Posts Tagged ‘teenage’

It was a fairly last minute decision to meet up with him for coffee. I was staying at a client’s house while they were away at a wedding and there was a coffee shop 2 blocks away that was easy to find. When he arrived, I had to remind myself that he was 36. He was wearing old school black cons and a Kangol 504. There was also something decidedly teenage in his handling of his own body. When we said hello, he was nervous and shuffled as he greeted me. I could catch him looking at me when my own eyes were slightly averted, but whenever I looked back at him, he looked down or away. This could become endearing or obnoxious pretty quick.

Once we were sitting in the cafe he talked, but it was difficult to get the topic to stay on him. He answered direct questions but rarely offered extended details. Works in creative technology. Plays in band on the weekends. He redirected back to me a lot, something that doesn’t teach me a lot about the other person and eventually can feel as if it’s without merit to continue trying. I tried to dig and ask specific leading questions. He never aspired to becoming a professional musician and has been content just sitting around a small bar with some friends and “jamming”. He agreed that he is happiest in a corner, watching and observing but rarely participating far beyond that. He was more passive than I thought he would be. He hadn’t had one passionate opinion or stance on anything at that point and I needed to see him take charge of something, so when we decided on getting a cocktail after the café closed, I passed the decision making back onto him. He floundered and stared at me like a woodland animal wandering onto the LA Highway right before evening rush hour. I sighed and made a quick decision and took us to a small hotel bar a few blocks away.

We sat at the table closest to the bar and waited. Several groups came in, others left and we waited. A cluster of YOUNG ladies walked in and sat at the bar. The bartender scowled but served them with as much attention as I have witnessed any man give a young woman with breasts. They ordered Amaretto Sours (excuse me, isn’t that the international sign for potentially underage… CARD the girl regardless of her cleavage!) and giggled. We waited 45 minutes and he never acknowledged us in anyway. We left when a couple sat at the table beside ours and were served within 4 minutes. 5 minutes later we were sitting at the bar of an Irish pub with drinks in hand. With a few cocktails my teenage date loosened up a bit and even talked a bit more, not about himself of course, only about me, but he showed some humor with witty comments about the other bar patrons.

Come closing time, I had consumed three cocktails, one coffee and no dinner. I had spent an evening with someone who was cute enough with hints of potential sardonic wit, or at least mildly clever. I’ve also just gone from 4 years of celibacy to a month of extreme virtual sweet sexiness resulting in 4 days of very pleasing sex. I am saying that I was a bit in need of some attention. I couldn’t get shy boy to decide on a bar or talk in length about himself , so obviously self confidence or even bravado were lacking in him, at least this evening. His interest in me being apparent, I took control of the situation and I pulled him against a building and kissed him.

We made out for 6 hours. It felt naughty since I was in my clients house but risk free since they were gone. I got up to pee and brush out my matted hair. I gasped when I found that I looked like I was beat by the inexperienced horny teenager make out stick. We are in our mid 30’s and following dating etiquette by not surpassing second base on a first date. We own homes. So, why did I suddenly encounter the reality that I was stuck wearing turtlenecks for days? It had been 17 years since my last hicky. Plus he annihilated my bottom lip by chewing on it so much. Amateurs.

My phone ring around 7 am. I ignored it. At 8:30 his realtor called him. I checked my phone. My client had called and then texted to tell me they decided to come home early, and they would be back around !HOLY SHIT! 9 ish. RED ALERT! Where’s my shirt? Where’s your shirt? Watch check. OH hair, hickies, oh geez. YOU HAVE TO LEAVE. He wanted a shower. REALLY? They’ll be here in 15 minutes and you want to shower? NOT my house, you can’t be HERE. Do I have a turtleneck with me? YES! Thank god for the forecast. 8:52. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!!! I threw his shoes at him. LEAVE. 12 minutes after he left I appeared calm when my client walked through the door. Had I not checked my phone, she could have walked in on us in various degrees of undress, making out on her couch.

We met up again a few days later for a music showcase. It was pleasant but not exciting. His passive nature, while sweet and friendly, felt like an inability to commit to something for fear of making the wrong decision. This time I gave him a peck goodbye and told him we needed to behave because I didn’t want to be THAT girl but mostly, the truth is, because with his unexplainable teenage quality, I felt like Maude to his Harry even though we are within a year of each other. And everyone knows how unsexy that relationship was.

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