So last night I didn't get to bed until close to 5a.m. It wasn't because I was out partying. On the contrary, I got home at a fairly decent hour, close to midnight after finally seeing Borat. It was funny but the image of Borat fighting with his 300-lb producer in the nude is forever seared into my psyche. Then my friend and I went to Tower Records at Lincoln Center that's closing. Yes, very sad for them but their CD's and DVD's were dirt cheap! Still on my high from the bargain basement prices I had scored, I logged onto my computer and went to a site I peruse occasionally. It's a "networking" site for Muslim professionals. I'm sure it's front and center on the FBI's watch list but probably a waste of time for them given what actually transpires which is a lot of blow hards ranting about the Patriot Act and clique-ish "testimonials" left for various members. I have a challenge question before anyone can contact me. It's very basic: who were the reporters who broke the Watergate story? Yet it's been effective in shielding me from ignorant guys who are simply attracted to my picture.
Last night, I was checking the various emails sent by potential suitors or equally bored losers trolling the internet and was bombarded with a slew of chat requests. I was bored and kind of missed the male banter that occasionally ensues over IM so I accepted an invitation to "chat." I started talking to some guy who lived in New Jersey and another pinged. OK, I can juggle two conversations at once. Then another...PING and another! Was there a nude picture on my profile I wasn't aware of? Let's just be real for a second. I'm not unattractive, self-deprecating-yes, but I have been described as "hot" so this wasn't a complete anomaly. However, it's been months since I've been hit on which has been a bit demoralizing. Even at last week's Christmas party, the only person who expressed an interest was the head of the mail room and I was subsequently informed that he's married. So needless to say, I was enjoying the attention.
But like so many of my forays into the virtual or actual meat markets, it wasn't long before things got out of hand. At one point, I was talking to 8 guys at once while declining incoming chat requests. I don't know, it was weird. And it wasn't that intellectually stimulating as most of them were asking inane questions like, "If you were stranded on a desert island and you could have only one person with you, who would it be?" Why don't you just ask me what kind of tree I would be? LAME.
Then this guy from Boston pops up. I have the option to examine his profile before I decide whether to bring him into this exercise in self-esteem. Under occupation, he lists "filmmaker." I'm suspicious. Anyone with a camcorder can declare themselves a filmmaker. I've done one documentary and had people call me that which is kind of a stretch. But he was really cute and this wasn't one of those fluke pictures where he had a really good day and was lit right on the money. He had like six pictures and he was cute in every single one. So we started the conversation like this:
Boston: Hey
ME: Hello, trouble
Boston: Me? Or are you projecting?
Nice. At the outset of our online conversation, I was a bit distracted. After all, I was juggling 7 other less interesting conversations. But being the eternal pessimist, I didn't want to put all my eggs in this one basket. He was intuitive.
Boston: You seem distracted.
ME: I have a secret
Boston: share
ME: I've got 8 chats open right now.
He was impressed and not just with the flurry of male attention I had apparently attracted. He googled me and said, "You're on a website called CNN Babes." I fucking love the genius who came up with that website. It wasn't the most professional looking page I had seen on the internet but it always made for good google when you plugged in my name. I pretended to be over it. "That's sooo embarrassing," I lied. For his part, he was clever and intelligent. And he made me LOL. He made me LOL a lot. Is the whole LOL starting to grate on you? Because my roommate hates it when I use it. She prefers "Ha ha" or "Heheh" which I think is just pedestrian. A googling of Boston proved that he was in fact a filmmaker and a pretty accomplished one at that. We actually had a lot in common.
He kept my attention long enough to force the other chatters to shut down based on my slow coming responses. I told him of his victory and he was quite pleased with himself. We ended up talking until 4:45a.m. But ever the love pariah, I was soon dismayed to learn that my hot, witty new friend was moving to LA... TODAY. I know. It sucks. But all is not lost. When he learned that I would be in Vegas on Friday night, he suggested we meet then. So, he's flying from LA to Vegas to meet moi. And, lest you wonder if he's really all that given my earlier accounts of my hotness meter needing to be re calibrated, please note: my incredibly discerning roommate agreed. I was afraid to show her his pics because I had been recently berated for my taste but she conceded that he was definitely a "hottie" and definitely worth risking being murdered and stuffed into a suitcase. Actually, Gladys is going to be joining us for dinner until I give her the heave ho. Gladys is dismayed at her pseudonym but she has been informed that she'll deal with her "fat girl name" as penance for her lack of discretion at the Christmas party.
I had wondered if a combination of insomnia and boredom had led to my long conversation with Boston and if, in the light of day, the spell would be broken. But he called me today and we talked for two hours while he packed. I gave him way too much information about myself which is what I do when I start to like someone. I put all my cards on the table and encourage them to run for the hills. "Give him a chance to get to know you before you shove all your baggage out the door," my therapist will plead. But I'm just not wired that way. Boston likes that. "You don't seem judgmental and narrow-minded like so many girls I meet," he said. But after the diarrhea of the mouth, I became pensive. "Did you have to tell him about Mo?" I chastised myself. (Mo, in case you forgot, was the dentist I dated for two years who would always tell people he was a "doctor" and had the big hairy mole on his shoulder. I broke up with him when he finally decided to introduce me to his parents last July. Whatever, he was a terrible kisser on top of his other issues.) But instead of being scared away, Boston seemed intrigued. "How you doin' over there?" he asked as my babbling came to an abrupt end. "I'm feeling a little overexposed," I admitted. I would love to paste the conversation we had so you can see how cool he is but I think I've learned my lesson. Basically, he took my crazy and raised me neurotic. So maybe we're both crazy but the point is that he's hot and smart and funny and I think I'm in like. I think he likes me, too, because he called me from the airport while I was out jogging today. And then he called me again during his layover. But it's not weird, stalker-like calling because I enjoy talking to him. SPOILER ALERT: this is how things started with the lazy-eyed guy who also made me laugh and feel comfortable only to kick me to the curb in the most unceremonious fashion. Let's hope I can stay in the driver's seat this time.
