Lover, Why Don’t You Come Over

Just not that night.

It’s a school night.

Or that night, that’s too late.

Or.

Well fuck me.

And yes, that’s the direction this blog is going, so if your shy, or my mom, stop reading.

Ok.

So, I have sort of kept this under my hat since I have been pretty focused on healing and finances and Burning Man and being out of work and getting back into work, but yes, I have taken on a lover.

One who I have not written about until tonight because it felt like have a special secret sauce weapon.

You got to love a man who will take care of business while you recline on the bed with a leg propped up on a heap of pillows and your ankle covered in frozen peas.

The first time it happened I must have giggled madly at one point as he admonished me to hold still, trying! trying! While inveigling the perfect position to not disturb the peas, the leg, the ankle.

I will be the first to admit there were a few uncomfortable moments and one that was flat-out painful and the first time was cut short for a while, before the hormones and the ibuprofen took over and we tried again.

Success.

We had plans for our first date to be the Saturday evening after my ankle injury.

Of course I had to cancel.

I called him up and said, hey you remember that thing that we all were discussing about taking pain medication in early sobriety?  That night that you gave me your business card.

“Hey girl with the purple hair!”

He hollered at me as I was about to get on my bike and ride off into the sunset.

Literally.

That’s where I live, in the Sunset.

Aside–I miss riding my bike!  I miss it so much. I miss not having to rely on MUNI, which was so packed tonight it was unbearable and was running late and ugh.

I miss not having to budget forty-five minutes to an hour to my morning commute when it took me fifteen to twenty minutes to ride my bike to work.

That being said, I am beyond grateful that I have a relatively easy commute to MUNI, I walk a block and there’s the stop.  I get off in Cole Valley and then walk a block and I am at work.  Granted, tomorrow’s commute rather sucks, N-Judah to Cole and Carl, 43 to Masonic and Fulton, the 5 to McCallister and Divisadero.

Commute last week took full hour.

Bike ride?

25 minutes.

Sigh.

Soon, soon, I shall be back again upon my trusty whip.

So, having just thrown my leg over my sparkly steed, I paused and turned, and there he was, the guy I had thought earlier, you know, maybe you should give him your number, you have a lot of the same views on things and I liked what I was hearing.

He has a big God and I am a size queen.

“My name’s Carmen,” I said, as he approached and we exchanged pleasantries.

“What are you doing next Monday?” He asked and I was about to say hanging out with you when I recalled a date to go on a motorcycle ride with a close friend who would soon be leaving town on said motorcycle.

“I’m not available,” I smiled, the pause just hanging in the air.

“Well, call me if you ever are,” he said and handed me his business card.

I texted him when I got home.

I said let’s grab coffee.

He said yes.

We made a date.

Date fell through.

Ankle got hurt.

No more date.

Or so I thought.

“How are you doing mija?”

I got a text.

We bantered back and forth and it was cute and flirty and he asked if I needed some frozen peas and I said yes.

He didn’t bring me any frozen peas.

But I did get served.

Ahem.

May I just say that it’s so nice when a guy takes the reins.  It really is, it just clears things right up, there’s not questioning, is he attracted, how can I tell, how should I act, I’m attracted, what do I do next.

I offered him a beverage, “standing” in my kitchen on my crutches with my foot resting lightly in the walking boot, tea, water, bubbly water?

He strode toward me, took my face in his hands and kissed the daylights out of me.

Oh.

My.

How nice.

I mean, nice.

Right to the point.

“Water.”

Ok.

“And let me get it, sit down, ice your ankle, prop it up,” he kissed me again and I just about swooned.

“I’m just going to sit on the bed,” I waived at the bed, the stack of pillows already waiting, the bag of frozen peas sitting on top (just like the princess and the pea except the other way around, I am getting vast comfort from the peas, even now as I blog, there’s a bag on my ankle.  It was a long day at work.), I nestled down and took off the walking boot, pulled my leg up, placed it gingerly atop the three high stack, and dropped the peas into place.

They fell off a few times, but that’s probably more details then you need to know.

My friend joked, “pulling the old damsel in distress move, eh?”

Apparently.

I had no idea that worked, fuck I might have been doing it long ago.

What I heard better though, was something that was said to a neighboring friend that very same evening, just before I had gotten home.

“Be the rock and the let the butterflies settle on you,” he said to my friend.

Oh.

I am usually a moving target, and a fast one at that, on my bicycle, on my scooter, on the run, run, run.

It’s hard to be intimate with someone going 90 mph all the time.

I got real still.

I am trying to connect with that again.

As now, being back to work, it’s hard to co-ordinate a musician/waiter nighttime schedule to my day time nanny hours.

I have you on my brain, I texted earlier today, do you have anytime this weekend that we can get together and be noisy?

He likes that I am noisy.

I am no librarian in the sack.

He shot back a time and night.

Shoot.

I told him my schedule.

Fuck.

How’s this going to work out?

I don’t know, but I am willing to go a night or two with little sleep, we haven’t negotiated that yet.

It’s a challenge dating a musician, I have never done this before, or for that matter, one this much younger than I, but as a friend said, “you would rock a twenty year old’s world.”

And he’s not twenty.

He’s twenty-eight, so there.

Giggle.

It’s fun and I don’t have any attachments to it and it’s nice to have good sex and sex is healing as far as I am concerned and it’s nice to have had the experience of going slow in the beginning when I could not really, um, perform, to the best of my abilities.

The abilities are coming back.

There’s time.

I just wish it was earlier in the day.

I am getting older.

But I am not dead yet.

 

 

 

 

 

Tags: ankle injury, bicycle, bicycle commute, bicycling, dating, flirt, frozen peas, kissing, postaday, recovery, scheduling conflict, school night, sex, sleep, texting