Out of the Frying Pan

Well I like someone again. And to feel for someone else after the previous debacle (the source of which I will affectionately refer to from here on out as Adolf because I truly do believe he is a depraved, psychotic asshole and I will get around to writing more in depth about it eventually, maybe) is a relief because it means I am truly over him, but there is only a dead end at the end of this tunnel and I already know it so I’m not going to bother deluding myself about it.

I was still kind of reeling from the Adolf implosion when I matched with Ben on Bumble 9 days later (August 21), but I found him especially attractive with those high cheekbones and teal colored eyes. Not to mention that he looks quite dashing in an Army officer’s uniform. He stood out from the normal Bumble crowd immediately and I was excited when we matched. I obligatorily initiated conversation soon after and we mutually engaged without hassle.

He expressed reticence very early on about our distance, which was actually about 20 miles exaggerated to the north at the time because I was at work. However even normally he does live about a 45-minute drive south of me. I guess that’s maybe far or maybe not, depending on how much a person is worth to you. In any case, the conversation kept up and we even got around to making hang out plans for the next Tuesday that same day. He expressed an interest in FaceTiming beforehand, I guess to make sure he wasn’t getting bamboozled, which I thought was pretty smart and even better than a phone call.

We ended up doing so the next night. I’m Team Android though so he had to settle for video chatting through FB Messenger. He did once again express discontent with the distance factor, commenting that he didn’t think he would be able to go without seeing a girlfriend during the week. I mean, we don’t really live THAT far where we could only see each other on weekends, but whatever, dude. It was kind of annoying that that seemed to be some big hang-up of his, but besides that the conversation was not lacking by any means.

After we hung up he followed up with several amusing video clips of him good-naturedly harassing an older female colleague at work that he had described as his “work wife.” Around that time I took it upon myself to take a glance at his FB page, and what do I spy but a picture of him in early July with a female, captioned with a seemingly excited tone with “she’s in town.” Yikes. Knowing that he had only been re-stationed in this area since June, I made the assumption that this have been some type of girlfriend from his previous assignment. Or maybe even the one before that. Or who knows. There were no more pictures of them that I had access to from his page, and there was no tag for her to try to creep on her end. Nevertheless it was clear that this was some kind of special person to him, and that it was definitely a romantic scenario as inferred from some of his FB friends’ comments.

Well, damn. Slightly disappointed, but oh well…only a guy I knew from Bumble for 18 hours. Maybe I should’ve let it go then, but it felt good to actually be attracted to someone else and thus feeling like I was almost over the Adolf hurdle, so I ended up reaching out to him again through Bumble the day following the video chat and we chatted like normal. I didn’t feel like I had the right to question him about anything like some crazy person, so I didn’t.

I met Carly at the beach for an extended weekend and ended up staying 2 impromptu extra days, so we didn’t meet up that next Tuesday after all. We were still sporadically conversing through Bumble over that time but it was mostly me just being drunk and saying stupid things or sending suggestive pictures. I had kind of already written him off as a dating prospect so I wasn’t really caring about trying to present the best impression of myself, but I was still highly attracted to him and still interested in at least something, so I suggested the following: “So I feel like we probably shouldn’t date…but should have sex though.” He said that was fine if we hit it off. And then cue several bouts of x-rated conversation. And giving him my phone # so we could transition to texting, which he did pretty promptly.

We ended up making plans to hang out that Sat (Sept. 2) at about 5, originally, I think. We talked that morning to confirm and he gave me his home address. I knew it was just supposed to be a hookup type of thing, but I still didn’t really feel comfortable starting things off that way. I suggested maybe we initially meet somewhere in public that is nearby, and he suggested a local bar. Cool. But then that afternoon he started trying to push the time back 2 hours to 7 because of “college football.” Gee, thanks. I was annoyed because I felt like it was just some type of head game, so I suggested 6. We agreed on 6:30. Fine. Oh but then I get another text right as I’m about to get ready to suggest pushing it back to the next day.

Um, no. I told him I had plans. I really didn’t, but no. Because first I got the “college football” bullshit and then now he was telling me how tired he was from running and working out. This all from a guy whose Bumble profile featured a mini-rant in it about people making plans and then not sticking to them. Right.

A minor skirmish ensued through a series of ensuing texts where he told me that if I wanted to just come to his place and bang and then leave then that was fine, but he’s just tired and not leaving his apartment today. And I, in turn, got irritated because although I knew it was kind of just a hookup, I didn’t really want it to be so overt. When I contested that, he sent me a screenshot of my fatal Bumble drunken rumblings about just sex and then reiterated in so many words that he didn’t want to date someone so “far” away. Whatever.

I stopped answering after a while and went out and ate Mexican food and drank margaritas and felt better. But then the next day I felt kind of bad because I did give him a hard time even though he was just freely going along with what I said was cool. So I tried to be nice and flirty and essentially get us back to solid ground again, but his responses were terse and I wasn’t really feeling like his interest was anything but “Eh…” The last thing I said to him was that he was a hard nut to crack. He never responded and I resolved from then on not give him the time of day any longer. So I didn’t.

I noticed later that week that he had deleted his Bumble account. Not blocked or unmatched me because the conversation was still there, but he was showing up as a “Deleted User” and I had never seen that before and so had to do some research into what that means. It definitely just means he deleted his account altogether and not me specifically. So I figured he had found what he was looking for and was now out of the game. And maybe felt a small pang of regret at not having gotten the chance to meet him, but oh well. I had started entertaining an Air Force guy  who I saw a couple of times that week and was semi-interested in for all of 4 days, but then that ended up fizzling out and I was back to the  status quo.

Ten days after Ben and I last talked, I’m minding my business at work when I check my phone to find a FB message from him. It’s a video clip of him staring into the camera with those pretty eyes while eating a sweet potato for several seconds, culminating with him waving and and blowing a kiss. WTF?!

I asked him if that was meant specifically for me and he says yes. Okay, random…but then “catching up” conversation ensues. We eventually get around to agreeing on trying the hanging out thing again and decide on that Friday evening. It’s clear his motivation is sexual, but I’m perfectly with it this time.

I get to his area on Friday around 8 PM. Although he knew I was coming at this time, somehow he is still just finishing up a treadmill run and still needing to shower, so he meets me outside of his building and gives me a fist bump as a greeting since he’s sweaty. Even still, he’s tall and broad and cute. He takes me in his building and up to his apartment, which is kind of high end and very nice. He turns the living room TV on for me and promises me a quick shower. I take that opportunity to assess my surroundings.

As I’m exploring, I notice a birthday card on top of a pile of books. The outside looks benign enough, so I decide to be nosy. I already had a feeling, and yep…there’s pretty much a love letter written inside. Someone addressing him as “my love” and declaring that the best gift she can give him for his 38th year is her love and then signing off with a pet name. Cute. Oh well. Not anything I didn’t expect, given what I saw on his Facebook timeline. Whether it is the same girl or not, I have no way of knowing.

After he gets out of the shower and gets himself together, he offers me a drink. He happens to have some vodka and 0-calorie flavored seltzer on hand – perfect! He fixes it for me but I only get a couple of sips in before he wants to show me the view from the roof. We take the elevator up to the roof level, where it turns out there is a pool and a little clubhouse setting with an outside seating area. Pretty sweet. It’s a warm, clear night so we sit outside on patio for a little while admiring the view and talking. But then I’m ready to get back to my drink so we go back to his apartment.

We settle on the couch and talk while I sip my drink. I think he had opened a beer initially, but didn’t like the taste or something, so abandoned it. He’s very talkative and we converse for maybe an hour or so before he wants to take things to the bedroom, which I was ready for by then. Decent sex, nothing mind-blowing. The first time with someone is always a little awkward. He had to keep pausing from time to time so he didn’t cum too quick, which I guess was admirable, even if annoying.

After we finished, he offered me another drink. I took him up on it and he had a beer this time and we sat on the couch talking for another 45 minutes or so. I was worried about my car because the parking is atrocious in the area and so he directed me to park in a Whole Foods lot which is only good until about 10 PM, so around that time he walked me out to my car and that was that. Good times, I guess.

I thought he was hot and nice and that the sex had potential, but I left with the full intent of leaving it at just the hookup and not making any more contact. But around Wednesday, curiosity started getting the best of me. I just wanted to see how he would react if I said something, I guess. Or if he would respond at all. I messaged him with something silly and he replied. Eventually I added on “maybe we can do it again some time.” He said he hoped so and then told me to let him know when I’m free. I asked about either Friday or Saturday. He said he’d let me know the next day. The next day when I didn’t hear anything, I asked and he said he’d tell me later because an old girlfriend was going to be in the vicinity, but that he does want to see me again. “Oh” was all I could muster….not sure what I’m supposed to say to that. He never got back to me, as expected, since Ms. Ex-girlfriend was clearly going to be the priority, and I refrained from reaching out the rest of that day and Friday.

But then on Saturday morning I sent him a video of a military-related comedy skit. He responded and we had a little bit of an exchange that was positive, I guess. On Sunday I asked if he would be up for something during the week, and he responded affirmatively and we decided on Tuesday evening.

My arrival Tuesday night was almost exactly identical to the first time. I got to the area and parked, only this time in a metered space on the street that was now outside of payment hours and thus free.  He was once again just finishing a run and thus super sweaty when he came out to meet me. We walked up to his apartment and he took a quick shower.

No offers of drinks this time though – he pulled me into the bedroom soon after the shower and wanted to get the party started immediately. We warmed up and got to it and it was definitely much better the second time around, having now a familiarity with his body and how he moves and what he likes.

He wanted to take a break eventually and so we paused and laid around under the covers talking for about an hour or so. About murderers and work and exes and lions and tigers and bears and all that good stuff. There was no cuddling, but I had a hand on his chest and he had his on my thigh most of the time. When he was ready to go again, we got back to it and finished up.

It would’ve been nice to have been offered a post-coital drink again, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. After we were dressed and back out in the living room for 20 seconds, he said he would walk me out. But maybe I was just the littlest bit disappointed and it showed because when he came over to give me a hug he commented that I’m being “awkward.” Nope, everything is fine. When we were waiting for the elevator, I had my head turned but I could feel him staring at me. I looked at him and asked what was up and he said “Nothing.” Weird.

He walked me outside and back to my car and kissed me goodbye.

As I was driving home, I realized two things: (1) I like him. He’s cute, smart, funny, fit, active, and a good lover and I like talking to him and being around him. And (2) That’s the last time I will ever talk to or see him.

I think he would be up for banging me again if I reached out, but that’s all he is interested in and it’s not a good situation for me. Any attempts for me to try to take it to a dating or relationship level when I knew what it was going in would only end disastrously. We had a good time and I don’t want to mar that with drama, so I’m just going to wean myself off of him and leave it at that. It would be nice to hear from him again, but I’m not going to hold my breath or try and force the issue.

My persistent problem with men, which I think is a function of my semi-Type A personality, has been that when they are clearly emotionally unavailable from the get-go (like he is), or even if they were once into it but start growing aloof, I have a tendency to be a chaser. Not a good look.

He’s a great guy though and I will think of him fondly.

Laser TMI

My life isn’t really that interesting at the moment. But on the plus side, I get a lot of sleep these days due to my lack of adventure.

The most exciting thing I can say I have done lately is to have a nice young lady zap my vagina and surrounding nether regions with a high-powered laser in the first of 6 sessions I am embarking upon on my quest for permanent hair removal.

It’s something I’ve had in the back of mind for quite a while now ever since my falling out with my wax salon last summer. Since then, but for the time Scout treated me to a “sugaring” procedure the next day, I’ve resorted back to shaving due to a basic laziness-based disinterest in putting forth the effort to find another suitable waxing facility. The problem with shaving is that I have coarse hair down there and am thus subject to in-grown hairs that lead to bumps and scarring and do not allow my vagina to live up to its full beauty potential. Even keeping the shaving to the barest minimum I can tolerate if I don’t want to look like a wild jungle bush woman, which is every 2 weeks, doesn’t help matters.

I typically have resilient skin which fades scars well, but essentially re-irritating my skin every 2 weeks with the shaving hinders any progress. Once I started waxing regularly, my skin down there was doing really well, but shaving has sent it all back to hell.

My only initial reluctance in trying laser hair removal centered on fiscal concerns. Carly had gotten some done a while back and I remember her saying it ran her a little over a thousand dollars. So as far as I was concerned, it was something that I COULD spring for if I had extra money to blow or saved up for a little bit, but it wasn’t going to be a high priority expense.

But recently I was doing some browsing on Groupon for travel purposes and saw that there was a category for laser hair removal specials so I started exploring some of the options. Firstly based on price and then secondly on reviews. When pricing out anything with many options, I definitely try to go cheaper than the most expensive, but am also wary of anything that seems too-good-to-be-true cheap because that usually means too cheap to be good.

I found some appetizing deals for 6 sessions, which is a standard minimum course of treatment, but then the Groupon fine print became a separate issue. The Groupons were only good for 90 – 120 days for the most part, which only gives you 3-4 months to complete treatment before the special expires. Laser hair removal can only be performed every 5-6 weeks due to the hair growth cycle. Lasers can only target hair follicles in the actively growing stage, so that’s why multiple sessions are necessary. So 6 sessions for one area would take a minimum of 7 months. If I only have up to 4 months to use a Groupon, that presents a problem.

In any case, the place I narrowed my search down to was sold out of 6-session specials for a “large” area (which would encompass a brazilian) anyway. But I liked their reviews so I decided to call them to explore pricing options without going the Groupon route. I called last Thursday and they invited me in for a consultation that evening.

I liked the setting and the doctor seemed like he knew what he was talking about. I am considered a good candidate because I am fairer skinned with dark hair, so the pigment contrast helps the laser target the hair follicles more accurately. He also explained that laser hair removal is actually not literally “permanent,” as hormonal changes could renew the treated follicles or whatever, but that successful cases may only require a touch-up once or twice a year or so.

Cool. I’ll take that over waxing or shaving regularly any day. I was offered 6 sessions for $697.00 for full brazilian removal, which included a discount for buying the sessions ahead. Let’s see…I got waxed regularly for 18 months every 5 weeks at about $55.00 a pop, so that was almost $800 spent right there for only temporary results. SOLD! I scheduled my first session for that Saturday.

I was nervous about the pain factor. I heard everything from that it feels along the same as waxing to people making it sound worse than natural childbirth. For me, it was about the same as a wax. At least for the first session. The technician said she starts out “conservative” for the first time in case your skin doesn’t take too kindly to it. I suppose the next session might be a bit more intense.

Time-wise, it didn’t take more than 10 minutes. It’s just a zap to each spot and then she moves on to the next. It was so easy that I made a game-time decision to throw in my underarms as well. They still had a Groupon available for 6 sessions for a “medium”/underarm area that was so cheap that I wouldn’t even have been that worried about it expiring before I could get through all 6. But she told me I could just bypass the Groupon and buy the 6 directly at the same rate, so that’s what I did. So she did my underarms as well.

The only thing I’ve noticed over the past few days is a minor itchiness, more so in the underarms than down below. And that is normal. I can’t really tell if it has worked thus far. You have to be shaved before each treatment, so it’s not like you can literally see hair falling out. I won’t be able to tell until my hair down there starts growing back. I shave my underarms daily so that won’t be a good gauge, but I intend to forgo shaving down there altogether (except for bikini line maintenance) except for when my treatments come about so I should be able to see progress when it grows out each time. The treated follicles, from what I understand, should shed hairs and at least be growing in thinner or not at all, so I think what happens is that as you go along, your hair starts growing in patchy (the technician described it specifically as “zebra stripe” pattern), and as more of the follicles get treated as the sessions go along , you will have 80%  or more hair reduction.

Exciting, huh? Maybe not really…

 

La Dominicana

I ventured to the Dominican Republic a little over 3 weeks ago. It’s kind of an annual tradition for me and other friends that have birthdays around the same time and whoever out of our general group of friends and acquaintances wants to tag along. We have done it for several years now. It’s usually been around 10 to 12 people, with a mix of couples and singles, but this year, due to engagements and weddings and all that jazz, there were only 4 of us – myself, Carly, our friend Chico, and his girlfriend.

As previously touched on, due to my witching hour date with Adam I ended up not sleeping at all the Friday night before and thus by the time he dropped me off at the airport in the wee hours of Saturday morning for my 6:30 a.m. flight (the first of 2), I had been awake for almost 24 hours. So I was pretty exhausted, but the commencement of “vacation drinking” with Carly on the journey gave me an extra boost of energy and resolve. We had a brief layover in Florida but otherwise the flights were pretty painless.

We landed in the Dominican shortly after 1 p.m. to be shuttled off to our resort. Chico and the girlfriend were on a separate flight but we were all due to end up at the resort around the same time. We ended up connecting for a late afternoon lunch once everyone had gotten settled in. We had some tentative intentions on trying to get out that night but everyone had established that they were tired from traveling so it wasn’t looking too promising.

Carly and I went down for naps right after lunch and ended up not waking up until almost 10 p.m. By that time  we didn’t feel like freshening up or leaving the room. Nor did Chico or his girl. It was raining anyway so that made it feel like not too much of a waste. Carly and I opted to sip on some beers from the fridge and order room service.

The waiter who brought our food was a suave looking Dominican gentleman whom Carly took a liking to. Somehow, although he didn’t speak much English, some flirting between them went on that culminated in him coming back to our room for a late night visit to see her when he was done with work. My memory is fuzzy because I was tired and tipsy, but I don’t think much went on that night between them. At least not in my presence.

When we ordered room service again the next night – I think just for wine – it ended up being him again. And yet again somehow – I think they were using Google Translate – this resulted in yet another late night visit. But this time he brought an amigo for me. A person who appeared to be one of the cooks, as denoted by his uniform and accompanying hat. I was not into him whatsoever but I played the good wing woman inside while Carly and waiter guy (we never knew his name) went out on the balcony. This consisted of us sitting awkwardly beside each other passing my phone back and forth to speak through Google Translate, as he also did not speak English. While my basic Spanish isn’t too bad, conversational Spanish with a fluent speaker is not really my forte. It didn’t matter, as I was not feeling him at all, but I at least wanted to be polite. He did end up trying to solicit besos (kisses) from me but that definitely wasn’t happening. I was glad when they left.

The majority of the trip entailed our normal modus operandi: pool/sun/drinking with bouts of eating activities sprinkled in during the day, a resting period in the late afternoon, then getting dressed for the night and venturing out to one of the resort restaurants for dinner and the nightclub thereafter.

beach
Fun in the sun

For a lot of the time I had seen few people on the resort who piqued my interest in terms of being attractive while also not appearing to be in attendance with a significant other. However, it was at the nightclub on Wednesday night, while we were all kind of huddled around each other just drinking and primarily watching the dance floor, when I spotted a tall, blonde guy who looked particularly yummy. He was standing slightly behind us with a male friend. No females in sight.

There was an instance where I mistakenly backed into him (an actual accident…not to be confused with “mistakenly” where I might do it on purpose to get someone’s attention). I turned and apologized and that garnered a smile in response but not anything else. Drats. I kept my eye on him on the low and noted that he didn’t appear to be there with any women so I felt like that was a good sign and started trying to work up the courage to initiate a conversation.

It was around this time that Carly started being semi-annoying, as she was a little drunker than I was. She seemed to be halfway entertaining some Canadian guy but then would turn her attention back to me to babble and distract me while I was trying to scope out blonde guy. She eventually insisted I come outside with her while she smokes. This entailed exiting the club, walking through an open-air court area, and out into the open. I resisted at first, trying to hint to her that I was scoping out someone and didn’t want to lose sight of him, but she kept bugging me about it so I acquiesced. The club was only one way in, one way out, so I figured I’d at least know if he left.

We walked out and I kept her company while she smoked and talked about this Canadian guy that she claimed she couldn’t stand and wasn’t interested in but kept talking about so as to make it obvious that she was interested in him. Standard Carly.  Finally the cigarette was down to the filter and put out. Okay good…back to the club and blonde guy. But then one of the resort workers was riding by and apparently took a fancy to us because he slammed on his brakes and started conversing with us. We spoke back for 5 minutes or so to be nice and then scurried back inside.

I went in and did a scan. And of course as luck would have it, no blonde guy. REALLY?! I took a couple of trips around the perimeter just to make sure, and yep…gone. He sneaked past me somehow. I was blown and lamented to Carly how her high priority smoke break had cost me the only decent guy I had seen on the resort so far. Oh well, back to drinking.

Not long after, we decided the club wasn’t really hitting the spot so we decided to take a break from the deafening music and retreat to the bar outside in the court area. There were seats for people at the bar as well as tables a little ways off closer to the open entrance/exit. It was just me and Carly at this point – Chico and girlfriend had left to rest for an early-morning excursion.

We sauntered out to the court bar and who do I spy with my little eye sitting with a group of people at one of the tables off yonder? Blonde guy! He hadn’t gone after all, I just hadn’t noticed him on my way back into the club even though I had walked right past him. But now it was he and the male friend and several other people of mixed sex sitting around the table. There was a girl or two around his age, so my hopes were instantly shattered in thinking that perhaps one of them was his significant other. However, further observation kind of dispelled that hypothesis as he didn’t seem to be sitting particularly closely with anyone and there were no obvious signs of intimacy. It was hard to call it either way, but even if just family or friends, there was no way I was going to go hit on a guy within a group of people.

Carly had other drunken ideas though and kept intermittently looking over to try to make eye contact with him even though I implored her to forget about it. I wasn’t sure exactly what her plan was, but after turning way for a matter of seconds I turned back to find that just that quickly something had taken place. And it appeared to have failed miserably as she was suddenly motioning toward the club doorway for us to go back inside and exclaiming in a slightly amused, but slightly sheepish tone, “We have to go back in, NOW.” My eyes widened in surprise as I had no idea what had taken place in literally the 3 seconds I had my back turned, but the implication was that it had been something embarrassing, so I followed her back in the club at once.

When we were safely inside she explained that just as my back was turned, he looked over toward us and she made a welcoming arm motion to implore him to come over and join us. He only looked at her with a look that, by all description and imitation, seemed to be something like this:

nah

Yikes! Poor girl. But she took that hit for me…awwww! The things you do for friends. And yet, even as we were standing there talking about it, and just as I was making a mental note to chalk that one up under the “Definitely Not Interested” column, lo and behold, blonde guy walks into the club. Even before I could signal to Carly that he’s back inside so we could make a hasty escape out of his path and tuck our tails between our legs elsewhere, he spots us. And makes a beeline right over.

He comes up and smiles. I smile back and speak and Carly speaks as well but then takes right off and leaves me to it. And there I am, staring dreamily up into the blue eyes of blonde guy, who apparently turned out to be interested after all.

It turned out that he was German and spoke very little English. Thus his seeming distaste at Carly’s grand invitation earlier was apparently not that at all but maybe just genuine confusion and surprise. Maybe he didn’t know how to interpret it or whatever. In any case,  a limited bout of small talk ensued, sponsored by Google Translate. He was named Franck, 31, and from Thuringia, Germany. And he thought I was a “very nice girl.” We had a drink together and “talked” the best we could; eventually he asked if I wanted to come back to his room with him, which he was staying in alone. Sure…why not?

As we walk out through the court I see Carly sitting at a table with her Canadian beau du jour and one of his friends; I notify her that I’m going with Franck and tell her to have fun.

We got to his room and started making out pretty heavily, yet since no one had a condom handy, the possibility of intercourse fell off the table. We fooled around for a little while longer in light of that fact but then I realized I was tired and figured that since this wasn’t going any further for now, it’d be best for me to get back to my room. As I got up to start gathering my things together, he motioned for my phone to type. When he handed it back, the translation read: Will you stay with me?

Aw. I thought that was kind of sweet. Okay…fine. However, so as not to have any misunderstandings, I clarified that it was just for SLEEP. As in slumber. He concurred. And thus I settled back into bed with him and rolled into his arms. His hands roamed around a little bit but he didn’t protest when I eventually guided them back up to PG territory and we settled into slumber together.

I set my phone alarm for 6 a.m. so I could wake up and skedaddle back to my room before the resort started waking up and my walk of shame became too obvious. When it went off and I got up to get dressed, he got up too. He told me he wanted to walk me back to my room. Aw, again. What a gentleman.

I must say though, it’s maybe a little awkward to walk with someone for 15 minutes with no ability to make casual conversation. It would’ve been too cumbersome to try passing a phone back and forth while walking coupled with me simultaneously trying to remember how to get back to my room (he was staying in a different tier of the resort). But mostly it was peaceful. And trading smiles and glances back and forth said enough, I guess. We even both caught the humor in crossing paths with an extremely loud stray cat. That thing was mewing loud enough to wake the dead.

I lost my bearings a bit trying to find my way back from his side of the resort, but eventually some landmarks started looking familiar and I knew I was close. Thank goodness. I was yearning for a little more sleep and then some breakfast. When we got to my building he walked me up the stairs to our second-level door and then we kissed goodbye. He managed to reiterate the word “pool” in English to remind me of his previous mention of being there around 11 a.m. I told him I’d see him there and then went in.

But alas, I never saw him again that day. I kind of forgot the fact that his pool was different from mine and I wasn’t going to make the trouble of going over to his to find him. Then for that night Chico and his girlfriend were pressed to go to the Hard Rock Punta Cana, so we ventured off the resort by cab and got a one-night pass there. It was underwhelming. From the way they were so pressed to go, I thought it would have 24K gold floors and actual angels from Heaven as bartenders. But no…just pretty much a normal Americanized nightclub with a glitzy atmosphere whose patrons maybe had a little more money, as it costs an arm and a leg to stay there, but weren’t anything special otherwise. We were there for under 2 hours before we decided we wanted to go back to our resort. To which we went back and walked in to a completely dead nightclub. Like, we walked in and there was literally NO ONE in there but the workers. It was only around 1 a.m.

But there were still some scattered people at the court bar so we hung out there for a little bit. Two Argentinian guys starting talking to us and we ended up walking over to the late-night buffet with them to get food where I fended off the advances of one of them. He proclaimed that we were destined for a love as great as that of “La Diairo de Una Pasion.” That would be the Spanish title of “The Notebook.”  No thanks. He was cute but kind of corny and I was in no way interested in “making love” as he had suggested at some point (maybe playfully, maybe not). I was all too happy to have eventually convinced Carly that we should get back to our room for our “Big Last Day” before she found it in herself to hook up with the other one and thus invited them back to the room or something so that I had to entertain that fool any longer. I was NOT going to have another awkward chef incident.

kitty
My stray kitty friend

I never did see Franck again.On Friday it rained from sunrise until the mid-afternoon. A hard, steady, monsoon-like rain that precluded any breakfast or pool activities for that period. I was up around 8 o’clock doing some light packing in preparation for leaving the next day when there was knock at the door. I froze, thinking perhaps it was room service guy for Carly. We kind of made it a joke that we wanted to avoid him; he had called the room at certain points for Carly but she didn’t want to hang out with him again. Thinking it might be him, I didn’t move. When the knock came a second time, I said, What the hell and decided I’d just answer and tell him straight up. I was to the door within maybe 10 seconds of the second knock, but when I opened it there was no one there. I stepped outside and scanned to see if anyone was walking away or anything like that but I didn’t see anyone whatsoever, which was mildly unsettling. It was a pretty open area…not sure where someone would’ve gotten off to that quick.

When I thought about it later, it occurred to me that waiter guy had never come during the day, only at night. So then I got to wondering if it could’ve been Franck looking for me. That night I got dressed and to out with Carly for a little bit even though I was beat at that point and looking forward to getting back home. At dinner, which was an open-air buffet situation, I ran across the same cat that me and Franck had seen together. He or she was running among the tables obviously looking for food. I ended up calling it over and feeding it some scraps for a little while. It ate right out of my hand – my own ignorant cat doesn’t even do that.

I tapped out after an hour or two and left Carly on her on so I could go back to the room and rest. Chico and girlfriend didn’t come out at all. I had asked Carly to let me know if she saw Franck at the nightclub. She messaged me close to 1 a.m. telling me he was there. I kind of did want to go out to see him one last time just to say goodbye, but ultimately I was just not at all able to muster up the energy to do so. I wish I had gotten his last name or Facebook ID or something at least. He was a nice guy. And a tiny part of me feels bad thinking that maybe he thinks I ditched him purposely or something and maybe it really was him on Friday coming to see where I was.

Oh well.