This weekend (and every first weekend of August for the past five years, and every first weekend of August for the rest of my life), I was involved in a wonderful experience volunteering at the finish line for the Pan-Mass Challenge. The event is a 192-mile bike ride across Massachusetts, starting in Sturbridge and finishing the Provincetown Inn on the very tip of Cape Cod. It is, and has been, the most incredible thing I’ve ever done, thus far in my life. Eventually I will get a road-bike and do the ride, but for now I am happy to volunteer.
This year, I was in a new position that I was a little skeptical about doing, but it quickly became more fun than anything I had ever done. My two friends and I were working with a team of people at the shower tent, giving back-rubs to the riders after they showered. I don’t like touching people, and had not realized I would be doing that when I signed up for the position, but then I realized it was a great way to have conversations with riders and make connections.
Well, one of the riders who rode in rather early whom I massaged was quite a nice looking fellow — I introduced myself to every rider I massaged, so it was an easy way to get his name. But I’ll just call him Dream Man henceforth.
We had a great conversation, just about where we live (not too far from each other), what we do, where we went to school, etc. I ended up massaging him longer than I should have — the leader of our team had to remind me that lots of people were waiting and I had to send him away! As he was leaving, he said, “Maybe I’ll see you at *name of bar we talked about*!” I hope I said something cute like, “I hope so,” but I think I said something stupid like “huuuuurrrrrr duurrrrrrrrr youre the sexiest”
Well, we saw him a few more times later as he walked past our station. Each time he looked over and smiled at me. And I died because we are going to get married. As the whole event was wrapping up, and as he was leaving, he walked past once more and was oogling my goodies, and I gave him the cute finger-wave that means “bone me now hurrr durrr” and he came around to the back of the station where I was massaging.
We had this silly ticket system that didn’t really work, but it gave him the perfect opening - he goes, “I realized I forgot to give you my ticket when I got my massage earlier.” And then he left his card on the table under a bottle of lemonade. I hope I said something cute like, “Ohhhh, thanks!” but I think I said something stupid like “hurrrrr durrrrr blerrrrrr derp”
Either way, I was, at no point during the day, pretty. I was hungover (from drinking all the booze in Provincetown the night before), hadn’t washed off my makeup, sweaty, smelly…etc. I can’t wait to go on a date with him and be actually pretty and not the drunkest. I won’t text him until Tuesday, though.
Basically, he fits all of my visual criteria (fit, tall, and dapper) and has a very Ivy-League name which is important to me, and I think we’re getting married. I’ll keep you updated.
I also saw my first grade teacher there. That was quite cool.