a story to tell

Thanks Erin, for the kick in the pants...

This is a [long, messy] post I've been meaning to write for a while. I swear to god all of this is true:

Last fall, I went on a few dates with a musician/philosopher friend of a friend; let's call him Craig. The chemistry was good, it seemed to me we were equally neurotic people, so far so good. But he always seemed a tad unavailable when we were out -- I knew he really liked me, but he didn't seem interested in me (in dating me).
And no, it turns out he wasn't gay.

He said he had long complicated ex-girlfriend issues, so after a bunch of mixed signals I lost interest in this troubled soul, and New Year's Eve I hooked up with another guy, who seemed totally great. Not to mention completely built. Let's call him Chad. Chad and I played phone tag for a while, then finally got together in late January. We'd already seen each other naked, and it seemed like the official first date would be a mere formality, it seemed like a sure thing.
So I go over to his house, and things are bizarrely immediately off. We end up going out to rent the 40-year-old Virgin, which is hilarious but not the best seduction movie. And he keeps his distance the whole night. Total washout. But hey, he made me wear dollarstore flipflops in his apartment (asian style i guess, but it came off as white trash), so I'm pretty sure I'm better off without.

Anyway, as we were going out to rent the movie at the start of the evening, we're crossing St-Laurent at Pine and who is standing directly on the corner in front of me but Craig, the guy from the fall. There was no way to avoid him. Totally uncanny. We said "hi" followed by "how are you" followed by "see you around, bye". I knew what he was doing in that hood, he was obviously making a beeline for Elsie's, but still, the timing was something.

So a few hours later, the whole slowly embarassing evening is over with and I'm standing on the sidewalk just before midnight. Am I going to skulk home? Hell no, I deserve a drink and I know where I can get some flattering male attention at the saem time. So I went to Elsie's, and caught Craig (with his friends) just as he was putting on his jacket to leave. I charm him into sitting back down with me while I have a vodka, I tell him the story of the evening, he tells me that the other guy is crazy not to have declared his love for me on the spot. And yes, Craig still thinks I'm completely fabulous.

Then he says he has news to tell me, and I say jokingly: "you're engaged!". And yes, he was.
He had spontaneously proposed to his girlfriend over New Years. Now we all know that "spontaneously" here means "drunkenly", and his "girlfriend" is his ex who he "worked things out" with over Christmas. I suspect the reconciliation involved swallowing a few truths, a shot or two of pride, and a liberal dash of unrealistic optimism mixed with insecurity about aging and the future. (sorry that's a shitty recipe, i'm a lousy bartender.) And la, my amateur therapy practice got a new client.

So lo and behold, in one night:
- a sure thing turned into a disaster, but only a mildly humiliating one
- and the only other person I've dated in the last 4 months turns out to be engaged

All this happened in late January, sorry for not posting til now. I'm still kind of scared my mom will find this... (she's a librarian, she can find anything)