Ask xTian - Breaking Up The Tension

Former Hoser DZB1 checked in with this email to me today
From: DZB1
To: xTian
Re: Spontaneous Masturbation

...So this girl im dating and I are having a robust(I dare say arguement)about her boyfriend. She says she wants me to be her main boyfiriend now that the summer has ended(along with his usefulness of having a house in the Hamptons) and the fall is approaching. I state that although Im flattered by her offer I'm content with being the number two man. This rejoiner for some reason causes her to "tense up' so in the middle of our conversation she pulls down her pants and starts masturbating herself. Although I am not one to state the obvious i had to ask, "Are you masturbating yourself?" "Yes," she says, "I'm tense and this helps me relax."

Any thoughts on this issue? I'm telling you this because I'm hoping that you of all people sum it up in that wry way you have.
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Well DZB1, this is certainly a pickle. In the past, when I've been presented with such a situation I have considered two options (1) look around for something to steal and quietly excused myself or (2) jump in for some angry sex.

These are the obvious things and I am sure you checked off these options as sub-optimal given the obvious depth of your relationship. Here are a few options might have failed to consider -
1. Say something like "Oh OK, let me know when you are done." and find something to read. The Atlantic has some good stuff this month
2. Watch it go down. If she at all closes her eyes ask accusingly "Who are you thinking about?" and demand that she focus on you
3. Invite a friend over. I'm usually very busy but Mr. Shoulders has nothing going on at work. He used to play basketball for two hours a day but recently broke his finger so now he can't even do that. Besides, I think Mr. Shoulders still thinks he can beat you at spades, you gotta remind him who is boss. If he does come over, stare at him while he stares at her. He hates that. I paid a stripper extra once to stare at him from across the room while she gave someone else a dance; he got so upset he tried to leave
4. Hold her and cry a little. Chop an onion if you have to, there is no better way to deal with an awkward situation than to escalate it to its illogical conclusion

Awesome Typo

Did anyone see this slideshow on the NYTimes web site this morning? This screen capture is a bit too fuzzy to read, but here is the text:

"Former President Al Gore, the founder of the media company that employs the journalists, hugged Ms. Lee. The two women who were stopped on March 17 by soldiers near North Korea's border with China while researching a report about women and human trafficking. They faced years of imprisonment in the gulag-like confines of a North Korean prison camp."

Ahhh, the New York Times. It doesn't matter how much you WANT it to be true, Al Gore was never the President.

Incidentally, did anyone else think that Euna Lee was much cuter in these photos than she appeared in that one picture the press has been showing of her since she was captured? Maybe she should write a book: Lose Weight and Look Great with the North Korean Hard Labor Gulag Diet.

The Universe of Attractive Women

I got into a rather involved conversation with Lil A the other day that just has not left my mind. Somewhat randomly we started discussing 500 Days of Summer and its potential as a movie (solid) and a soundtrack (incredibly high). This conversation took us to Zooey Deschanel and inspired me to write this. Somewhere in there Lil A challenged me to categorize ZD as "cute" or "hot". Arguing that she was more than likely "cute' given her height (short).
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I was bothered by this. I don't think height has anything to do with hotness. I asked her if Katy Perry was then hot by virtue of simply being a taller version of Zooey Deschanel. She said yes. I pushed back. I agreed ZD was "cute" and KP was "hot" but height had nothing to do with it. Katy was also slutty and that's what makes her hot. Zooey Deschanel, more than likely has a great sense of humor and that makes her cute.

I expanded on this later at a taco truck - to myself of course - Lil A had long since gone home to focus on more practical things - her forthcoming wedding maybe. There I came up with 4 buckets; I think they are mutually exclusive and completely exhaustive (MECE). I think you can take any woman you have ever found attractive and place her into one and only one of these buckets.

HOT - Sex. Thats the first and primary thought that comes to your mind; stuff like "Is she en route to getting sex?", "Is she coming back from having sex?", "how likely is she to have sex with me?", "Is she glistening because she is in the throes of sex right now and not because its the middle of July". Examples include: Katy Perry, Megan Fox

CUTE - In a coffee shop, overhearing her speaking to someone else, you can't help but smile or maybe laugh - maybe she's charming maybe she's funny. She's awesome - it takes ten words to notice her but once you don you're done for. Examples include Zooey Deschanel, Parker Posey (mid 90s), Jillianne Harris from the Bachelorette (but only right after make up)

BEAUTIFUL Borderline abstract. She is the first person you notice in the coffee shop. She photographs impeccably. It's hard to not weep. Examples include Jennifer Connelly(forever), Alexis Blendel

LOVELY - There is a classic-ness to the look of women in this group, they are attractive not only today but would be at any point in the history of humanity. A section of this group is also reserved for women from other groups who have crossed their mid 40s. Examples include Leighton Meester, Catherine Zeta Jones


I think this is right. Thoughts?

Crush of the Week: Gail Simmons

Last night was the season finale of Top Chef. Much to my delight, occasional judge/food sexpot Gail Simmons showed up. I love me some Gail Simmons. Here are a few reasons.

• She's not super thin, which is important if you are supposed to be a food expert. How can I judge your expertise if you don't look like you can eat? I'm looking at you Giada. Clearly this woman can eat.
• She has that sort of crackly, smokey voice. I'm into that. I'm a sucker. Voice is surprisingly important. I mean the Padma is gorgeous we all know this. That said, if I had to listen to her speaking cadence every day I might chop my ears off.
• The last thing, I am too much of a gentleman to mention, but let's just assume I picked this photo because it calls attention to one of her better physical assets.

Manolo Goes On A Date (aka Original Date or Die)

(Author's Note: Unlike some people at the Hose, Manolo has a real life so he was never seriously emotionally wounded when he was unceremoniously dumped from The Hose...At the same time, Manolo never left. He comes back to check upon The Hose every 4-6 months to see how this gang of misfits is holding up...For example, I have noticed that xTian and Evil have taken my original date concept and run with it. Kudos to them...In fact, I hope they never go through some of my worst moments and refuse to pay medical bills...In their honor, I tell the following tale of woe...)
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My name is Manolo and I have a disease. I am too picky when it comes to women…I seem to be looking for perfection in a world where imperfections are what makes us unique. These imperfections (real or made-up) are used by me as nothing but as a shield not to get close to somebody. Every time I met a new woman, I would ask myself if she was girlfriend/wifey material…If she was not, I would use these imperfections as reasons to abandon the possibilities of what may have been and focus more on short-term satisfaction of physiological needs…Don’t get me wrong, guilt-free no-strings-attached sex is great but like every man before me, I have a hunger for something more…I have arrived at that point in life where one longs to be one with somebody for more than a couple of hours (who am I kidding? I meant minutes…but best 4 minutes of your life…wink!)…

Therefore, I am trying to be a little less picky…a bit more open minded. I am trying hard about overlooking imperfections and giving everyone a chance…

Two weekends ago, I went out to paint the town (color didn’t really matter) with some friends...We are at this trendy lounge when this young woman walks by and catches my eye…what was not to like…tall (5’9’’), slim, red hair, blue eyes, smooth porcelain-like skin…

We seemed to really hit it off. In fact, we spent close to 5 hours together (last 2-3 hours walking down the beach). At the end of the night, we exchanged phone numbers and we went our separate ways, but not before agreeing to meeting once again.

As I was driving home, I kept going back to two things that were holding me back….One of them was her accent. Don’t get me wrong, I like accents. I think they are sexy, especially in the throes of passion. In fact, I am such a believer in accents that I went out and got one of my own. Nevertheless, her Russian accent meant that I found myself at times asking her what she had just said. The other thing was that she has a small mole around her lip…I then told myself if Cindy Crawford has it, why not her? I noticed I was falling into my old patterns so I decided then and there to give her a chance…

I spoke to her a couple of times on the phone and after finding out that she loves the beach, we agreed to go to the beach for our first date. I pick her up and as we are driving to our destination, she starts talking about Halloween and how she needs to buy a costume…I don’t know why she is looking for a costume since the outfit she has already makes her look like a Russian sailor (white short shorts, blue and white striped shirt, hat, sunglasses, pig tails). I think she looks very sexy but afraid of how the comment may be construed, I keep it to myself. Taking a cue to be spontaneous, we drive to a Halloween store I passed by on the way to her house to try on some costumes…Some of them were too hot to handle on a first date but I did not care…if she did not like seeing me in a Hooters outfit, perhaps she shouldn’t have looked…

Anyway, we finally arrive at the beach where I proceed to impress her by breaking out the blanket, a bottle of champagne and a full spread of cheeses and fruits…We sit there talking watching the waves crashing upon another…we start feeding each other and at one point, I drop an apple into the chocolate. I pull the apple out but my finger is drenched in chocolate…she laughs, jumps towards me and cleans my finger dry…I didn’t need another hint…I put a drop of chocolate on her cheek and I clean it…she then puts some chocolate on the tip of my nose and she cleans it…I put some chocolate on her lips….

All of a sudden, we are rolling on the blanket squishing the occasional strawberry or grape as we jockey for an ideal kissing position…From time to time, I put some chocolate on her neck or shoulders or thighs and kiss it away…I put some on her stomach and then….

I see it…I had felt something but I thought it may have been the shorts or the shirt…No, it’s not what you think…you see, my Russian sailor has an outie…I have only seen outies in the belies of malnourished third world children so imagine my surprise…

You would think that if you ever ran into one, you could just gnaw on it…maybe even treat it as a kind of a third nipple…

I guess I am not a better man after all...Back to the drawing board...

Listen to your body tonight...

Inexplicably, I was stuck in Los Angeles this weekend trying to commute home. I missed a connection. It was no one's fault but my own. It was a reach to think it would work out for me anyway. I had 18 hours in LA and nothing to do.

A quick scan of my cellphone address book showed three people I knew in LA. None were around to entertain me. Finally, I called Sparks, hoping his brother-in-law was in town. Catjjy informed me he was not. I was left alone, in a nice hotel bar, exchanging glances with several other gentlemen who like me were wondering where all the women were.

I finished my drink. Outside, on the curb, I sat near some smokers hoping someone would engage me in conversation. An affable valet who asked me what i needed

"A plan?" I arched my eye brow...a cool breeze hit me...

"huh?"

I explained that I was stuck and no one I knew was around. He nodded knowingly...

"Nah, doooooood, you know what I do when I got nothing to do around here?"

"shoot somebody?" I thought to myself. Somehow I lacked the courage to say that out loud. He reminded me of Miguel...the way he uttered "dude" took 3 seconds to long, just like my old friend and he was of course Mexican

"There's a strip club up the street just past the Hilton"

I nodded and sat there for a while. I don't go to strip clubs, not anymore anyway. I outgrew that, or maybe I just stopped going because Manolo, Sparks, The Bumpasaurus, Jazzy, TMO, Evil, Balls Mahoney, KenTak3, ET #1 and 2 and Mr. Shoulders all stopped going...they were the ones with the problem, not me. No one more so than Mr. Shoulders of course...

(One second, Let me see if there is anyone left for me to throw under the bus about going to strip clubs...umm...no...we're good)

Bored with the stream of cars pulling up to the Hotel, I drifted off walking in the general direction he pointed.

It was a bit further off than he implied but I found it easily enough. The place was horrible. The front was a sex toys shop,around back, in an alley, there was a sign that said "Live Nudes". An adjoining door had a small cage surrounding it, for smokers apparently. Promising.

The patrol cars parked outside, sealed the deal for me. I would go in...

Walking in, I scanned the place as I ordered a cranberry juice. It was a typical California dive, decorated by a wannabe cowboy in 1975 then never considered again, the floors were sticky. There were red disco lights everywhere.

I took a seat amongst what looked like a small eclectic collection of bikers, airport attendants and cholos with nothing to do. I felt comfortable at first, my catholic middle school had much the same demographic. Then I remembered High School. The likelihood of my ass getting a shiv for being mouthy was growing by the second.

The announcer mentions that it is 2 for 1 time...and a row of women poured out of the back room. I was surprised; these were the prettiest strippers on earth. It's LA, I guess that's how it works when the top 5% of America's beauties move here every year. Not everyone gets to be Vicky Christina Barcelona

Eventually, a Hawaiian stripper approached me. After half a joke that was not at all funny, she walked me to some back closet with a couch.

"It's thirty, but for an extra twenty you can touch anything but [down there]"

"wow" I was glancing around...this is where the cops bust in, I just know it.

"yeah…for 30 bucks more than that…"

"that's fine, I'll take a number 2" I interrupted her mid sentence...I mean who knew what she would say next…and what I would then be implicated in...

Back at the stage, I sat down and started texting…a dancer asked me to stop as it was rude for whoever was performing.

"That's fair"

I turned my eyes back to the show. A large brother (let's say he weighed 4 bills) looked my way

"Damn, this place is off the hook"

I wondered why he was talking to me. I mean that girl there is showing him the goods and he's looking to me for affirmation. What could I, a total stranger, do for him? Where is the woman in leopard print telling him that talking to some dude you don't know is just as bad as texting. Where are the manners? Society is doomed.

Soon another stripper, (who looked disturbingly like the Ecuadorian girl from Cheetah Girls on the Disney Channel) informed me that her booth was way in the back and very private.

I said no, and went to get another cranberry juice. I have been very worried about toxins lately.

After working every other deadbeat in the room she came back and sat near me. I bought her a cranberry juice. We discussed natural antioxidants at some length - that and the nature of beautician school. It was here that I learned that the extra thirty led to "hand work"...

This place might have been something less innocent then it first seemed. At this point I decided to clear out before Vice busted in...

Back in the parking lot of my hotel, I ran into the valet. He offered me some green and a seat in a Porsche that was parked there for the night.

Not sure what else to do, I followed him. He dropped the top and we sat there scoping out the stars. I asked him if we were going to take the car out for a spin.

"nah homes, i don't do that no more"

smart dude

How prostitution works in Shanghai

"Ok, let's play a game"

"Ummm... like Beirut or Flip Cup?" Clearly I was confused. The fellow I was with had been in Shanghai for 4 months, and was here on an expat assignment. He was clearly amused by whatever trick he was about to show me.

"No, no...Look over at the bar. What do you see?"

I looked past the loud Australians, just past some confused Americans on holiday and to the left of the Shanghainese fashionista couples to look at the bar. A row of well heeled, classy women sat at the bar, scanning the room.

"Several bored women"

"they aren't bored. They are waiting."

"For?"

"Some are part of the house, they work here and come sit next to you so you can buy them drinks and what not, thus running up your tab. Others, do not work work for the place. They work for themselves. They offer you a massage back at your hotel and then, after a little haggling, its good to go"

My host was enjoying himself too much. I pointed out that I could not tell which was which and besides i was fine drinking a low ball. This was a really nice bar, very upscale. I was surprised this went down here. Oh well...when in Rome

"you're a putz"

Best New York Times Article Ever

If you are like me, you read the New York Times almost every day. Paper of record, they say. Your web administrator can’t get on your case for having it up at work. But, if you are like me, you also find the Times wonkish, stuffy, and sometimes downright gloomy. What you really want is barely clad foreign girls writhing to techno beats and practicing stripper moves, not Paul Krugman bemoaning the Fanny Mae bail-out. You want something with absolutely no news value whatsoever, that still comes from a respectable source.

Well, the Times must be conducting market research, because they are finally getting it right. I present for you The Best New York Times Article Ever, complete with web video.

Desperation Infused Vodka

"A few more of these and we can forget this ugly little sidebar in an otherwise lovely conversation"

He said this as he knocked back a shot of vodka. She smile just a little, letting the joke wash over what was an awkward situation. Though he knew her for only a few hours it was not the first time she had smiled. Her smile had been wide and bright for most of their conversation. She lost it right after giving him her number. Right as she regretted doing so and repented by admitting she had a live-in boyfriend.

xTian had noticed her as soon as she seated herself at the bar. She sat down and knocked back her first shot without a word to anyone. She had short hair, like a mid90s Winona Ryder, an above average ass for a white girl and a big smile. Her arms were well toned, she was also not wearing a bra at all...just a form fitting vest that covered herself well enough. xTian was no longer sure what he noticed first, it must have just been her overall

This was of course their 4th shot and he was still going strong...There was a lot of time and money invested here and there would be some return, something had to give...

"Another?"

"Sure?"

He had started by asking her why she was taking shots of vodka by herself. She admitted she was a waitress in the back room and was used to making hundreds of dollars in a given night, tonight she had made just 50. She cursed the recession and blamed the summer...sure those who were recession proof were out at the Hamptons.

xTian found the whole conversation a bit depressing. She's a personal trainer by night and bar tender in the evening? Did she have no morals? As a personal trainer its important to eat well, apparently one can go broke eating well...credit card debt is bad. Acting is difficult. Without meaning to, she wondered if hoping to one day to be on a soap opera for 20 years was really just too big a dream?

xTian used booze as a crutch to power through this manic life story...between that and his embarrasing wingmen (one staring at his watch, the other reaching in between xTian and the girl to yell "you should really bang this one") it was all xTian could do to not rip the bottle out of the bartenders hand and bonk himself over the head with it.

No xTtian was in it to win it. So xTian was full court pressing, hands were everywhere, the laugh was pointed but not condescending, the sleepy eyed chin nod, it was all there...including the desperation...that was the most there...

When he asked her for her number she gave it right away, then she stopped before committing to a plan "I have a boyfriend waiting for me at home". xTian knew better than to respond, "We're not going back to my apartment, I live in Jersey.".

She hurried off into a cab, back to Brooklyn, back to the life she does not seem that committed to...he stared off and wondered "what now" as is his wont..

The sun rose, and he decided it was time to sleep.

Maine attractions (get it?)

Catjjy and I are ditching The Cha this weekend and heading to Maine for a wedding. He is very broken up about it, but we are excited about seeing the Killer B’s.

In researching establishments to hit while we are there, Killer B 1 came across a topless donut shop. It is actually part of a strip club, but it is open from 6am to 11am. Presumably, you buy the donuts from topless girls. This raises a host of questions.

Toplessness is generally a good thing, when applied to attractive women (like the readers of this blog). Donuts are certainly a good thing. Combining the two just might be brilliant. Consumers have shown a willingness to buy their coffee in an attractive Starbucks coffeeshop, even though the exact same Starbucks brew is available for $1 less at the gas station. Will people pay $1.50/donut at the topless place, versus $0.50/donut at the regular donut store? And if so, do you have the most profitable donut store ever?

Or does the whole thing fall apart when you combine toplessness and food service? Are we all a bit squeamish about half naked people handling our food? And perhaps more importantly, do you lose the interest of your audience when you replace the highly-engineered titillation of a strip club at midnight with the mundane everydayness of an operating donut shop at 7am? Is the same topless girl just as sexy doing a pole dance to throbbing R. Kelly beats as she is, say, sweeping up the area where someone dropped a tray full of bearclaws?

I suspect Catjjy and Killer B 2 will veto an early morning run to this particular donut shop, but we will try to get our friend The Cock to check it out and report back. In the meantime, are there any other business models whose profitability could be greatly enhanced by simply removing the employees’ shirts?

Booooooo

I hate Sex and the City. I really do. I can’t imagine a worse punishment in life than being with one of those broads, except maybe the brunette. She would probably make a good mom.

I hate it for a few reasons, here’s a quick rundown:

10 years ago, Sparkes and I would get drunk in the middle of the day and walk around the Meatpacking District talking to hookers standing outside of HELL you know just to ask them what’s up. Now it’s a Disney World for Euro-trash and 19 year old girls from Bergen County.

Women who navel gaze all day about dating on their blogs – enough! All of you…back to work…or something

Old chicks screaming about c*ck at the top of their lungs – you’ve seen it. You’re out somewhere getting a few drinks and some ladies are knocking drinks back like water and talking like sailors. This is what I do! I don’t need to be met crass comment for crass comment by someone who should have developed a better vocabulary 15 years ago at Wellesley. Seriously, Evil and I have a schtick, it looses all effect if we’re trumped by two blondes who thinks being 19 lbs too thin is a good way to maintain their youth.

Outsized expectations – Klosterman argued that Lloyd Dobler ruined it for everyone. I am fairly certain it was Mr. Big. Thank god Chris Noth is starting to look really disturbing…

I think that’s why I really hate it. I didn’t watch this show but it sure was popular when it was 1999 and the party didn’t look like it was ever going to stop. Those were good times. Spending money like we didn’t care, staying out till all hours. Manolo was in the strip club every night. Shoot, loose women abounded…awesome…

What now?

Fits of Fancy

Several days ago, Catjjy wrote something ominous on my facebook wall.

“I am scheming”

I had no idea what that meant. It bugged me a bit so I asked her.

“Oh I just want to introduce you to this girl. I don’t know her or anything but I know her sister. Her sister is awesome. I might introduce both you and Le Troisieme to her and see what happens”

I was a bit concerned. What was the upside of introducing both xtian and le troisieme to this woman. Le Troisieme is my brother and we get along famously. It’s doubtful that a woman who was interested in Le Troisieme would be interested in me. Regardless, I was interested, even more so after I got some key details on the woman in question.

• She has one of those jobs that indicates she is more interested in helping people than she is in making money. That’s interesting to me, she is mostly likely not that superficial. I can appreciate that.


• Her facebook picture revealed she was at least very attractive if not outright gorgeous


• She drives a mini (sigh)


• Huffingtonpost.com listed her address and how much she donated to the Obama campaign

Right, there was no way she would click with Le Troisieme, and no way he would be interested in her (bullet 2 aside, of course)

I spent the rest of my morning playing out a scenario in my head where I would meet this woman and charm her with my wit. Further she would be enamored with my hair. We would live in the mansion she inherited from her dead grandmother. In the mornings, I would be awoken by her playing with my luxurious hair. I would cook in the big kitchen. On Sundays in the spring we would read the NY Times in the park. I would walk around generally being really proud of myself.

I have no even met this woman yet, but somehow I imagine that our children will be striking…

Then it was about 1pm and I went back to work.

5 Things I've learned about this girl that make me not want to hook up with her (anymore)

(1) She's a Republican
(2) Prior to Sunday, she had never eaten Indian food
(3) Her dream is to run the library system for federal prisons (wha?)
(4) She has an odd fascination with people in the military
(5) Her self deprecation streak runs really deep

Making New Friends

I made a new friend this week. About a month ago, Evil and I went trolling for chicks when we ended up at a bar at the lower east side with a large group of people we did not know. After some drinking and an abortive attempt at Jenga, a very tall, very attractive woman spilled wine all over me and my sweater. While I was bloching it out in the restroom. Evil came up and suggested we use this opportunity to leave and find beef patties.

A few days later, I got an email from this woman apologizing profusely and offering to buy me a sweater. I resisted initially then finally relented. Over the course of our emailing, we started sharing our hopes and fears and generally bonding in a legimate way....

After some missed attempts we had lunch this past Friday. A three hour lunch, it was great. She dressed like Lilly Van der Wootsen as an homage to our favorite show, Gossip Girl. I dressed like a guy who has a lot of sex. That's how I always dress. Initially, she brought a friend, as a body guard I suppose. But within twenty minutes she excused herself, once she realized the coast was clear. I got my sweater too. It's great, I'm wearing it now.

I like her, she's funny. Also she finds me charming. New friends! top that

I have recounted this story a few times without any irony. Some think she is into me, some think she is strange, others wonder if I like her.

Honestly, it's none of these...except maybe that we are both weird. I mean we were both really excited about having lunch with someone we did not know. I think it was just a great lunch...that stuff happens all the time...it does to me anyway...

Trading in My Ethnic Identity for a Soggy Subway sandwhich

As I was describing this to Buck, he started pulling up Facebook.

"what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to figure out what chick you are doing this nonsense for. She's got to be hot"

"I'm not sure I understand..."

"You're stupid...you're brown. You're probably the only brown guy there."

"No, not at all...The guy who was teaching it is like Algerian or something. Although apparently, he's a professional dancer"

Buck was half right. Apparently, its Ball Season, and I'm going to be busting a move in a ball in tuxedo whites (which means tails and gloves...I just learned that!). Ostensibly, our good friend Le Troisième, put me on to this, but only with promise of bangable chicks.

I arrived promptly, at 18:45 in a sharp suit. I felt clean. It makes me feel good. Now Le Troisième had mentioned to me that he was very interested in a certain lady and showed me her on facebook to prove her worth and described her as a representative sample of the sort of women there. Many of the women there were admittedly good looking. The guys, a bit schleppy. Me in a schleppy crowd, more points for me. I'm also not in a majority at all. There's a Colombian looking chick off to the side, but given where we were I had mis-categorized her as Persian, which I would have looked upon as a plus...because I hate myself and my people.

Without much effort I was paired with Le Troisième's dream girl. She was a good height to pair with me anyway. This bodes well. My friend, a man of refined tastes, sold the girl short. She was amazing looking. I was eager to see him do well and perfectly willing to enable this. I lie. I have no interest in such a thing at all.

She asked me who invited me to participate (its a big word of mouth thing). I mentioned Le Troisième by name.

"oh, I met him last week. He's very nice"

We were mid dance but I heard her just fine. I thought quickly about how to stick myself into this mix...

"Did you say [Le Troisième] is funny?"

"No I said NICE"

"Oh, Agreed! He's very nice. But he's not at all funny"

She smiled. It was a nervous but intrigued smile. Or so my warped mind convinced me.

Extra Points: I ran into a guy I had a met a few times before. I was at a party and he had come accompanying a woman I knew. At some point she dragged me into a restroom so we could have a one sided argument, she argued I watched her pee, no money changed hands. He stood outside the door, knocking...like a chump. He acted as though he did not know me till I shouted something he would remember vaguely. I asked after our shared friend and he mumbled something about a "falling out"...he quickly introduced me to some other guy and hurried away. I love doing sh*t like that to people.

Date AND Die

Anyone remember this? Well rest assured, that nonsense is long over. xTian is back in full effect. Here's how it went down

I'm at brunch yesterday with some family and I get a call. I take it.

"hey"
"Oh hey, what's up"
"remember when you made that joke one morning about all my male friends being in love with me?"
"sure"
"well, you were right. is totally in love with me"
"interesting"
"He told me Wednesday and we had a long talk about it last night. This is only interesting because I have had intense feelings for him..."

At this point I tune her out and step away from the table so my aunt cannot press me on why I am flush white. I step out side into the second proper autumn day of the year. The nip in the air warming the cold streak that just ran down my back.

"interesting"
"I wanted you to know"
"apparently interesting is what I say when I have no idea what the f*ck else to say."
"right...I really like you I want to be friends"
"right, we should go for coffee next week and...wow...that was going to end very harshly"
"that's ok. I'm sure you will at some point want to say something and you should feel free to call me and do that"
"Sure...I'll call you tomorrow"

I delete her phone number the second I am off the phone. I make smoke with the cold air and my breathe. i stick my hands in my pockets and hang out with my family for the next 10 hours and about 10 minutes in I realize nothing is wrong and I'm completely fine. Just eight hours earlier, around 3am, I was walking through washington square park with Sparkes telling him about her positive attributes but not being terribly convincing at least not to me. Ah well....

Having said all that...Date or Die is back on! Watch out! I'm just getting started....

Date or Die is Dead: ET2 and the BF

ET’s BF and I had a pretty intense conversation over email last week. We had both been invited to a party and I was interested in going so I sent him an email

Are you going to this?

Yes I think so…would you like to do something before?

Yes I would. I think we should.

Great.

I just spoke to ET2, she says you have dinner plans.

Yes, she just told me that too…it slipped my mind…want to come?

No…

In the end, the girl and I went to Tamarind, while ET2 and her BF went to Bolo right up the street…

I had already remarked to ET2 that I thought the BF was asking me out on a man date and apparently when she told this to BF he got very self conscious.

“I am totally going to come on to him when I see him Saturday I said”

I even told the girl, concerned that early in our situation she would see me rubbing up on a dude…”I am certain you are not gay” she replied…what a good sport.

At the party, the girl and I commiserated on a couch, tired from an already rough weekend…when they arrived. I gave the BF a big hug…he flinched slightly. Then I invited him to get a drink with me.

At the bar I rubbed his shoulder as I asked what happened to our dinner plans. His reply “We planned one thing and then something else happened” hinted at something that he might not have intended to hint at. When his change came back his hands were full with drinks. When I grabbed the change and endeavored to stuff it in his pocket. He jumped about a foot in the air…this was too easy…it was not fun.

I did run back and tell ET2 and the girl about my aggressive move…The girl’s laugh more nervous than ET2s…

Date Or Die: Over and Out?

I flinched right after I said it. For some reason, I reacted to saying it the same way I reacted to making fun of my mother's perm as a boy. Worth doing, but only if you duck for cover ASAP.

The words, though small, hung in the air. I sipped my drink, a stiff one mixed of and scotch and vermouth. I considered the glass for a second...plotting an escape that was not evident. There was no escape. I looked up.

She's smiling at me. I think when I stared at her, just 30 seconds prior, I said something to the effect of “I really like you…” which I attempted to redeem with “Is that ok to say?” and then the flinching started.

She enjoyed this awkwardness. Up to that second, I was in complete control, a man with a plan. On some level that was working for her, but on another it was not ringing fully true. xTian does have a kryptonite. It’s called honesty. (Long time readers should not be surprised) I’ll admit - I really loved that she’s enjoying it.

“I think its ok to say. Further, I’m down with that.” She says she’s “down with” things with a perfect cadence and without contracting any words. It’s quite charming. ”I like you to…in spite of…um…whatever”

Oh, no…it’s going off the rails. Self defeating nitwit that I am I press her. “In spite of what?”

“I really didn’t want to”

“Huh?”

“No, not like that. “ She’s playing with her mint julep. I really dig that she ordered straight bourbon with mint and sugar. “I just have so much going on I did not think I was in a place to meet someone new”

“oh…”

“But I really like you too…this is good”

Yes…yes it is…I’m now holding her hand. We’re an interesting sight, us in this dark bar... One question hangs in the air:

How do I keep from messing this up?

Date or Die: A Small Slip Up

Anyone remember the Manifesto? The dark path was clearly and obviously called out as engaging with women from the past.

Yet there I was, Sunday afternoon happily trudging down the dark path, whistling even. My self-defeat knows no boundaries...it mocks my lighter angels and sometimes get something in "both my eyes". She was crying, not quite sobbing, just crying. I held her a bit. She cleared her eyes quickly and said "that runner thinks you just broke my heart". Of course I had not, I was just a random passerby. This is not unlike when a when I used to make a habit of stopping and helping drunk girls vomiting on the street. Not knowing what to do I would stop say "Don't worry I'm not creepy" and calmly hold their hair back as they vomited.

This was of course different. I know her but had lost track of her long ago. She found me on facebook. I had been blowing her off for weeks. I thought nothing of it as she was clearly listed as "In a Relationship" nothing bad could happen but as Sparkes was quick to point out "nothing good could come of it either".

When we spoke on the phone there we were, she started banging on about insecurities then caught herself and stopped. I thought we would be safe. Brunch was fun but then she fell apart in the park facing the Hudson river and I didn't know what to do. So I hugged her and assured her it would all be alright. In my head, something clicked and I concluded..."not for her, she will never be all right..."

Date or Die: Death by a Million (electronic) Paper Cuts

On 8/22/07, APR wrote:

hi xTian,

i'm sorry, but i don't think we're a good fit. i think you're a great person, and i enjoyed spending time with you. i wish you all the best.

APR

ON 8/23, xTian wrote:

that's too bad. I really enjoyed our conversations.

Can I ask a small favor? if you see me on the street please feel comfortable enough to say hello. It will be non-awkward I promise

:-)

take care

xTian

But I lied, it will most assuredly be awkward...I may even stub her toe...or, more likely, lick her face and run away.

This however was not the coldest rejection I ever received over email. Note this from 2 years ago. from a girl I sort of messed around with once in a club and the emails we exchanged after that were initially about making a plan to hang out but ended like this...

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I don't know...I can't tell if you are insulting and complimenting me at the same time.

I feel the same way when we are together, which may be the reason why I am not too keen on the idea of us hanging out.

I am sorry. Can we just chalk it up to having conflicting personalities and leave it at that?
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I keep these things....and think about them