The Rolodex

As wonderful as my date last night with Dream Man was, I think I am going to keep my distance.  Here is why: as he is the Vice President of Global Public Relations for his company, he travels about half of his time (he said).  So much that the company wants to move him to London, so he would live here half of the time and live in London half of the time.  I do not want to get invested in something AGAIN that is just going to end because the person is moving away.

Honestly, there is a neon sign above my head attracting men who are moving away.  What is wrong with me.

That said, last night was so much fun.  He is super sexy and I like him and uh oh.  Also he has a dog, which makes everything great.

The daily avocado post was not my last post.  WHAT SHOULD I WEAR ON FRIDAY????

Dream Man said we would be going to grab a “bite to eat” and drinks in a part of the city that I know is shmancy.  Here is what I know about him (from his card): he is the vice president of global public relations at his company, a high profile financial firm.

So basically he makes all the dollar bills and I need to look niiiiiice.

I probably won’t wear heels because a) I will have been on my feet at Madewell all day b) I am not sure how tall he is so I don’t know what kind of height I can get away with c) we will be walking around presumably d) I don’t want to.

WHAT DO I WEAR WHAT DO I WEAR HELP ME!

Inbox me  because I apparently am not allowed by tumblr to be inquisitive.

I have a date with Dream Man on Friday night.  As you know, he had given me his card on Sunday while I was volunteering at the PMC.  I decided to wait until Monday evening to make contact.  I had been reading things online all day about how a guy who gives his card instead of getting a girl’s number is just copping out, and I was a little worried, but decided to go for it anyway.

We exchanged texts briefly on Monday night but after I had texted, he texted back, and I responded, I heard nothing from him for the rest of the night.  I was a little disappointed, but I figured it wouldn’t work out anyway because his texts don’t show up blue on my phone (indicating he is not an iPhone user — sad days).

He texted in the morning, while I was eating breakfast and away from my phone.  I came back to three messages from him:

1: Sorry, was out with a former client last night.

2: Know that I don’t make a habit of asking beautiful women out by plunking my card down on a table… But I didn’t want to crash the massage tent and interrupt the best thing that guy had all day.

3: That said, I would love to catch up over drinks some night soon.

Jesus.  I’m in love.  Anyway, after determining that we will be going out on Friday night, he asked, “Show me around [your town]?  Or maybe you’d rather hit the city?”

I said, “Let’s hit the city…take me to your favorite place!”

Hours later (it seems to me that this relationship will not be highly based on text messaging - which is good!), he said, “Done.  I’ve got a plan…”

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Also, my besty looked him up on LinkedIn and told me yesterday — he was born in 1978!!!  He is eleven years older than I am!  Holy moly.  I have no issue with it, I hope he doesn’t either.  I will post about the date later.

In other news, I have a terrible sunburn.  I never get these.  I’m so embarrassed.

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.