me if I liked Lindsey Buckingham.
I stopped halfway to the elevator bank and turned. What kind of question was that out of nowhere?
“I’m not sure who that is,” I replied.
“From Fleetwood Mac.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m not too familiar with them. I’m really tired, so…goodnight.” I started to walk toward the elevators again.
“I thought you might not. You can’t be more than, what, twenty-five?” he said.
I didn’t like this conversation, if you could even call it that.
I kept walking and just said, “I’m a little older than that,” then felt disturbed when I realized he was trying to find out how old I was.
Kenny, for the record, must have been pushing fifty.
He said, “Goodnight, Dawn,” just as the elevator doors were closing.
I was new to the building, so I didn’t want to cause any problems, but I briefly considered saying something to Carlos, the main doorman, who was very professional and probably wouldn’t stand for Kenny flirting with residents.
Lindsey Buckingham? Really? Get a new approach, Kenny, and don’t use it on me , I thought as I rode up to my floor.
“Tell me everything,” Rachel said, when I called her. “I want details. Go.”
I told her the whole story, from the bookstore encounter to the pizza joint and the bar, to the subway ride home.
“He was funny and playful and didn’t try any of that shit Ian did early on. You know, the low voice and the staring deeply into my eyes like he was trying to put me in a trance, like he was some kind of damn vampire or something.”
“T hat all used to sound so good to me,” Rachel said. “But not anymore.”
Rachel and I always read the same books at the same time. We had our own little two-person book club. When we discovered erotic romance, we tore through those novels faster than anything else we read, and we both found ourselves totally smitten with those wildly dreamy alpha males.
“He’s so…” I tried to think of a better word, but I couldn’t. “Normal. That’s what he is.”
“Nothing wrong with that, as long as you don’t get bored.”
I said, “Not normal as in boring—”
“I know what you mean.”
I was standing in my little kitchen. I had too much energy to sit down. “It makes me wonder what it would be like. After Ian, you know? To date a guy who isn’t so goddamn intense all the time. Ugh.”
Even the thought of how I had to act around Ian was exhausting to me now. Who can maintain that level of submission all the time? And to think that all along I was trying to do it to please him, to meet his lusty demands, and he had manufactured the whole thing.
“You’re doing it again ,” Rachel said. “Don’t get worked up over him. It’s history.”
“I know. You’re right.”
I walked around my apartment, which didn’t take very long, but I had to move. I was walking in circles as I listened to Rachel.
“This was meant to be,” she said. “ I know you said the chances were a hundred percent, but seriously, think about what’s happening here. You have to see where this goes. Maybe this Sam guy is the one. Maybe not. But in the meantime, you could have some fun.”
“I’m not even thinking about that,” I said. And if she brought up the analogy about dried up eggs again, I was going to hang up on her.
“Yeah, you are.”
“I am? Do tell.”
“You’re definitely thinking about it,” she said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t ha ve spent so much time with him.”
“Okay, so maybe the possibility did run through my mind once or twice.”
“Or forty times. Remember when we went to see Friends With Benefits and No Strings Attached ? We were totally into the idea.”
She was right. When we saw them, we debated which was the better movie, and her bringing it up again on the phone started that discussion again. She liked the first movie, while I liked the second one.
“I could do that,” I said. “I mean, nothing’s happened yet.”
“ Yet ,” she scoffed.
I stopped halfway to the elevator bank and turned. What kind of question was that out of nowhere?
“I’m not sure who that is,” I replied.
“From Fleetwood Mac.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m not too familiar with them. I’m really tired, so…goodnight.” I started to walk toward the elevators again.
“I thought you might not. You can’t be more than, what, twenty-five?” he said.
I didn’t like this conversation, if you could even call it that.
I kept walking and just said, “I’m a little older than that,” then felt disturbed when I realized he was trying to find out how old I was.
Kenny, for the record, must have been pushing fifty.
He said, “Goodnight, Dawn,” just as the elevator doors were closing.
I was new to the building, so I didn’t want to cause any problems, but I briefly considered saying something to Carlos, the main doorman, who was very professional and probably wouldn’t stand for Kenny flirting with residents.
Lindsey Buckingham? Really? Get a new approach, Kenny, and don’t use it on me , I thought as I rode up to my floor.
“Tell me everything,” Rachel said, when I called her. “I want details. Go.”
I told her the whole story, from the bookstore encounter to the pizza joint and the bar, to the subway ride home.
“He was funny and playful and didn’t try any of that shit Ian did early on. You know, the low voice and the staring deeply into my eyes like he was trying to put me in a trance, like he was some kind of damn vampire or something.”
“T hat all used to sound so good to me,” Rachel said. “But not anymore.”
Rachel and I always read the same books at the same time. We had our own little two-person book club. When we discovered erotic romance, we tore through those novels faster than anything else we read, and we both found ourselves totally smitten with those wildly dreamy alpha males.
“He’s so…” I tried to think of a better word, but I couldn’t. “Normal. That’s what he is.”
“Nothing wrong with that, as long as you don’t get bored.”
I said, “Not normal as in boring—”
“I know what you mean.”
I was standing in my little kitchen. I had too much energy to sit down. “It makes me wonder what it would be like. After Ian, you know? To date a guy who isn’t so goddamn intense all the time. Ugh.”
Even the thought of how I had to act around Ian was exhausting to me now. Who can maintain that level of submission all the time? And to think that all along I was trying to do it to please him, to meet his lusty demands, and he had manufactured the whole thing.
“You’re doing it again ,” Rachel said. “Don’t get worked up over him. It’s history.”
“I know. You’re right.”
I walked around my apartment, which didn’t take very long, but I had to move. I was walking in circles as I listened to Rachel.
“This was meant to be,” she said. “ I know you said the chances were a hundred percent, but seriously, think about what’s happening here. You have to see where this goes. Maybe this Sam guy is the one. Maybe not. But in the meantime, you could have some fun.”
“I’m not even thinking about that,” I said. And if she brought up the analogy about dried up eggs again, I was going to hang up on her.
“Yeah, you are.”
“I am? Do tell.”
“You’re definitely thinking about it,” she said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t ha ve spent so much time with him.”
“Okay, so maybe the possibility did run through my mind once or twice.”
“Or forty times. Remember when we went to see Friends With Benefits and No Strings Attached ? We were totally into the idea.”
She was right. When we saw them, we debated which was the better movie, and her bringing it up again on the phone started that discussion again. She liked the first movie, while I liked the second one.
“I could do that,” I said. “I mean, nothing’s happened yet.”
“ Yet ,” she scoffed.
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