You Got Served
Because we have had only 1.5 days of rain instead of 4 this week I have been able to maintain a more even keel vis a vis the Looker. Also the fact that we spent sober, daylight, weekend time together and I was ready to go home before he was ready to let me go. I decided that this week it was his turn to ask me out and have been waiting and waiting!
My friend La Photographeuse is working with a dating coach and I am totally piggybacking on her experience. One of the things he says is that you need to make it fun for the guy to be in contact with you. I know this logically, but I have so much more experience emailing with friends than with dudes that I've had a hard time finding my groove. Nonetheless, I made the resolution that our email exchanges this week would be playful and a little bit naughty.
He started off the email chain around lunchtime on Monday, talking about the weather (pouring rain), the rest of his weekend (going to a concert on the Mall, which is awesome because I am one of the few other people I know who will go to stuff like that alone), and how much it was going to cost him in taxes if he were to move into the District and that kills the plan.
I responded in kind and added at the end:
I had fun this weekend. No bite mark this time. You'll have to work on that. I hope your chafing situation is improving. I feel pretty bad about that. Not bad enough that I wouldn't do it again, though.
His response discussed: purchasing a neti pot, certain tax depreciation advantages he had not included in his calculation, and
In any event. I'm sorry didn't leave a bite mark this time; I'll try harder next time so you have something to remember me by. And no need to feel bad about the chafing; I have dry skin, so it is both unavoidable and well worth the trade off.
This was on Tuesday. I mentioned in my last entry that Kimberly and I made a bet that we would each write to three people online and the first person to get a response would be treated to a drink by the other. But then I reneged on my half of the bargain when the Looker and I went out (although now that I think about it, I should have gotten some partial credit for kissing the Little Brother...) and automatically owed her a drink. On Tuesday evening, she came by my office to collect.
We went to Johnny's Half Shell, where the bartender had pulled her a pint of Stella by the time we were seated at the bar. Now, we all know very well that I cannot drink liquor, me more than anybody. But it was a sunny day and almost warm. I didn't want red wine under such circumstances, but it wasn't hot enough to drink a chilled white wine. So I decided I would have a cosmo instead. Why? And having a good relationship with a bartender is a double-edged sword. Because I was with rockstar Kimberly he made me a Ketel 1 cosmo that was basically an oversized martini glass of vodka with a drop of red food coloring in it. And because it was Ketel 1 (I don't drink liquor often, and when I do it's just rail liquor) it went down soooooo easy. So easy, in fact, that I didn't notice how drunk I was and then ordered a Bloody Mary. Kimberly had dinner plans and had to head, so I finished about 2/3 of the Bloody Mary and then walked home, thinking the walk would sober me up.
Dudes, I was DRUNK. Like DRUNK.
I got home, vomited, sent the Looker a drunken email:
Went to happy hour with my friend Kimberly tonight. I had a cosmo that was basically vodka with a drop of red food coloring and a bloody mary. Ok, I only drank half the bloody mary but damn, that's a lot of alcohol. So I am sending you a drunk email If you could see how many typos I am making you would be amused. Every word takes at least four tries. I don't think I've sent a drunk email before. So you asked if I exercise obsessively. I have four words for you: sub.li.ma.tion. OK, that's one word with four syllables but seriously, did you have to reawaken my libido? Me and my repression were doing just fine over here. This morning I had to eat my breakfast at work because I stayed in bed late to come. If I hadn't, i wouldn't have been able to concentrate at all. I blame you entirely. I'm supposed to be working out right now but I'd rather go to bed with my vibrator. I curse you with the same problem.
Drank water, vomited again, and passed out.
I am no good at naughty emails. I feel so silly when I try to talk dirty; it just feels completely artificial and porn-y (and I really despise the pornification of sex--nobody actually enjoys themselves anymore, but is just playing a part they saw on a movie) and does not come naturally to me at all. That was the best I could do.
But it was enough.
He got back to me right away with,
See, those chafed spots I had were just about healed. No more. I have been cursed with the same problem indeed.
I am pleased that I have reawakened your libido. I suppose this is the part where I pat myself on the back and say "well done!" I am sorry you were late to work; the solution is not to blame me, but to get up early enough to take care of yourself and still make it to work on time. Or to wake up with me, of course. That's kind of tricky during the week, though.
Regardless. Thank you for the drunk email; it'll give me something to think about when I go to bed, which I will do shortly. I hope your night/day tomorrow is going well, and I look forward to seeing you again.
Talk you you soon.
-Looker
Rawr! I love that he volleyed back, and with such haste.
In the morning I felt like such crap. I felt gross all day, in fact, to the point that I even considered skipping boxing. I had gone to the gym at lunch hoping that I'd sweat out the hangover on the stairmaster and stationary bike, but it didn't help at all.
I wrote him,
I hope that your evening was as enjoyable as mine but your morning much better. What possesses me to think i can drink liquor, like, ever I have no idea. Giant buckets of vodka are contraindicated.
I'm glad my curse was effective. But it's sort of a continuous loop. You think of me and then get all excited but then I think of you getting all excited and get all excited myself and then eventually neither of us ever goes to work. Participating in such activities together would be a good way to put an end to this dire situation. It is too bad that it's so hard during the week. (heh)
He suggested Gatorade and exercise, and said
In any event, clearly participating in such activities together is the best solution to our problems. We will have to do that again soon. Shame about the during-the-week difficulties. If you weren't so opposed to Virginia, maybe you could swing by after you go to the gym sometime. In support of the Virginia option, I would note that (1) I have a much larger bed and that (2) while it is fun to wake up in DC on the weekend, it is much less of a deal during the week. Also, easy access to good takeout, meaning we don't need to go out to dinner and therefore won't stay up as late.
A partner just walked in while I was typing this. Thank goodness for alt-tab. I should go before I get myself in trouble.
To me, takeout is a boyfriend privilege. Because once you get takeout one time, that's pretty much the end of going on dates. Quite the slippery slope. Also, there was the fact that although he kept talking about wanting to see me again he *still* had not asked me out for the weekend. I decided to slip in some of my dating philosopy under cover of flirting.
Interesting points. Counterpoints:
1. I thought our beds were the same size? Regardless, I take up very little room in a bed. Plus I have more pillows.
2. I am closer to the metro.
3. Takeout? My, my, this is rather presumptuous coming from the man who has not yet asked me out on our next date. Takeout is a privilege, my friend.
And my points:
1. Since you work out in the mornings, in the evenings you can go home, shower, get your clothes for the next day (and lunch, if you bring it) and then be at my house at the same time I get home from the gym.
2. You have your own bathroom here.
3. There is always the excitement of wondering if the neighbors will go up on their deck.
Rebuttal?
Although I am no good at sexytalk, I am a very successful law nerd.
As is he, because I could not stop laughing when I got his reply.
This email responds to your email of earlier this evening.
Responses to counterpoints:
1. Perhaps it is just that my bed does not have clothes on it. And I have 6 pillows. How many do you need, really? Isn't there some point of diminishing returns?
2. No you are not. And your metro stop requires a convoluted and lengthy journey for me to get to work.
3. I do not cling to your antiquated "dating" rituals and gender roles. Although we can go get a bite sometime soon if you want. When?
Counterpoints to your points:
1. I work in private practice, my friend. I leave work about the time you get home from the gym -- a gym which is located conveniently close to a metro stop, and a mere few blocks from a metro stop which would take you directly to my home. Heck, I just finished working a few minutes ago.
2. So? I do not need my own bathroom.
3. We get that same excitement from the bike path next to my bedroom. Also, I accidentally exposed myself to a bunch of roofers once. That could always happen again.
Additional points:
1. I have music for every occasion and mood. For example, I own a copy of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On," as well as an MP3 copy of the some [sic] "Fuck Like A Beast" by the band WASP. I have everything in between as well.
2. I have a coffee pot. And coffee. And tea.
I approached these negotiations in the spirit of compromise (me during week, you on weekends). You took a hard stance (your place, or no place). You do not appear to be negotiating in good faith. Regardless, I remain hopeful we will be able to come (heh!) to a mutually satisfactory (heh again!) agreement.
Best regards,
Looker, Esq.
Well, that last little sentence changed things. I hadn't realized he was contemplating us seeing each other both during the week *and* on the weekends. That is something I can support, and was in fact one of the things on the wish list I posted last week. I (finally!) finished the dress that had been on my sewing machine for the past three weeks while contemplating my reply, and then spent way too long composing it.
This email is in reference to your email of 8:51 pm. I appreciate your prompt and courteous response. However, I'm afraid this negotiation is not at an end. I have hopes that we can come (heh) to a successful resolution; we are already reducing the distance between our positions and perhaps soon we will be in close personal contact.
Surreply
1. I observed only two pillows. I would like evidence of these alleged additional 4 pillows. I will require two (2) pillows for my exclusive use.
2. Am too. And ditto. Ok, fine, I pretty much just have to change trains. But people are mean on the metro in the morning and plus there are tourists at Metro Center who stand on the left.
3. Although the rituals have antecedents in history (and may I point out that historically the notion of "dating" is quite young, too young to be antiquated in the opinion of my retained consulting, non-testifying expert sociologist), mostly a girl just likes to be asked out. It gets her excited. As you have experienced my behavior when I am in a state of excitement, you would be advised to create and prolong such feelings. Also, I asked you out last week.
Or wait, was the above a sur-sur-reply? In which case, under the local rules, I retroactively request permission to file a sur-sur reply.\
Surreply the Second
1. I had forgotten that my life is not the norm. However, I counter that I cannot come straight from the gym. The mutual satisfaction of both parties can be guaranteed only if some morning time is allocated to possibly being observed from the bike path in a compromising position and then heading straight to work. Therefore, I must return home, gather clothing and food for the next day, and then cross state lines for illicit activity. If you are familiar with the Mann Act and my favorite case decided under it, Mortensen v. United States, 322 U.S. 369 (1944), you would be advised to tread lightly here.
2. I do not necessarily need my own bathroom. However, I do need to shower upon arrival and have a few minutes in the morning.
3. I bet you made the roofers' day.
Reply to Ancillary Points
Although you were not permitted to introduce new material in this phase of the briefing, I will respond.
1. I have basically no music. It is pathetic.
2. I have a wide variety of caffeine free herbal tea as well as fancy hot chocolate.
You failed to fully set out the terms of your compromise in your initial papers. I understood you only to be asking that I cross rivers; it was not clear that you were offering to undertake the same arduous journey on an equally regular basis. On these grounds, I might be willing to set up a pilot program and feasibility study. Please recall that I have the full force of the federal government lined up behind my rather shapely ass; your full cooperation in this study will be appreciated. Perhaps we can discuss the initial planning phase over dinner on Saturday. Please consider the parameters of your participation and be prepared to tell me, in prurient detail, how you plan to fulfill your responsibilities under this arrangement.
sgda, esq.
Staff Attorney, Agency Where I Work
I can totally put you under order to do whatever I say
I totally win, because he wrote me back today at lunchtime to say:
I am lost in the legal metaphors now, and the double entendres are becoming overwhelming. I will revert to normal English -- although I would like to note that I once drafted a Reply to Opposition to Motion to Strike Plaintiff's Surreply to Defendant's Reply to Plaintiff's Opposition to Defendant's Motion for Judgment.
Also, I have pillows all over the place. Two should not be a problem. And you can consider me to be asking you out. Saturday is fine. Details to follow, but my ideal plans would include drinks, dinner, and an attempt to follow you home -- or, perhaps, to lure you to my home, depending on where we are. As per your request, I will contemplate appropriately prurient dinner conversation.
Additionally, I am reasonably certain that Mortensen supports my position and not yours. Nice try, though. I would also point out that getting up a little earlier would solve the various concerns you note in your email.
Finally: holy shit! it's beautiful outside!
-Looker
I won the legal competition and he (approximately) asked me out for Saturday night. Yay!
I'm looking forward to another nice weekend.