Dantrums

I don't mean to gloat, but tonight I got the boy I've been wanting. This didn't happen because I'm a smoothie, because I'm not; it happened because, if I may say so myself, I timed it exquisitely. It goes without saying that I'm pretty bad at hitting on guys, mostly because the guys I actually put effort into are gorgeous; so when I finally do weasel a way into hanging out with them, I usually get an arrhythmia thinking about how gorgeous they are and how impossible my task is. I had moments like that tonight--- nausea and fantasies of flight. But goddamnit I grit my teeth, dug in, brought it on, took it to the hole...haha!....closed my eyes, drank a couple of whiskey and ginger ales, and somehow everything worked out.

Again, it didn't work out because I knew what I was doing, or even because of the alcohol. It worked out for one reason: It was time. Our interactions were pretty good from the beginning, and there was the intense physical attraction (at least for me). It occurred to me that I should ask him out the first night I met him but this was impossible. I was too scared. Not doing it was risky however, as he only worked once a week and my schedule was fairly haphazard. He didn't like working there, and I thought I might never see him again after our first meeting. But if I asked him out the first night it would've put him off. Plus, he commented on how skinny I was, and that's not exactly a come hither compliment. As it turned out I'd see him every few weeks, and the gaps in time proved serendipitous. We'd speak more and more each night, getting more comfortable, the conversation building potential, but there was a certain glow and urgency to everything (at least for me) since I wasn't sure when I would see him next. Then, on the fourth night something changed. I sensed him warming up, sensed an opening. I had no idea how long it would last. If I waited too long, he'd think me aloof and move on, or start to consider me a platonic friend. The time to pounce was now. I think if I'd waited another few weeks or so I still would've been succesful, but not more than that, and any earlier would've been too early. It's like Brenda says on Six Feet Under to the lover she lost and will someday regain: "The more I live the more I think it's all about timing." He easily could've have stopped working, and then he'd be just another boy that I regretted not going for.

The asking out itself turned out to be easy. We'd just confirmed with each other that we both liked boys (this is often an necessary step for two boys who aren't obvious if there's no outside party to confirm it for them) We continued talking but were at work and kept getting interrupted. He: We should continue this conversation another time when there aren't tons of people around and it isn't so awkward. Me: Ok. What are you doing tonight after work?
I don't deserve much credit though--- he set me up for the easy volley and I returned.