Third Date: Pozole and PDA


And a firm, oh get your mind out of the gutter, resolution to not have sex.

FIRM I tell you.



Sigh dramatically.

Stew pot set to simmer.

Jesus H. Christ on raft.

The man is sex on a stick.  And too charming for his own damn good.  Probably for mine as well, but this lady is sticking to her guns.  I have put on the chastity belt and it is staying there.  The lock is definitely getting tested, as he does not have a problem with PDA.

Oh no, none what so ever.


In a little over one week not only have I become the part of “that couple”, you know the annoying googly-eyed couple that is completely engrossed in their own little world.  The couple that is oblivious to the restaurant closing down its doors down around you.  But also the couple that you see in the cafe that you want to shout out, “get a room” at while they are in the midst of doing what ever despicable acts of public affection that are dangerously close to vomit on range.

You know the couple.

Yeah, well, that was us today.


Every time I think there are no other things that I am “never” going to do, there I go off and running, doing just that.

He started it though.  I swear.  I am not a shrinking violet, but I probably would not have made the advance in public quite like he did.  The man is smooth as butter, I can say that much.

It does not help that he has the longest eye lashes I have ever seen on a man, they look like feather dusters.  Ie, they look fake.  I could not believe them, I caught myself staring at them as we were waiting for our table today outside of Puerto Allegra for lunch.  They remind me of baby duck down.  I did not say this to him, how does one say that to a man, you have gorgeous downy baby duck feather lashes, please stop batting them at me as I may swoon?

No.  Doesn’t quite work.  Although when he caught me staring I did say I was astounded by how long they were.  Seriously, deliriously long.  I am not exaggerating.

When our “table” was called, it was to sit at two open stools at the bar.  He asked me if I minded, he knows that I don’t drink, and I said I didn’t have a problem, liquor being the last thing I was even thinking about.  We cozied up to the bar and promptly fell into talking about this and that.

I related being surprised to have gotten the lunch invite, I had been under the assumption that his weekend was too full to accommodate any time away from his schedule.  I was correct in this assumption, however, he made time.

This is flattering.  I was very flattered.  I like that he re-arranged his schedule so that he could spend a few hours with me and came over on the BART to do so.  I was also relieved to relate that I had a movie date with a girlfriend set up for this evening, thus implying two things–one I wasn’t going to wait around holding my breath for a possible date and two that I had things going on other than waiting around for a guy.

The implied, but still pervasive, thought for me was also that it was good that I had outside plans as the chemistry flames were still there, undoubtedly still there.

He asked after my holiday plans and I let him know I would probably be spending them with Beth watching Christmas movies since she’s on call at work.  He said he would probably be eating bacon with friends.  The man likes bacon.

Good deal.

A lot.  I think it goes something like this–bacon, bananas, dog, iphone, working out, girls.  Dog may be placed a head of bananas, but bacon wins all.  Although I did accuse him of not needing a girl friend since he was so enamored of his iphone.  He totally admitted it, no hesitation whatsoever.

Then he asked what I was doing for New Years.  I said I had no plans, it’s always struck me as sort of amateurs night, he was in complete agreement, but then I hesitated and he caught it and asked what?

Well, I do fall prey to the whole societal thing of wanting the kiss at midnight.  I have had it once.  Once in my 38 years, even with having been in a long-term, five-year relationship, ironically he was not the one kiss I got at midnight.  The five-year guy and I never did manage to make that happen, despite my many attempts.  I was too busy working for it to ever quite pan out.

As I am saying this and wandering off down memory lane trying to figure out how exactly I never did have that kiss with Justin, Mister West Oakland places his hand on my cheek turns my face toward him and plants the most dastardly kiss on me that I have ever had in the middle of the lunch rush at the restaurant.

I just about fell of my bar stool, and I’m sober!

What was that?

“Just in case you get mad at me before New Years, I wanted to make sure you got your kiss”.

Oh holy shit.

I also got the neck nuzzle again and the staring deep into my eyes.  I love the pozole at Puerto Allegra, its a salsa verde style with big hunks of chicken and ham and bacon and tons of hominy.  You get it with chopped lettuce and thinly slice radishes and slices of lime (warm tortillas too, but I don’t eat those).  I don’t think I tasted a bite.  I was certainly warmed up though.

Side Bar–I did not realize how nervous I was to see him again until I was sitting next to Beth about a half hour before I was to meet with him and she took my hand and said, “oh my god, you’re freezing!”  My hands were ice-cold, the rest of me was flushed, and yes, I was sweating.

Thanks body, that was fun.  I was absolutely adrenalized.  Total fight or flight.  Man I wanted to both scurry toward and run fast away.  It was an act of complete surrender to just sit still and let the feelings wash over me and go their own sexy way.

After lunch, what lunch, did I eat?  We went for coffee at Ritual before he had to get back on BART and head back to his responsibilities across the bay (dare I even say, it’s too much and makes me want to go whelp out a couple of puppies, for fuck’s sake, really, this big swaggering boyo is going to go do what?  Baby sit for friends so they can have a date night.  You have got to be kidding).

The Universe is wicked and wiley and crafy and the couch in the front window at Ritual was open.  As we were ordering he says, go put your purse on the couch, what couch, that one, the one that is suddenly empty despite the fact that we were standing in line for ten minutes waiting to place our order, despite the fact that the place was crawling with lower Noe Valley transplants slumming it down the hill for their Ritual fix (fyi Four Barrel is where all the hipsters have gone, and even that is being overtaken by the stroller set, next place to get your fixie gear and tight jeans pants on is Sight Glass, go now before the SOMA is over run with Baby Bjorns).

Oh yeah, so then, we were that couple, on the couch at the cafe snuggled deep into a corner completely entwined.  Discussing life, dogs, family, names of first born, and what would be the worst thing that could happen if I came over that afternoon with him to West Oakland and took a nap).


Really, what could possibly go wrong with that?

Are all men programmed this way?

I am holding the hell out.  If anything, although he thinks that I think too much, and he’s probably right, but I also trust my gut on this one, I feel like the only right thing to do at this time is to hold out.  It took me awhile to say what I meant and why it was important to me and I admitted openly that even just a little while ago I probably would have been making my way under the Bay with no hesitations at all, but that times have changed.  I have changed.  Because I have continued to do the same things for so long and always gotten the same results.

If I want different results I have to take different actions.  Which for me means establishing intimacy before having intimacy.

He got it.  And for a moment, there it was, his soul, I saw right in there.  I saw it.  I saw past the duckling lashes and past the smooth talk and past the biceps and the swagger and the jedi charm, and I saw him, just purely him and I think, I could be wrong, but, I know I am not, he saw me, Carmen, me.

We both kind of inhaled.  And I said, that, that’s what I want, that.

And you know it.

The barrier was sieged for just a moment and then it was gone.  The war has not been won there are many battles yet to wager and maneuverings to be had.  Yet, there will not be manipulation on my part.  I will just keep showing up and being honest about what I want.  Because that one little glimpse was worth it.

If that one little glimpse is all I get, then I am alright with that too.  I can still feel it in my chest.  That is what it is to connect with someone.  That is how I want to connect with all the people in my life, whether romantic, friend, or family.  That is what makes this world, that and absolutely nothing less will satisfy me now.

My resolution no sex until monogamy, I make myself accountable now.

No matter how fucking good the pozole is.

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