Sunday, November 06, 2016

Zöe 3

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Dear Ryan,

Ugh, I feel awful.  Not a stomach bug like you had but sick to my stomach in other ways.  I sort of got trapped into going out with Coffee Guy and it took me most of the evening to find the steel I needed to stand on my own, which I did.  It’s like you’ve told me, I need to assert myself because I’m good enough, smart enough and people like me.  More Al Franken from SNL!  I’ve become quite a fan.

Anyway, I got trapped by my, I don’t know, eagerness to please, to accept a dinner date with Coffee Guy, whose name is Aaron.  I sort of said yes, OK, fine or something like that and before I knew it he had arranged a dinner date.

Believe me, Ryan, I would have SO MUCH rather have spent the evening with you than Aaron, but I was stuck.  I tried to make light of it in my previous note to you but it was not light to me.  I was torn, wanting to be with you and having committed my time to this guy.  But, a promise made is a promise kept, so I went through it.

It was horrible, absolutely horrible.  Not in an epic disaster kind of way but just as an evening of me thinking about my weakness and wanting to be with you.

Aaron picked me up at the hotel in a very flashy car.  Some kind of expensive Beemer.  It was just all shiny and smelled new.  Aaron chatted about all the things his car could do, driving me insane with stupid detail.  I just smiled and put up with it.

Irony upon irony, he had booked a table at Pico’s.  Yep, that Pico’s.  I thought, “I could be here with Ryan,” but I’m not.  We ended up in a “snug” booth in the bar room and Aaron sidled up next to me instead of across the table.  I was very uncomfortable which he may have sensed.  He asked, “Is it OK if I sit here?” and I said, “Yes.”  What else could I do?  He kept bumping against me, touching me.  I was counting down the minutes to get out of there.

He talked about himself most of the evening.  I got a few words in edgewise, but I soon lost any interest in carrying the conversation as he seemed to have no problem.  He looks upon himself as a “mover and a shaker” talking about his office politics and how he was maneuvering this and maneuvering that.  It was quite obvious he was interested in “maneuvering” me.

I picked at my food and hardly touched my drink.  After coffee he suggested we go somewhere for a nightcap because the “night was young.”  Seriously, does anybody still say that?  I told him that I had a presentation to finish and an early morning but he became more insistent.

That’s when my steel spine kicked in. I pulled out my phone, cued up the Uber application and ordered a car.  Aaron saw what I was doing.  It was amusing (I am so bad!) to watch him try to scramble out of this situation.  The bottom line was that I had my own means.  I didn’t need for him and his expensive whatever Beemer to take me back to the hotel or anywhere else.

Uber, as usual, was three minutes away.  I got my stuff, thanked him for a lovely evening, assured him I would be OK and left.  I put my phone to my ear faking a call, and walked straight out of Pico’s without turning around.  Fortunately, Uber pulled up like magic and I made my escape.  I didn’t even look back to see if Aaron had followed me out the door.  I didn’t care, either.  I started laughing which surprised the driver who asked me if I was OK.  Finally, a sincere guy.  I told him I was OK and he got me back to my hotel.

Ryan, I know I’ll chicken out and not send this but I would want you to know, somehow, that I run into so many Coffee Guys, you have no idea.  I thought the world was filled with Coffee Guys until I met you.

You’re different.  You see something in me I can’t even describe.  I don’t know why but I feel you really care about me and not for your reasons but for mine.  I think you genuinely care about my work, my well-being and me.  That’s very special.  You know I’m such a klutz when talking about myself.  Well, I’m a klutz in everything!  I never feel like that when I’m with you.  I never had,  I just don’t know ho

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I’m in a bit of a panic.  I was writing out my thoughts about this evening never meaning for anyone to see them and sent them to you by mistake.

Please, we need to talk.  It’s all my fault.  I can explain.  Maybe I can’t explain.  What a mess.

Call me tomorrow or I’ll call you.  We need to talk.  Don’t think the worst.  Trust me, please.


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