She Who Will Not Be Ignored

LOLITA is back (she didn't really leave).

I knew she was young, impressionable, and a little nuts. But I still made out with her. A bunch of times. She's pretty and she constantly tells me how amazing I am. It's a slippery slope?

But when LOLITA gave me a friendship bracelet (the homemade kind, with string, that children give to their friends), I should have walked away. When she casually mentioned "our wedding" the fifth time, I should have called it off. Instead, I gently told her that she was being a bit overbearing. But as usual, if I didn't call/text right back, she got upset. Lesson #192: You can never ignore a crazy person.

The texts/instant messages/phonecalls/emails got out of control, and I reminded myself that if a man behaved this way, I wouldn't be so gentile about it. So I told her off. I said she was needy and pushy, and that she needed to learn about boundaries.

LOLITA gave me a curt "I've never felt like such an asshole. You won't be hearing from me anymore."

A whole hour later, she texted:

i will not B ignored

The Cycle

I told STRINGBEAN we'd schedule another date. That was days ago.

You see, I've been spending time with BOOM BOOM. Not a lot of time, which is perhaps perfect.

I'll start with our communication. We hardly speak. One-word text messages, or 1-minute phone calls, which usually happen after 24 hours of very lazy phone tag (we each make one call, without leaving voicemail messages, and then give up).

While we still have not been on a date, we do stop by each other's homes once or twice a week in the morning, before one of us is off to work. On those visits, we hug a lot. And kiss. And touch each other outside our clothes. And discuss the heres & there of the previous or current day. The visits last about 30 minutes tops and ends with a peck on someone's cheek and a smack on some else's ass.

The other get-togethers happen at night, usually late, after one of us has worked, recorded, or rehearsed, or in the rare occasion that we've gone out to a show together. BOOM BOOM says, "May I come over?" or "Are you coming over?" I say yes, we get into someone's home, and get to fucking right away. After fucking, we cuddle, talk about the day, and sleep. He is very cuddly. Sleep-cuddling has always been a no-no for me, but somehow his koala grip feels pretty good, even at 5am when he's stuck to my side and his sweaty head is in my armpit.

In the morning we fuck again, and kiss and hug some more. Then come the cheek-kiss, ass-smack goodbyes. The next day, BOOM BOOM calls me and I take about 24 hours to call him back. The cycle continues.

Boom Boom vs. The Hollywood Kiss

STRINGBEAN is tall, skinny, and I've never seen him in anything but dress slacks, a sensible shirt & a tie. To accomodate weather, last night he added a sweatervest and sportcoat with corduroy elbow patches. Did I mention he is in grad school?

We met at a vegan restaurant downtown and shared beet sangria and he told me about his job, classes, and family. We ended up sharing grade school sex stories and concluded that I'd have been a perfect high school girlfriend for him. We laughed, he paid, then strolled down the street to a pub for a cocktail & more chatter. After, a walk to the water tower, where STRINGBEAN swept me into a hollywood-style dip kiss.

Perfect date? Yes.

When BOOM BOOM called on my way home, I told him I went to dinner with a friend. We made plans for later in the week, because I thought about him all night.

The Return of Boom Boom

Around the time I received the cookie jar, I ran into BOOM BOOM [the fashion-forward drummer I shagged & made pancakes for this past spring]. He'd been on tour all summer, and I'd almost forgotten about him until I saw his teal jogging shorts and yellow tank top creeping toward me at a party. We attacked one another with hugs & kisses and agreed to get together "soon."

A few days later, BOOM BOOM picked me up to attend a mutual friend's Labor Day barbecue, wearing a hot pink Miami Vice tshirt and tight Wrangler jeans. We spent the afternoon talking to friends and stealing glances from across the front porch. He walked me home, and outside my door, we expressing mutual feelings:

HIM: I like you.
ME: I like you too.

...Which brings me to the present date. We've had a handful of sleepovers, incredible cuddling, quite a few laughs, and one quickie in a rock club's unisex bathroom. I'd say we're dating, but we have yet to go on a date. It's casual, which I enjoy, but how long can it stay casual? If I've learned anything, it's that The Fling has an expiration date. At some point, it gets real. He either becomes a boyfriend or somebody's feelings get hurt.

Thus, my date tonight. STRINGBEAN, a banjo player & snappy dresser with impeccable manners, came to a show of mine a couple weeks ago and asked me if I'd go dancing with him sometime. I said yes to the date, almost as a challenge to my 'relationship' with BOOM BOOM. As great as the cuddles and romps may be, spending time with someone else may convince me to get real with the dude in the teal shorts.

Lolita!

No one has ever made me feel so old or so creepy, and yet I allowed LOLITA into my life. I told myself (and her) that we could be friends, that she was new in town. She was lonely. And maybe I was simply flattered.

But she attached herself to me and made it clear she was going to be more than my friend. And let me tell you, youth are vigorous communicators! There's no "Leave a message and then someone calls you back and then you talk." It's more like incessant calling, emailing, IMing, with the finale being these consecutive text messages:

i called u why haven't you called me back?

what are u doing tonight?

are you ignoring me please don't :)

i like you why don't u like me :(

I finally told her to stop all of it. The friendship couldn't work with her insatiable need for attention. I was angry and she was sorry. She said she'd leave me alone.

A week later LOLITA came to my work with a Wizard Of Oz-themed cookie jar. So I kissed her.

Lolita

LOLITA is the young girl who walked into my office one day this summer alongside a coworker. We were introduced. I shook her hand and said hello, and she said in that sings-song tone of hers, "I can see your bathing suit under your dress."

The day after we met, she befriended me on the ol' Facebook, and sent me a message telling me she'd spent the previous night googling me, perusing photos.

When I'd run into her, she'd only say things like, "You're beautiful," or "I'm obsessed with you." She left a note in my office with a drawing of a mermaid, that said "I heart you." I never responded to any of these advances. I found myself stumbling on words, unable to look in her in the eye. LOLITA terrified me. She's the kind of girl who would burn your house down if you dumped her.

And so I gave her my phone number.

Back In The Saddle

About a week after the breakup, I was asked on a date by GEORGE JONES, a friend of friends who was young, pretty, and apparently very interested in me. He found me on Facebook, and asked me to dinner via instant message. It was one of the lamest date offers I've ever received, but I took it. Sometimes you just gotta go on a post-breakup date.

We went to a very typical date restaurant. We dressed up, had two hours of getting-to-know-you conversation, laughed a little, GEORGE JONES paid, and he kissed me goodnight when we got to my bike. It was a pretty good kiss and he smelled like Old Spice.

In the two weeks that followed, we ate a few meals, and had a couple awkward sexual encounters.

One night we slept together, at his place, and I apologized for not being so 'into it.' I told him I wasn't ready to be back in the saddle, that I might need some time. He said he understood and kissed me on the cheek & we went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up in his apartment, alone, not a note in sight, and unable to unlock his back gate behind his apartment to escape. I eventually broke it and got the fuck out of there. GEORGE JONES didn't return my call that morning, or ever again.