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I'm divorced officially now and am navigating the waters of the DFW dating scene, which has been surreal. I'll post about the end of my marriage at some point, but for now let's take a journey to my first romantic interlude, a girl named Melissa.
"Holy shit," said Corey. "That girl in the gray tank top has nice tits."
My best friend is what you call a breast man, and I'm no exception, so I naturally turned to look, but found the object of his desire had her back turned. Still a nice view I thought, but I focused my attention back on Corey and continued our conversation.
It was my birthday, my first since my ex and I separated. My friends were kind enough to throw a get together at my favorite watering hole, an Irish pub. The party dwindled to just my best friend and I, him drinking his fruity liquor concoction and I on my 8th or 9th Guiness. As sad as I was knowing that my family wouldn't be there to enjoy the festivities, I was truly grateful for the love and support of friends.
The pub has your typical decor of an Irish pub, with dark colored paint and hints of green surrounding the fancy bar top. Naturally, they had adorned a dartboard that was flanked with chalkboards of their latest specials and current list of what's on tap. There is little that makes it stand out from other bars like it, other than its splendid location in the quaint downtown, where piped in music filled the night air and people spontaneously danced in the sitting area outside.
Corey and I made our way outside and I saw him off to his Uber, a wise decision considering how much we consumed. I took a last puff of my cigar and went back into the bar to square up.
As I leaned there trying to get the attention of the staff, a flock of people who I briefly met earlier gathered around me making conversation. We made small talk as I locked eyes with a beautiful young lady who introduced herself as Melissa. She was short, curvy brunette with big doe eyes and a sweet smile.
"Mother of God," I thought. "This is the girl Corey was raving about."
She asked me the usual questions, name, occupation, age, relationship status, etc. and I in turn asked the same. She was a professional burlesque dancer which came as of no shock given her figure and demeanor, but I am largely unfamiliar with the craft. I was enjoying her company though for reasons other than just how she was easy on the eyes.
Melissa was a bit young for me at the tender age of 31, but she was friendly, cool, and seemed mature. We spoke amongst the others who were trying to make fast friends with me. As I was placing my signature on the slip she grabbed my arm and held a firm grip.
"Do you want to come party with us?" she asked with giving those puppy dog eyes.
"I don't know," I replied. "It's getting late."
"If we get bored we can hang at my place."
"I'm in," I said without skipping a beat while I slapped my hand on the counter.
A group of us walked down the street to a nearby apartment complex. I was the only one who didn't have a history with any of these people, and I wondered what I was going to walk into. Sizing the dudes up, I figured I was pretty safe, and the women, dear lord all of them were so pretty. As we entered the apartment, I was offered more beer, which I gladly accepted. Then they brought out the cocaine.
Oh dear. These youngins are doing some hard drugs, and I was clearly the only one not into that scene. Not that I have a problem with people snorting uppers, it's just not what I do. I'm a drinking man, and that's about it. I felt a little lonely being the odd man out, but Melissa made sure I always had her company, and I was grateful.
"Wanna head to my place?" she asked.
"Um, let me think about it," I replied. "Yes."
We Ubered to her home, a nice dwelling, clean and well decorated. We chatted a bit and sipped some cocktails she made. And then, well you know.
"It's getting late," she said as she lifted her head off my chest.
"What time is it?" I asked as I reached for my phone. Holy hell it was 7am. It was 2:30a when we left the party.
We said our goodbyes and I called my Uber. As I left I wondered if I should call her, and while I did enjoy my time for obvious reasons, I really had no intellectual connection with someone 15 years my junior with no shared interests, well we did have one thing in common. Oh yes we did.
I was standing outside awaiting my ride home. I turned to see her in the front window smiling at me. She blew me a kiss, and I air grabbed it.
As I pulled myself out of bed at 4pm I see my phone with numerous missed calls and texts from my ex. I call her and she inquires to my whereabouts. I was honest and explained in less than honest detail about last night's activities. She seemed happy and decided since I was with a female it would be a splendid time to tell me she was dating some exclusively.
"Why are you waiting to tell me this now?" I asked, which seemed like a reasonable question.
"I didn't want to upset you," she replied.
"Why wouldn't I be..." I stopped myself. Told her I was happy for her and wished her the best with him. We ended the conversation, and a single tear shot down my cheek.
"I remember thinking cocaine was subtle until I noticed I'd been awake for three weeks and didn't know any of the naked people passed out around me." - P. J. O'Rourke
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