How I got here continues.

Dearest Pitcher of Margaritas,

Look at you with your promise of carnal delights and entertainment.  Yes, you.  You make this promise to me every time you show your pretty face on my menu.  You little tart!  And yet you rarely come through (for me)!

You leave me frustrated, awake and unable to find a warm pair of socks at 3 o’clock in the morning.  I do not find this endearing.

By the way my cats thank you too.  You’ve made their mommy quite obnoxious for a good bit of time and completely unaware of their need for fresh water and/or escape from the madness.

Okay, enough about her….

Didn’t I start telling you all the story of how I got here?  Yeah, yeah, and I didn’t start at the beginning, well, because that would make sense and be completely predictable.   Also, I was sorta young and don’t remember a whole lot about having my own diaper changed and how my parents felt about me at the time.  So lets just jump ahead about 27 or so years, shall we?

When we last spoke, I told you about how J had finally broke it off after living with torment that was me for about 3 years.  San Francisco had welcomed me into her warm and weird arms and I was living the life of a single woman, on my own for the first time in my life.

It was wonderful and entertaining and sometimes lonely.  But after the breakup, I hit the ground running.  I was certain I needed a man in my life and I was going to find me one.


My first “connection” was with JL.   Jewish copywright lawyer living close to Lower Haight next to a restaurant he ate at most nights.  I never understood why a grown man lived the way he did.  Was he supporting his mom (who conveniently lived in Hawaii, whew!)  His bed sat in front of his closet that had no doors.  None of his furniture matched (in ANY stretch of the imagination) and his fridge held beer and milk.  The man was a LAWYER folks!

Anyway, he also made an impression.  After our third date he said to me (the then manager of  Lucky brand jean store) “you don’t even have clothes to wear to the symphony!”  Um, dude, have you looked at your apartment?  You don’t even have closet doors!

But I did buy a (what I thought was appropriate) long slinky black dress (Von Furstenberg…so you know this puppy will look good for a good long time!) and a few other more age appropriate items for “just the occasion,” which never happened.

JL introduced me to some good restaurants around the city and sex that was so not worth remembering.  It was just not good.  Folks, I really don’t know why I dated this guy.  He was okay looking, didn’t call with any regularity and we didn’t really jive.  It just made no sense.

The last time I spoke with him is memorable though.  We had gone out for Indian food, which was excellent by the way and then saw Hannibal.  (I LOVED it!  Wasn’t crazy about Silence of the Lambs though)  I don’t recall much else of the evening.  JL unfortunately had LAZIK surgery scheduled the next morning.

Several days went by and I hadn’t heard from him so I thought I’d better check to see how the surgery went and how he was doing.  He started to retell me about the procedure and found himself grossed out.  Dinner and Hannibal left him ill prepared and he then had to relive his own horror over the phone to his girlfriend.

That was the end of that one!

Wow that was easy!

6 Responses to How I got here continues.
  1. Florida Dom
    May 16, 2010 | 9:03 am

    Very interesting. Hope you continue the story and say what happened next in your life.


  2. Coffeypot
    May 16, 2010 | 11:35 am

    Well, the what you did wrong was date a lawyer. Yeah, the sex was bad. Their idea of sex…Two lawyers are walking down a street when this gorgeous woman walks by. Lawyer #1 says, ‘Man I would love to screw her.’ and the other one say, ‘Outta what????’

  3. RawknRobynsGoneBlogWild
    May 16, 2010 | 12:37 pm

    Love your writing style. Sorry about the Eagles, but thanks for coming by. I think I'll be your newest follower; I like to connect with other feisty women.

  4. Blissed-Out Grandma
    May 16, 2010 | 2:58 pm

    Margaritas always interfere with my sleep, plus even half of one gives me a headache. I loved the lawyer story…. more, please.

  5. otherworldlyone
    May 17, 2010 | 1:26 pm

    Who cares about the closet doors? If the sex sucks, I'm not sticking around.

    Loving this story!

  6. MommaKiss
    May 18, 2010 | 9:45 am

    Um. I'm SO curious now to know if he ever found true love. With another lawyer who doesn't have closet doors. And is just as boring in the sack.

    Also, how's the relationship w/ he hipster? You hook up yet?

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