Reappearing Acts

I ended up hanging out with Martin again last Friday night. We tentatively scheduled to meet up a couple of days before but made no solid plans. I was ambivalent about whether I actually wanted it to happen or whether he himself would follow through, so I ended up scheduling dinner/drinks with a girlfriend of mine for Friday evening as well because she seemed to be under the weather and to need some companionship.

So when Martin texted me that afternoon asking if we were still on, I decided to try and combine the two because I would’ve felt bad about blowing him off. I told him I was meeting up with a girlfriend and that he would be welcome to join. He was hesitant at first about “interrupting” but I assured him it would be fine. I also spoke to said girlfriend – Alana – and made sure it was okay with her. She, too, was reluctant at first because she felt like she would just be the third wheel on a date, but I explained that Martin was just a guy I had gone on one date with and as of now it was more friendly than anything. She was cool with it.

Martin and I live near-ish to each other, and the meeting spot was a spot in a city about 25 minutes away, so he offered to come pick me up. I accepted. I thought that was sweet. Dinner was at 7 so I told Martin to be at my house at 6:30. Between getting off work and then, I had to squeeze in a microblading touch-up appointment I had at 5 p.m. I ended up getting home a little after 6 p.m. with just enough time to spare to care for the cat and refresh myself before he was there to pick me up.

Alana ran about 15 minutes late, but when she arrived I introduced them and everyone got along well and dinner was grand. As it was Friday night and I hadn’t driven, I got a little bit tipsy and then came up with the grand idea of going back to Martin’s place with him to play video games (while Alana was in the bathroom). He was with it, so he took me back and I played about 10 minutes of Fallout 4 and we watched maybe 15 minutes of The Conjuring 2 before we just decided to hit the hay. We drank a little more at his place so I was quite inebriated. I had warned him beforehand that there would definitely be no sex due to the boob situation and he was fine with that. We made out some but that was that.

In the morning we decided to watch the rest of The Conjuring 2 and then he dropped me back home. We had discussed next hanging out on Wednesday. We texted intermittently for the rest of the weekend about our Halloween shenanigans and on Tuesday he did follow up about hanging out the next day, but I never responded. I don’t know why. Or, I do – just not feeling it. But I guess that’s “ghosting” and it’s mean and I should say something though.

Meanwhile, Ross is being quite persistent. I did respond to his mushy diatribe and basically told him I have some issues with men to work through. He responded with how he was “gravely” hurt twice and not ready to open up about it, but does want to hang out. He asked to bring me lunch at work the next day (Monday) but that was my first day back after being off for a week due to my boob job and I knew I’d have a mountain of work to catch up on, so I declined, but suggested maybe a happy hour during the week. He didn’t respond for a couple of days, then texted me on Wednesday about a buddy of his dying on early Tuesday morning from some sudden medical issue. I told him I was sorry but then I didn’t respond for the next few days even though he texted me every day thereafter. On Sunday, he asked why I hadn’t been responding and I told him I had had a rough, tiring, week. Which I had. My boss – who was the best in the world – was leaving for another job and it was her last week so it made me kind of down in the dumps all week, plus the effort of planning for a surprise send-off for her on Friday. I wasn’t getting a lot of sleep and really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anybody.

He asked why it was rough but I didn’t respond and then 8 hours later get a petulant “Hello?” so I finally ask what exactly it is he wants from me. He went into how he wants to get to know me…hasn’t met anyone else he’s had an interest in since meeting me…he has a “vibe it’s worth a try”…blah, blah, blah. I told him I may be willing to hang out and this pattern of texting ensues:

Ross

Jesus…certainly very persistent. I did finally halfway agree to a date for tomorrow night although I have a sushi lunch gathering at a girlfriend’s house in the afternoon and don’t really know how long that will be, if I will feel like going out afterward, or if I really want to go out with Ross. But then if I don’t, I guess I should tell him.

THEN, to top all that off, I get a text from a mysterious phone number yesterday afternoon soon after I got home from work. I tried looking it up in my email (I have an app that backs up every text I send or receive to an email folder, for situations exactly like these), but nothing came up. So after small bit of a song and dance about who it was, it turned out to be none other than Adam, the guy who unceremoniously kicked me to the curb last year.

So, it did just so happen that last week I got to catching up with my buddy, Clyde, who is a coworker of Adam’s. After the original implosion, I vented to Clyde about the situation in the hopes that maybe some of it would get back to Adam because I felt bad about my reaction and Adam had blocked me on pretty much every medium. And, of course, tried a half-assed attempt at smoothing things over with Adam that yielded zero results. Then I moved on with my life.

From time to time, although he had blocked me, I’d still see Adam in pictures on Facebook through either his job or mutual friends, but I didn’t particularly feel any certain kind of way and I never reached out again. A colleague of Clyde’s ended up adding me on Facebook, and I learned through pictures of his that he was friends with Adam as well, and possibly even a former roommate. I’ve never spoken to him though – not sure if he knows about me and Adam or not and it’s really not consequential to anything. In my Bumble travels a couple of months ago, I also ran across Adam’s profile, but I definitely swiped left. And that was about it as far as Adam goes until yesterday.

I was just texting with Clyde last week to catch up and I mentioned my boob job and joked that “Adam lost out,” but it definitely was not really for any purpose of trying to get to Adam – just an honest joke. But then come yesterday, Adam says that Clyde mentioned me to him the other day so he just thought he would reach out. We did some brief catching up and then he wanted to know “if everything is cool now.” I assured him I was over it. He then asked if I had any interest in talking to him. I asked what he would like to talk about and then he randomly asked how we originally met. I replied with “Bumble” and he said he just wanted to make sure it was me because it “didn’t sound like me,” whatever that means. I guess maybe he was expecting fireworks and a parade because he suddenly texted me out of the blue after that shit he pulled last year – uh, what exactly is it you want me to say?

Be that as it may, we ended up having cordial conversation for most of the evening. He did in fact try subtly sniffing around my status by asking “how the rest of the male population is treating me,” AKA “Are you single?” so I’m sensing a little interest there I think, although who knows if it’s genuine or it will just be the same shit all over again. He ended up ending conversation by saying he’s going to bed because he has to be up early. I bade him good night and that was that.

I figure if it was honestly just to “catch up” and see how I’m doing, then that will be the end of it. If he ends up texting me again, then I will know he wants more.

But what I want…I don’t really know.

Motion in the Ocean

The weekend before this past one I met Carly down at the beach. She and her mom had rented a condo for the week and she mentioned a little while ago that I could come down if I wanted, so I did. She and her mom rented the condo for Saturday to Saturday; I ended up going down a day early since my Friday was free and staying with them until Tuesday night.

Friday night was tricky because trying to find last-minute lodging for just the one night in an area that already demonstrates an impressive penchant for price-gouging  was not fiscally optimal. I was not keen on spending $200.00 for what would essentially amount to dropping my bag off, going out for the evening, coming back home drunk to crash and then leaving the next morning to meet Carly and her mom.

And thus, this was my first adventure with Airbnb. I had signed up to explore my options once in the past, but I had never actually patronized it before. It didn’t take me long to find a satisfactorily priced room a mere 20 minutes from town which was fine for my purposes. Just a quick Uber ride away to the bars. The room was $85.00 plus a $10.00 fee which put me at under $100.00, so that worked. Even with the cost of Ubering, it was still cheaper than a hotel overall.

The host was a single girl and her invalid dog (recent ACL surgery) who was very communicative in the days beforehand to welcome me and to make sure I found it okay. And I did. It was an older house, but well-kept and clean and suitable for my needs. The host was friendly and inviting. The room worked well for its purpose and there were no issues, but it did feel a bit uncomfortable being a guest in a stranger’s house while they are there. I interacted with her for a total of less than 10 minutes overall – when I got there, when I was headed out for the night, and then in the morning – and she was definitely nice, but it was just the slightest bit awkward. I’m generally a pretty fastidious person when it comes to neatness and cleanliness, but I felt an extra bit of obligation and pressure to leave as little mess and to make my presence as unnoticeable as possible. But all-in-all, it was good in a pinch. It’s probably better when you’re renting a spot that the owner doesn’t occupy. And what’s even better than all of that is not being the person who rents his/her space out to strangers – there’s no way in hell I could ever do that.

In any case, I went out to a couple of seaside bars for the night, got inebriated, and came home and slept until the mid-morning as planned. I explored the downtown area of the host’s town for a little while and then made my way to Carly’s condo.

As it happened, Scout was in town as well. He and his family had come down to a nearby city the day before to visit a son at college, and then on Saturday he would be sending his family home and staying over to hang out with some military buddies. We were in sporadic contact throughout the day and then once Carly, her mom, and I headed out for the evening, I told him where we were and he eventually came and met us with one of his buddies, Jake.

A glorious night of drinking and general camaraderie ensued. I’d met Carly’s mom before but had never drank with her – she’s pretty young-spirited and fun to hang out with. She got her drink on like the rest of us and really meshed with Scout and Jake. Carly had only hung out with Scout with me once, and that was WAAAAY back in 2014 when he and I first met, so it was great for us to all be able to interact together. At one point Scout asked me to ask Carly if she was feeling Jake or not. She said she wasn’t and I told Scout so but something changed at some point because when it started getting late we put her mom in a cab back to the condo and we went to chill with Jake and Scout in their hotel room.

Sooner or later Carly passed out with Jake in his bed, and thus Scout and I took the opportunity to have college-style sex (you know…the kind when other people are in the room) and then we followed suit with the sleep. We all woke up pretty early the next morning and spent a couple of hours fluctuating between conversations, sleep, and more sex (at least on Scout and I’s part). Before we left, Jake and Carly exchanged numbers and I hugged and kissed Scout goodbye thinking that he would be on his way back home after he spent some of the day with his son. Commence the Uber of shame.

Carly and I spent most of the day lying out by the pool during which she got several texts from Jake indicating that he wanted to hang out that night (even though he had to commute back home at some point to work the next morning). I would eventually discover through their conversation and then my own inquiries of Scout that Scout actually wasn’t leaving that day, but staying over until Monday. I hadn’t realized that before…I thought he was leaving after he spent the day with his son. I was happy to hear it though, because that meant another night with him.

Carly and I ventured out sans-mom in the early evening, not really sure when Jake and Scout would be showing up. We ended up hanging out with a nice group of guys who never let us pay for a sole drink the whole night no matter how much we tried. We actually left with them briefly to go to another bar, but we came back to the original one once one of their friends, who was a total dick, got kicked out of the second one somehow literally within 2 minutes of us getting there.

My memory starts fading as to exactly when Jake and Scout showed back up (this was vacation drinking we’re talking about, after all…not the run-of-the-mill sort). Per my texts, it was apparently close to 10:30 p.m., but I don’t really remember much about interacting with them at the bar. I vaguely remember us going our separate ways at some point – Jake and Carly back to the condo, me and Scout back to his hotel – and imploring Scout to order me a pizza, which I may or may not have eaten any of before passing out. The next thing I knew, it was 4 in the morning and I woke up in bed alone. I looked to the other bed, which had previously been Jake’s, and saw a figure there that I assumed to be him. But where was Scout? WTF! I found my phone and scribbled out a text: Where are you? Then I remembered the pizza and walked to the far side of the room to take a bite of a slice. When I was coming back over toward my bed, I looked to the shadowy figure in the other one and realized that it was, in fact, Scout. Oh. When I crawled into bed with him and asked why he slept apart from me, he said it was because I had passed out in the other bed diagonally with my limbs all askew, leaving him no room to get in. My bad.

We snuggled for the rest of the night, woke up the next morning and got some quick sex in, and then I texted Carly with my ETA and told her to prepare some sandwiches and liquor so that we could go to the beach. I helped Scout pack (or really, just oversaw it so that he was sure he didn’t leave anything behind), and then he drove me back to Carly’s and we hugged and kissed goodbye for real.

Carly and I did the beach thing for a little while, during which I had a visit from my old friend, Stallion, who works over that way now. I walked a little bit off the beach to meet him at his car on his way to a meeting. I hadn’t seen him in years. I’ve changed quite a bit physically since we last saw each other,which was obviously to his pleasant surprise. He didn’t look so bad himself. We had tentative plans to meet for lunch the next day, but that never came to fruition. If I had to take a gander, I’d say that was because he started sending me texts later that Monday night about how he was “thinking about me” and just generally flirty sentiments that made it obvious that he was hoping we’d hook up and I was so not even remotely into that with him. Ew.

Back to Monday: I noticed via Facebook that some acquaintances of ours were down at the beach too, so I got in contact with them and Carly and mom and I met them later in the evening for a grand drunken extravaganza. Carly ended up falling on the dance floor. I felt bad for laughing (then and still now when I think about it), but it was hilarious. And also our cue to exit. Poor thing…I keep telling that girl to stop with those high heels if she knows she’s going to get tipsy (she also fell Saturday night too in front of Jake and Scout).

We had a low-key Tuesday, as I had to hit the road at some point, which ended up being later rather than sooner. I didn’t make it home until after 10 p.m. but it was worth it. I feel bad because my aunt lives not far from the beach, on the way back to my house, and I told her I’d stop by to see her on my way back but I left too late to do that and didn’t call or anything. Ugh.

Not much to report for the rest of last week. I haven’t heard from or talked to anyone substantial. Friday night I was invited out to happy hour by a coworker. I hadn’t planned on going out but I decided to go for it since I knew I was staying in for most of the weekend. I went and saw some old friends and had a good time. Elliot ending up coming out and being quite friendly. Definitely not the way he is over text. But later as he got drunker he started talking about how in love he is with his girlfriend. *Vomit* Not that I care as I’m not hugely into him like that as it stands. Okay…I care a little. But not, like, significantly. Whatever.

The majority of my Saturday consisted of vodka and season 2 of Narcos on Netflix, which was another Grand Slam.

On Sunday, my friend Hannah and I met at the mall and I spent about $500.00 on clothes that I didn’t need and can barely fit in my closet. But it was retail therapy for Hannah’s benefit because she’s going through a tough situation concerning her husband and his evil ex-wife. So, I think that’s excusable although I really don’t need to buy any more clothes for the rest of the year.

Hannah is going with a group of girls back to the beach next weekend to HER condo, and I’ve been invited along. I wasn’t sure how in the mood I was for it, but she sounded disappointed when she sensed my hesitation about it, so I told her I would come. So first thing Friday after work, I’m heading down again. Just until Sunday this time. I’m sure more drunken antics will ensure.

In the meantime, I’m 5 pounds down at least.

The Case of the Missing Phone

You never really know what it is to suffer until you drunkenly accidentally leave your cell phone in the back of an Uber. (First world problems.)

That was to be my unfortunate fate on Friday night after hanging out with a girlfriend and getting a tad bit inebriated. I woke up Saturday morning to a missing phone that I surmised I must’ve left behind in the Uber I took home.

I have a program I can use to track my phone (thank you, Lookout Security!), but it was going straight to voicemail at this point when people tried calling it so obviously the battery was dead. I proceeded to try to track it anyway, but as expected, the site was having problems picking up a signal.

Trying to resolve this issue with Uber was like pulling teeth because it can only be done via email and while customer service is fairly quick to respond, it was a hefty delay in them being able to get in contact with the driver, which became frustrating. I was 95% sure my phone was left in the Uber because I would’ve needed it at least up until the time I ordered the Uber to go home in the first place.  There was a 5% chance I may have left it at the bar, but I didn’t think so.

The problem was that Uber was giving me the runaround about being able to reach the driver to actually confirm whether it was in fact in his car or not. I guess he wasn’t working at the time. Meanwhile, I can’t really be sure if I in fact DID leave it in the Uber, although I’m quite sure I did, or sure that even if I did leave it there, that it wasn’t kidnapped by a subsequent rider.

Lookout actually got a signal from it and sent me an email around 4:15 p.m. on Saturday to tell me they had it “near” a certain address in a town about 20 minutes away. My first thought was maybe that’s the Uber driver’s residence or something, but when I looked up the homeowners on Facebook  – an innocuous looking married couple  (I am an expert stalker, thanks) – the husband was definitely not the driver. So then I thought maybe they had taken the same Uber after me and picked my phone up for safe keeping or something?? I don’t know, but I was desparate. I relayed this information to Uber and asked if by chance they could tell me if the driver lived in the town in question at least, but they didn’t answer. I mean, I guess that makes senses in terms of the driver’s privacy, but I didn’t really care about that at the moment.

So what do I do? I drive to the house, of course. I ring the bell and the wife answers the door and I apologize for bothering her and the odd circumstance, but does she know if anyone in her house has a random cell phone? She looked at me like I had 3 heads and answered in the negative. I smiled and thanked her and did a prompt about-face. My bad.

So clearly the Lookout GPS is not exactly accurate, but it did give an error margin of 20 meters or so and unfortunately this happened to be a community of townhouses. So while my phone was not actually at the poor little hassled housewife’s address proper, it was probably in fact somewhere in that neighborhood. I briefly toyed with the idea of knocking on a cluster of doors, but I wasn’t quite ready to stoop to that level of obnoxiousness.

So alas, I returned home still phoneless and frustrated, starting to resign myself to the fact that I’ll just have to have my phone company replace my phone through my insurance plan, which would cost me a deductible but still be cheaper than buying a new one. I wasn’t particularly worried about pictures because I back them up constantly through Dropbox and thus rarely even keep pictures on the phone itself as I can just access them through the Dropbox app, but I knew there was some stuff that was stored on the phone itself and thus would be irretrievably lost and a pain to reproduce. Like my calendar information, to-do lists, etc.

Oh well. No one’s fault but my own.

I woke up Sunday morning to Lookout advising me that they had tracked my phone around 10:30 p.m. the night before to ANOTHER town about 35 minutes away from me this time. So my phone was on the move, it seemed. But getting farther away. Not good. I was still holding out hope that it was actually in the Uber itself and that some random person had not found it and taken it. I emailed Uber my findings and concerns in an exasperated tone, explaining how the chances of recovery fade for as long as they cannot get in touch with their own employee and he possibly starts driving and accepting more rides which exposes my phone to people that might be tempted to pilfer it if they find it in lieu of him.

Lo and behold, I was able to breathe a sign of relief when they wrote back a little while later and told me the driver had in fact recovered my phone. They asked where I lived; I gave them my address but added in that  I’d be willing to meet him wherever. They wrote back that he had my address, but also gave me a contact number for him to make arrangements. At this point it was later in the day and pouring rain and I was relieved at least that I knew where it was so I figured I’d just wait until the next day to call him somehow and make arrangements to get my phone back. I’d already gone over 40 hours without it, I could survive another half a day.

How pleased was I when, 2 hours later, my doorbell rings, and it’s the driver with my phone. My precious baby! He insisted it wasn’t necessary, but I gave him 20 bucks. He came all the way back to my house to return my phone in rather nasty weather. It would’ve cost me more than 20 bucks plus a fair amount of time, effort, and inconvenience to replace my phone, so it was more than worth it to me.

CRISIS AVERTED.

I am glad I got my phone back, of course, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world being out of touch. I wasn’t dare going to try to attempt any outings without a cell phone, so I stayed close to home all weekend and got the chance to partake in an interesting series on Netflix – Slasher. Rather gruesome, but intriguing and spooky and a storyline that seems all over the place at some points but ends up making sense in the end. I liked it.

In other news, this morning I ran in a Memorial Day 5K. I allegedly ran 3.1  miles in 25-something minutes, which I have to doubt the validity of being as running is not at all my forte. But I’ll take it. It was all for a good cause. Elliot ran in it too. I don’t think I’ve seen him in person since St. Patty’s Day. We’ve texted here and there since all our near-drama or whatever to call it, but his response rate is still severely lacking. Even still, we were able to have friendly conversation in the midst of other people, which is the way it should be.

Aaaaaaaaand, I reset my Tinder account. Starting fresh. I had accumulated upwards of 710 matches yet obviously I’d not gotten anywhere substantial with any one of them, so what’s the point? Reed and I were still matched on there. Unfortunately, I felt the need to wistfully peruse our 9-month old conversation and that made me reluctant to even reset my account for some reason – like I wanted to remain connected to him somehow. For what, I don’t know. I highly doubt he’s even active on there, being as of a few months ago it appeared he was back with his homely red-headed Marine ex-girlfriend. He probably deleted the app from his phone but doesn’t realize that you have to actually delete your account BEFORE you delete the app, otherwise your profile will still show up even if you don’t have the app on your phone.

But I managed. I reset it. Goodbye, Reed. We haven’t spoken since November, so, I had nothing to look forward to there anyway. Just memories of a hopeful era that has long-since been incinerated to ashes. I did take screenshots though. UGH.