On Saturday, it was pouring in TriBeCa, the windows of the cafés and stores foggy and dripping, melting shapes and faces from the outside. I was grabbing a coffee after a 90 minute yoga class, half turnt up/half dazed. This class was both yoga & self massage- first we hit it hard on the mat, then empty the contents of our pink tulle bags that the studio provides, full of accoutrements, and we spend 45 minutes rolling around on balls and rubbing ourselves into a noodle-y blissful state. The teacher is very attractive- and because it is a body work class he takes hands on assists to another level- like full on cupping of the ass, firm hand slides down the side body from armpit to hip. I try not to sexualize yoga for the most part- it would be too easy to get freaked out. The combination of physical contact and deep tissue massage evokes a state that is similar to post coital bliss tho, same chemicals, same dreamy sleepy glow.
Tangental, really.
In the coffee shop, a man sitting by the window caught my eye, and I his. Just people noticing people. When I was waiting for my cup, he gathered his things to leave, tall and full, smiling at me with deep dimples on both cheeks. Ohhh my head says, yes talk to HIM- something about that working man-ness hits me just right on this dreary cold afternoon. He puts on a fluorescent parka and a white hard hat and exits, stopping outside the door to button up and light a smoke. As I am spicing my drink, he walks past the window and smiles again, I hold up a finger asking him to wait for me. Impulsive! He turns to look behind him, looks back and hold his hand to his chest as if asking “me?” in a faux- modest gesture. I smile and nod, finish what I’m doing and walk outside. Finally taking the suggestion of my friend, I say to him simply- “Hi! Thank you for waiting for me. You’re so handsome, are you single?” He laughs and thanks me, he is indeed single. I respond by asking if he would like to meet for a dinner or a drink sometime; he says sure. The conversation goes on a little while- he kind of goes on a ramble about being a simple blue collar man from Long Island, he is a train conductor for the MTA but today they have him doing work in the tunnels. Then he says that he mentions that up front because a lot of women don’t want to go out with a guy like him. I mean… The smoking part was kind of off putting for me but I liked his smile; then speaking with him it was obvious to me that I was not going to call this guy. Not because he works for the MTA or whatever, it was more that I could see we would not have much to talk about, and I quickly imagined that we would have very different ideas about how to spend our time together. 2 months ago I never would have even started the conversation, let alone held up my finger (!!!) and asked him to wait for me in the rain!
That’s 2 days of approaching people only to discover and decide that I’m not interested. Amazing how quickly that spark of attraction fades to nothing- but I am grateful, learning. Wait, have I told the avocado story yet? It seems apropos at this time…
Late last year, after a week of asking out 5 different men that I was really attracted to and getting turned down each time, 
I was really pissed, and just really tired, surrendered to my unattractiveness, deep in the self-pity. You know. I was talking with my friend- the same friend who initiated this challenge actually- and he said this great thing to me. I will tell you now. He said,
“Imagine you wanted to make some guacamole and you were at the store selecting avocados. If the first few that you pick out are not ripe, you would not blame yourself or say there was something wrong with you because you selected un-ripe avocados! You would just keep looking- or maybe you would decide that you wanted to make salsa instead and come back to the guac another time- but the point is that you would not find fault with yourself for any of this. It’s the same thing as all of these men turning down your advances, you have just selected a few un-ripe avocados.”
He’s really good at this stuff, right? I know. You should hear him sing!
A few days back I mentioned that I would go through my memory to determine if there was anyone really special back there that I should check in with (Days 32, 33, & 34). Any dreams I should chase. Turns out there was one, a BIG one, and I once it dawned on me on Saturday, I decided to sleep on it and if I could not shake the idea, I could do it on Sunday.
I couldn’t shake it.
So, this man… ooooo-weeeee, this man. Sighhhh. A little less than a year ago, I was walking home from the subway one night and I noticed a man walking a bit of distance in front of me. Actually I noticed his bag, it was fashionable, unusual, handsome. Anyway. He happened to turn down my street. The next night, again as I was walking home, I was about to cross over a busy thoroughfare and I turned to look over my right shoulder to see if the other lane was clear, and there was the bag and the man, right next to me. Knocked the wind right outta me. He crossed over and I surprised myself by catching up to him and striking up a conversation. Sometimes I guess I have the right instincts for these things. It was like love at first sight; no, it was love at first sight. That night we walked home together and as it would be, we were neighbors- about 10 Brownstones apart. It was not a week before I saw him again, this time on the subway platform heading into the city, where we spent the 40 minute commute engrossed in a quiet conversation about books, nutritional supplements, great restaurants. He took note of a few of my favorites and I his. Physically he could be my Mr Potato Head. Honestly. Dark brown eyes, clean and marvelously crooked teeth, brown peppered hair, dimples, tall… His voice was low and clear, his face was close to mine, he was very present in his eyes, our side bodies touching the whole time. I remember I could smell him- familiar sea and woods in amber tobacco- and I could see some of his chest hair popping out from his v-neck white-t, an black tattoo on his upper left arm. I got off the train one stop before him, and in my lovebeam I was pretty sure I had just found my future Mister.
We started to run into each other all the time. It seemed that anytime I left the house without make-up to run to the bodega for cat food or Cafe Bustelo, he would be there on his stoop in the sun, smoking his cigarette and enjoying a coffee. He often stood up and walked down the stairs to the fence when I would walk by, and we would talk- sometimes for 30 seconds, others for 30 minutes. We still ran into each other on the subway occasionally, and our conversations had gotten really cute because we were so excited to talk to each other and ask each other questions that there was always a lot of interrupting and smiling, close talking. We discussed our families and childhoods at length, he asked me many questions and he would remember details. Often, when I would run into him, he would follow up with something I had mentioned the last time we spoke.
One morning in June, just before my birthday, I spontaneously invited him to join me for a rooftop film later that evening. I could tell this caught him off guard, or kind of struck him in an uncomfortable way, which was hard to figure out. He took my number and texted me later that day that he was unable to join me. After that, I probably asked him out 2 more times and always he would get a stricken look and sort of evade the question. I let it go, we continued to talk about other things. I knew he was straight, I was pretty sure that he liked me, and every time I made up my mind to just ask him what the score was, I couldn’t put him on the spot. I have an enormous amount of respect and admiration for him. He, like many New Yorkers of means, was away most of August, and the next time I saw him was on his birthday late in September. It was a brief encounter, I told him that I was moving and asked him to keep an ear out for me. He did, we stayed in communication via text about apartment hunting for the next few weeks. One day, I saw him leave his apartment with a woman… my heart sank & my head nodded. Intuitively I knew this, I suppose. When I found something a couple blocks away, he offered his assistance with the move and was happy that I would still be in the neighborhood. He told me to walk by his house every now and then because he had just bought a car and I probably wouldn’t be seeing him on the train. Heart sank a little deeper.
The day that I moved out of that apartment, I noticed what I thought was his car parked in front of my house; confused because there was a car seat for a baby in it. Later, between trips in and out of the house, his car moved and I saw him double park it in front of his house, as a woman holding a little baby and baby gear came down the stairs as he opened the car door for them. I made up a whole big story about all that and have not seen him since. He texted me a week or so later to check on my new place, see how I was doing. I said I would invite him and a guest to the housewarming (I did not have one) and he said he would attend. We haven’t texted or talked in about 6 months now- in addition to the story I created about the baby, I also decided it was his midwestern polite upbringing that contributed to my self-deception- that this man was just being friendly and kind because that is who he is, it was never that he liked me.
I let it go.
Until yesterday I had not thought of him much; I like that he came to mind when I whispered this question about dreams to chase out into the wind. Maybe his circumstances have changed- I mean, I’m sure they have in one direction or another! But what joy it would bring just to catch up with him about books and vegan restaurants, just to take him in- voice eyes smell energy all of it, ALL IN. I chickened out at a phone call, so I texted him to say hello and that I was thinking of him, and he replied quickly and said that he was so happy to hear from me- a sad face in reference to us not seeing each other anymore. Elated, I took this as an opening and asked him to meet me sometime for a coffee or a drink and he wrote back that he would like that. It will take a lot of self-restraint not to chase him, so in a few days I will put out a day/time and we will see what happens. Cross your fingers & toes and light a pink candle on your altar for me, please.
It really is joy enough to know that we had this exchange today and that I was on his mind, even for a few hours. I’ve been smiling. On a cellular level, remembering his sweetness makes me calm and vibrant, like the Caribbean Sea.
xxx
no i do not love you 