Mr. Jersey

Yes, I met ANOTHER guy last night. Actually we have been talking for a few weeks, even before the Holidays. I was suppose to join him for dinner on the Wednesday before Xmas, but being ON Call that night, I had to cancel to go off to work. He is nice, and cute, and we get along great. I was actually nervous to meet him, which is a first for me in awhile. When he suggested just drinks…I decided that was the way to go, drinks could be just the liquid energy I needed.

I am not sure what to call him…He is from New Jersey, lives right outside of the Big Apple. He is here in Beantown on Business. When we first started talking, he said he was here for a few months, why not get to know someone—maybe even move here someday. I am at the point of the dating, where talking about something in the future for me is not an option. I have no desire to know what will happen in 6 months, let alone next week. Ok, we know this is partly true…but if I tell myself this enough I will believe it.

So, on Tuesday night, I had plans with him, and he wasn’t feeling so good…so he canceled…so I made new plans with Mr. Narrow. But as I’m going out the door, Mr. Jersey (sounds like a good name for him…it sort of fits) tells me he has some bad news. I’m like ahhh ok…. And then proceeds to tell me that he is being moved to a Chicago office, and isn’t staying here…just another week. Well Shit….

I was like ok… well its not like you asked me to get married or anything…and this whole time I do feel like I’m lying to him some, because there is Anchorman…which he obviously has no clue about. So… after deciding that we still wanted to meet…who the hell cares at this point what tomorrow brings.

So Last night, Wednesday night, we decide to meet for drinks. He made me meet him at his snazzy hotel. I think he wanted me to see it, to impress me in some way. I’m not a materialistic girl, so it was nice and I was a little wowed---but that wasn’t going to make or break it…come on now. I sat in his lobby waiting…and waiting…hmmm aren’t the guys suppose to wait for the girl—not the other way around?

He walks toward me, and once again I’m a little taken aback by his size. Pictures are so deceiving. You can never tell how tall someone really is or what size ass they really have. But he was still cute…but I wonder about him. Is that bad of me to comment on? I wonder about his real sexuality… maybe he is in denial. Although there was one time we talked…and he did say he was gay. Then he laughed…saying I’m kidding. But is he? Or maybe I’m so used to Anchorman…or all the other non – metro sexual guys I’ve been around this last year. I have no idea, because once we sat down, and I was looking at him across the table, I got over this…he was just like any other guy.

Maybe it’s the sweeties, and honey’s he throws my way. And since moving here, you don’t hear any sort of endearments what so ever…besides the negatives.

I mean he was nice; it was nice…we had so much to talk about…or maybe it was the wine? But he had traveled a lot…and I had lived in a lot of places as well. He was very intelligent, knowing more about politics then I cared to ever know about. I talked about how much I had changed in the last year, which is something no one really knows about…well no one new that is.

And, because he had a great smile, and we seemed to get along great, when he asked me to hang out next week, I agreed. Why not? Who knows, in the past, I seem to have always fallen for the metro sexual…so we shall see next week what will happen next.