The One That Got Away
And so I return.
I have lots to write about today. Hopefully I can cover everything I wanted to, but I'm sure I'll forget something.
Life on the homefront is okay. Hub has gone to pick up my favorite step child, Hilda. hoo-ray. Fortunately, she's going over to her little friend's house overnight. All of a sudden, the little *beep* wants to come over every weekend, much to my dismay. I think she only wants to come over so she can go hang out with her friends. I told Hub if that's the case, her dumb ass mother can cart her ass to her fucking friend's house. She wanted to go live with her mom, who lives about 30 miles from here, so she can make friends out there. Whatever. I'll end this now, cuz it's just bitterness and hostility on my part, and I'm supposed to be the adult.
Back about 9 years ago, I worked at a large toy store for about a year. It was a pretty fun job, except for the whole retail part and dealing with asshole customers. When I was there, I became extremely attracted to an older man who worked there as a manager. I'll call him "Patrick". Patrick was 11 years older than me, I was 24 and he was a worldly 35 years old. He was about 6 feet tall, slim build, dark eyes and his hair was a full salt and pepper gray, but his face was handsome and young-looking and the gray was incredibly sexy to me. Kind of like Richard Gere. And he was very charming, and I am and always have been a sucker for charm. We worked closely together during the Christmas season and flirted quite heavily. He was really into music as was I. Somehow or another, I found out he was into the band Ministry and I thought that was incredibly cool, especially considering his age. We started trading CDs with each other. I was so strongly infatuated with him that I was completely convinced I was in love with him. Seriously. I still feel that way today, I was in love with him. The store had a policy against management dating employees, even though there were two other manager/employee relationships going on, everyone knew but it had to be discreet. By the way, both of those couples got married and still are today. My infatuation reminded me of the Police song, "Don't stand so close to me", because he was older and in a position of authority over me, I felt like the schoolgirl to his teacher. Anyway, it was months like this. Then, he was getting promoted and moved to another store. It was like a sign. On his last day at our store, I returned some of his CDs, with a little note inside one letting him know I'd like to get together and giving him my number. He didn't find it right away. A day or two after, he returned to our store for a meeting and I asked him if he'd found my message and he hadn't, but he let me know he'd be looking for it. He called me a few days later and said he was interested, did I want to go out to lunch one day. Oh yeah. I think it was like 5 or 6 days until that date, and I was going nuts. I actually had a date with him! I even got my grandmother excited about it, mainly I think cuz he was French-Canadian like us but also sounded like someone who had his shit together.
We went out for lunch on St. Patrick's Day, 1995. It was by far one of the best dates I've ever went out on. We stayed for about 3 hours, ate lunch and drank about 4 or 5 beers each. When he dropped me off, we had a major make out session in his car. I felt like I was a young teengager making out for the first time. He was an excellent kisser. He had me. I was really head over heels. A few nights later, he called and said he'd be in town, did I want to go out for a few drinks? We went to Chili's and drank and talked, it was great. When we left and got to his car, I pounced him and started making out with him. I remember him saying "You're quite perceptive" about my pouncing. We made out hot and heavy in his car. There was some feeling up involved as well. Unfortunately, I lived with my dad at the time, so my place was out of the question, and he lived in a town about 20 miles away, so that wasn't very workable, either. We had to end the night. Otherwise, I'd have had sex with him that night.
This is where it starts to suck. I never heard from him after that. I was absolutely devastated. For whatever reason, it didn't work for him. I felt like an idiot, being so devastated over a guy I'd only been out with twice, but I really felt alot for him. Actually, I did bump into him about 5 months later at the company picnic, and we ended up going out with a bunch of other people for a few drinks after. He walked me to my car when it was time to leave, and we talked for a few, adn he started touching my face in a way that was obviously hitting on me, but I didn't see that then. I was too afraid to act on it, I didn't want to get my hopes up again. Anyway, I did see him again a year or so later, we chatted but that was it. I still think about him to this day, he really is "the one that got away" for me.
Anyway, the point of my story? At work, one of the women I used to work with at the toy store is a customer of our's. She still works there and is well connected with the gossip. I'll call her "Mary Ann". Mary Ann and I started chatting the other day about what everyone at the toy store was up to. I had the balls to ask about Patrick. He still works for the company, at a different store, and just got married last July to another woman who works for the company, a woman I worked with. She's a few years younger than me, by the way. This news has brought out jealousy in me. Here I am, nine years later, married to someone else, and I'm frickin' jealous cuz he's married now. To HER. Is this ridiculous or what? It's just plain silly. I don't get it, but that doesn't change the way I feel.
I've got to cut this short. Hub and darling Hilda are home, and my privacy on the computer has ended.
I'll be back.
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