We continued to e-mail and I inevitably, inadvertently insulted him. (My phenomenal people skills coming into play, yet again) I don't recall what I said but he misinterpreted it as a slight. He re-read it, realized what I had meant and asked me out again, stating it was the only fair way to make it up to him.
Uh huh. Clearly.
I agreed to meet him at my favorite bar Piper Down. I knew a couple of people who worked there. I was feeling a little sketchy about meeting someone off the internet. Isn't this how people end up in random trunks trying to kick out the tail lights while flying down the interstate to their demise? Obvi.
Is it weird that I even remember what I was wearing? Jeans, a racer-back tank top and flip flops. I hadn't cared enough to put in the effort of heels and cuteness. I remember looking at my nails and thinking how horribly chipped and gross they looked and not caring.
I arrived first. He texted letting me know he'd be late. A trend I would see a lot of in the future. I plopped down at the bar and ordered a drink. Dave, the owner of the bar, (who, by the way, is a stellar guy and has the best staff in the entire valley) sat down next to me and kept me company until E1 showed up. I let Dave know what I was doing there, that I didn't plan on drinking much, so if he saw me being led/dragged off with this dude, to please, for the love, stop him as it meant my ass had been roofied and I was on my way to getting myself raped and/or murdered. Since I couldn't remember if I had put on clean underwear, I couldn't let that happen. The embarrassment would have been too much.
Just as Dave has agreed to keep his eye out for me, in walks E1. He comes over, says "Hey Dave, hows it going?" and they shake hands. They already know each other and I've just insinuated that he's going to turn out to be this creeper rapist. People skills. In spades.
We head to the back patio where we talk and I pick at my nails. He invites me back to his place. (I'm so sure!) I politely decline. We talk until it's closing time. He walks me to my car, we hug goodnight and that was the beginning of my infatuation with E1.
He was 6'3, gorgeous eyes, and one of the sexiest men I've ever dated. Every so often you meet someone you have that ridiculous, irrational, unexplainable chemistry with. This was E1. He was exciting, spontaneous, hilarious. He would grab his guitar and perform an impromptu song about an American Eagle fighting a Canadian maple leaf. We played in a scrap metal junk yard. We sat on a chair lift at a ski resort in the summer and had a picnic. It was fun. And it was exactly what I needed after my heartbreak with Steele.
But. With the spontaneity came the impulsiveness. With the excitement came the utter lack of dependability. With the hilarity came copious amounts of alcohol. We would make plans, he would forget about them. I would be waiting at his doorstep for him to answer only for him to apologize, via text, that he's not there and ask to push it back for just an hour. I let this go on far longer than any self respecting gal should, but dammit! He was sexy. And so much fun. And did I mention how sexy he was? Cause he was really sexy!
Needless to say, I had to give him up. We still talk every so often and I filled him in on my recent communications with dick douche dustin, (his name doesn't deserve capitalization) the owner of my former gym.
I texted E1about the friend I have at the Salt Lake Fire Department who has agreed to pay the gym a visit regarding a complaint concerning faulty wiring and possible fire hazards.
"Oh my god. You are going to get killed and when the police show up at your poorly carpeted space they will see you strung up by climbing rope with cliff bars in your mouth and a crampon for a tampon."
|Show me a girl who can say no to this kind of dark and twisty and I'll show you a girl with no sense of adventure. Or at least one with a better sense of self-preservation. Tomato, Tomah-toe.|