, I'd tried really hard to, but it was next to impossible because we were so close in age; She was just a kid herself and although I'd never told anyone this, I'd always considered my Grandmother my mom, because she was the only person in my family who treated me with common respect, and mothered me in a normal way. She knew how I'd grown up, about my moms mental illness, how screwed my step-father was, and she was the only person in our family who had ever made an effort to keep up with me...

Before, I could tell my Grandmother how I felt, we both heard her husband's truck outside; It was time to go, he would be in the house in about ten minutes, after his routine stop in the garage, and as much as I wanted to stay to talk to her, we both knew it was best that I just leave.

Collecting myself, I told my Grandmother, that I love her and gave her a hug goodbye

As I left through the front door, I heard my Grandfather and the argument begin...

Foolishness

Thu, 03 Feb 2005 21:43:07 GMT

" I know everyone has their insecurities. Everyone gets lost in their own thoughts...
I can't decide if Im overly sensitive... of if I'm really crazy." - C. Nugget

When I woke, Mr. Clean was sitting on the edge of the couch next to me; Whispering, he said he was leaving for work, but not to get up, he just wanted to ask me to make sure and lock up the apartment if I left before he got home. Rather groggy, I realized that I must have been sleeping really hard, because it took me a few minutes to digest what he was saying. Damn, I'd passed out on this guys couch and he wasn't kicking me out? Trying to sit up - thinking I should leave, I found myself tangled in sheets; Apparently sometime during the night he'd covered me up. Apologizing, I told him that I was sorry about falling out on his couch, but he brushed me off saying he'd really enjoyed my company and if I was up to it, that I should hang out with him again after he got off work. Feeling pretty guilty, about the night before, I said sure, that maybe this time I'd stay conscious; Grinning he said that sounded like a deal, and then made a mad dash for the door saying he was sorry but he didn't want to be late, to give him a call later on his cell...

Left alone in his apartment I tried to shake off the early morning daze, but it didn't work very well; Fuck, it was still dark outside, what time was it? Oh shit... When I'd left the night before, I'd told my mom that I'd be out late, but I'd call if I wasn't going to come home - She was gonna kill me. Jumping off the couch, I meant to look for a phone when I felt something on my foot and heard a loud screech; Before I knew it I had a set of fangs embedded in my skin- son of bitch, I had stepped on the cat. Hobbling after the poor thing, I meant to pet it and see if it was ok, but the damn thing didn't want to be near me, and after a second I gave up trying to console the little bastard - half afraid that it would make my eyes swell shut again and then realizing that he'd did a good number on my flesh.. Great I was bleeding...

Maybe Karma didn't want me in this guys apartment; Whatever the case, I breifly doctored my foot in the bathroom only to notice that the would had began to swell... Who the hell is this allergic to cats? Returning to the living room, I folded up the sheets I'd slept under and went to grab my purse when someone knocked at the door; It had to be 6 or 7 a.m. in the morning, who the hell was coming to this guys apartment this early? Hoping that it was Mr.Clean forgetting something, I crept towards the entrance thinking I could look out the peephole, only to realize that there wasn't one - worse yet, the door was unlocked. Slightly nervous, I kept quiet, waiting to see if someone spoke, and hearing nothing, I quickly turned the deadbolt. As soon as I did it, I heard a females voice saying open the door; Oh shit, did this guy have a girlfriend or something?

There was no fucking way I was answering it; Not only was this not my house, but I had no idea who this person was. You'd think if it was his neighbor or something she'd know that he would be at work by now, and if it was his manager they'd know too.. It could have been a solicitor, but I doubt that they'd demand that someone open the door.. Maybe it was a good friend of his, or an ex girlfriend.. Maybe a friend with benifits or um.. a bootycall buddy? I know it wasn't his family because he wasn't from this state... I must have sat on the couch for about fifteen minutes avoiding the windows when it occured to me that I was being childish. What the fuck was I so worried about?

Convincing myself to stop being paranoid, I grabbed my purse and made for the door
Peeking outside to see no one; I locked up the apartment and made for my car...

Folly

Sun, 30 Jan 2005 14:11:49 GMT

All plans, safeguards, policing and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years
of struggle that we do not take a trip; A trip takes us." - John Steinbeck

Although I'm not sure the exact reason why I did it, I ended up calling Mr. Clean about a week later asking him if he wanted some late night company; He said he did, and offered me directions to his place. Maybe I was just lonely or fucking horny or something - I dunno.. But I think the truth is that I wanted to see if I could get past the fact that he wasn't my type; I mean, don't get me wrong, he was a very good looking guy, but for some reason, I'd passed him over without a second look when we'd first met, and much as I didn't do it on purpose, it bothered me. Ok, I'll just say it.. I was afraid that I was only attracted to bad boys, and I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't, and that I'm not always superficial...

When I arrived at his place I was sort of suprised, I had expected your normal run of the mill apartment but instead his abode consisted of a huge living room, a small kitchen, one bathroom and really cool spiral staircase which led up to what was apparently an open loft; His taste in furniture was rather simple and a definite sign that he was a bachelor but at the same time very tasteful - reminding me of asian inspired homes I'd seen in movies and magazines. As we settled in the living room, I felt sort of childish for being there; Here I was talking to what seemed like a nice guy who might actually have his shit together, and the only reason I was there was to see if I could get his clothes off in the hopes that it might spark a tinge of intrest to crawl up my spine...

We sat on the couch talking for about ten minutes before he asked me if I was hungry: He said he'd just made a late dinner and wanted to know if I'd eat with him. Crap - as soon as he said it my stomach let out a growl; It had been a few hours since I'd ate last and as much as I hadn't thought about it, food sounded pretty damn good - So I said sure. When he came back from the kitchen, he handed me a huge bowl of pasta - Since when do bachelors make Grilled Chicken Fetticcini Alfredo? Maybe I could fall in love with this guy after all. Ok, maybe that was a joke, but I admit this guy could cook. As we talked over our bowls he asked if I'd seen Blade; He'd picked it up earlier that day and wanted to watch it; Oh I dig vampire movies...

Sitting back to watch a rubbered up Wesley Snipes, I started to relax just as my eyes started to itch; I dunno what the deal was, but something in this guys house set off my allergies... Rubbing my eyes, I tried not to irritate my contact lenses but it just got worse when I realized what it had to be.. and asked him if he had a cat. He said yea, it was probably hiding under the couch - Whispering oh shit, I ran for the bathroom to wash my hands and face, only to have him chase me in there asking whats wrong, where I had to explain to him that I'm terribly allergic to certain felines... As he jumped to my rescue by digging a box of benadryl out of his medicine cabinet I thanked him profusely, but unfortunately it was too late; My eyes started to swell shut...

This was not how I planned the night; Prior to my arrival, I never expected that
I would fall asleep on this poor guy's couch with a bag of ice on my face...