The Flight Attendant: Part 2

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I watched a few episodes of OITNB while Robyn and I went on to text each other back and forth for the rest of the day after I spent the night. Like I said before, I don’t really like spending the night at a girls place. Why? Well, first of all, I normally don’t have a change of clothes in the morning so not only is my hair all messed up from sleeping on it, I’m also still wearing the same wrinkled shirt and jeans from the night before. Second, I don’t know whether or not she has a drip coffee machine or one of those weird K-cup ones which I swear is slowly poisoning us as a race. What if she only has half and half instead of non dairy creamer, or sweet and low instead of equal? What if she doesn’t drink coffee at all? I can’t take those chances that early in the morning.

Truth is, with her I probably wouldn’t have cared and I would have stayed all morning over there if I didn’t have to feed my cat at 7am and I’m not just using that as an excuse to leave, it was just what I had to do. Having pets are like having children, but with less crying and no diaper changing. Besides, she was headed to the Gay Pride Parade that afternoon, and even though she kept begging me to meet up with her, I had absolutely no intention of going there. Not because I’m homophobic, but because the company I sometimes tend bar for was working the event and they had scheduled me, but I got out of it because I felt like there was something more important I had to do that day which ended up being going on a date the night before, and laying around the apartment watching Netflix with Robyn even though I didn’t know either of those things were an option a week before when I requested the days off. See, sometimes as a highly creative person like myself, I just go with my gut feeling, and my gut was telling me to stop at McDonald’s for a sausage egg and cheese McMuffin and hang around the apartment that Sunday with the A/C on.

Around 11am, Robyn sent me a selfie of her having a drink in the Hollywood Hills. Even though she pointed out how tired she thought her eyes looked, I still thought she was beautiful and I let her know that as well as the fact that there were a few other things I liked about her. I listed them in a text, and I even rhymed them like a Dr. Seuss poem. I got skills. I was feeling pretty good. I had just gotten laid unexpectedly, I felt like there was something new and cool happening, and I felt lucky for having met her being as though I wasn’t even supposed to be off the night I did. We went back and forth texting each other all afternoon, until I convincingly made her decide to come over around 5:30 to hang out with me before her red-eye flight back home to Florida at 9pm.

Can we eat something when I get there?

I have a cheese pizza waiting for us in the freezer.

You’re the best.

(Sent 5:01 6-14-15)

I know I am, and I don’t mean that in an egotistical, cocky kind of way, I mean that because I know I’m a good guy and I treat the girls I like with respect and honor. See, if I don’t like you, I just don’t make an effort at all. But if I do like you, I remember that you’re a vegetarian and I know to buy a pizza for us without any meat on it. Pretty simple really. I got her a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and ginger ale and she came over and we hung out, ate some food, had a drink, and lougned around and watched the NBA Finals until she had to leave around 7pm. I so didn’t want her to go, but I know she has her own life and this whole thing was new to us both and I wasn’t quite sure where it was going, but I knew I’d see her again, so I walked her down to the car like I did a few days earlier, kissed her and sent her on her way. She text me 20 minutes after she left.

Do you miss me yet?

Nope. And I’m definitely not making you a mix CD right now.

🙂 🙂 🙂

(Sent 7:55pm 6-14-15)

I’m not going to tell her I miss her, because that would be too soon to admit that….. but I am going to indirectly tell her that I miss her by saying I don’t miss her and then adding the part where I mention that I’m thinking about her by making a playlist/mix CD. I feel like nowadays you got to do stuff like that. I know it sounds weird, but I think both girls and guys appreciate slightly sarcastic and somewhat non offensive backhanded compliments when made at the right time in the right tone.

The beginning of dating someone is the best. Discovering who they are, their idiosyncracies and just basically getting to know each other are the times I cherish the most. She had been gone less than a day but we had text each other a lot and she called me the next night on her way home from shooting pool when she was pissed because the Blackhawks had just beaten her Lightning in the Stanley Cup Finals and no one in south Florida seemed to care. Another selfie and a few random pictures of lunch with her parents later, we would continue to communicate with each other every day until she returned to L.A. on Thursday. I knew I had only known her for less than a week, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t falling for her a little.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I was in love with her or anything like that, but I was thinking about her a lot and I was trying to plan out things for us to do when she got back into town so she would know that it wasn’t just a random act of sex and alcohol we had experienced but that I was really into her. On Thursday morning, the day she was meant to come back, I let her know I wanted to see her when she landed. She told me her schedule that day and we agreed to meet later that night at Jones in Hollywood for a drink. That night would change everything I had going for me with the Flight Attendant up to that point and it wouldn’t necessarily turn out way I wanted it to. Even to this day, I still don’t know why or how it happened.

I had been at Pink Taco with my friend Scott getting hit on by gold digging drunk girls who just came back from Vegas and who told us they had sex with guys for airplane tickets. Now, Scott and I were in no position to entertain these birds, and I so wanted no part of the conversation they were trying to have with us but I got to be honest, sometimes it’s amusing listening to and watching a trainwreck in action. After a few drinks and as it was getting closer to when I was going to meet Robyn, I started feeling happy, mainly because I was going to see her, but also because it was a way out of the situation with the party girls sitting next to us, otherwise known as  Dumb and Dumber.

I got to Jones around 9:30, and went outside to answer her call.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m walking up behind you.” she replied.

I turned around and there she was, dressed in a black leather jacket, jeans and boots. It certainly didn’t look like she just came from ballet class at all. She looked really good, but there was something off about her. Was she a little apprehensive? Maybe. I couldn’t really tell what was going on yet, but I would soon find out. Albeit I was a little tipsy and in hindsight, maybe drinking since 6pm wasn’t such a great idea but regardless, I got us a round of whiskey and we took a seat across from the bar and stared at this guy who was apparently oblivious to the fact that his ass crack was hanging out.

“There it is.” She said as the guy leaned forward just enough to give us a birds-eye view of his butt.

She was being funny and sarcastic, but the overall tone of the night seemed kind of weird. Not weird in a good way like the night I met her and we both spent three hours cuddling which is something you obviously don’t do the night you meet someone, weird in a bad way like she was casting off and fishing for information that said to me I’m going to not like what is about to happen. She told me about how in the past she always screws up relationships and how she wanted to go to therapy and that she wanted to take things slow, and she wasn’t too keen on getting involved really quickly. Wait, what? Was she talking about me? Is this an extension of the convo we had for a second from last weekend where she told me that she didn’t want to talk about herself? Was she referring to another guy she recently met at a bar? Also, therapy? Would I have to go to with her or was she mentioning it as an option for her own self improvement? It seems a little too soon for us to meet with a mediator, and besides I had no health insurance. I couldn’t really comprehend what she was saying because yes, I was a little drunk and I couldn’t be sure, but all I kept hearing was things that sounded like that she didn’t want to see me anymore.

Backing tracking a bit…earlier in the night I had asked if she wanted to come by my place instead of going out. I only said this because I was already at home at 8:30pm, and maybe it was easier for her to come by my place but maybe, and I think possibly she might have misinterpreted that offer as me just wanting to have sex with her again.

If we go to your place, we’re going to go upstairs for a drink and then the bedroom, and then you know what’s going to happen next….

A part of me was baffled by what she was saying, that I didn’t know how to react. Did I want to sleep with her again? Of course I did, but it wasn’t the reason why I wanted her to come over. I mean if anything, I really liked her and wanted to be with her in a private setting to get to know her better and maybe we could play some darts or listen to some more music and maybe she would stay over and we would NOT have sex. Up until this point, I hadn’t seen her for like a week and every time I heard a text notification go off on my phone I got a little excited because within a few days we had sent something like 500 texts to each other and 250 times when I heard that sound go off, it was her texting me and my brain would release a little more dopamine. It’s true. Your mind enjoys the sound of a text or e-mail notification. Look it up.

Getting back to the night at hand, I feel like I’ve heard this song and dance before. When a girl starts pulling away and says to me “I’m not where you’re at,” I immediately turn on the defensive and I try my hardest to protect myself so I don’t get hurt. Look, I’m a highly creative person and I recently read an article that put things into perspective for me when dating a highly creative person like myself. (see article here)

What may not seem like a big deal to her, i.e. telling me she thinks we should take it slow, etc. etc. was kind of coming off to me as her pushing me away. It may not have been her aim to do this, but in my head it was kind of devastating. I might have been stand off-ish or asshole-ish, but that was really never my intention. To be honest, I don’t know what I said that rubbed her the wrong way and made things awkward between us. I don’t know how I acted that made her think twice about being there with me, and I can’t remember for the life of me why I didn’t just say “Yeah, that’s cool. Let’s take it slow.”

The one thing I do remember is how much of a blunder the last 15 minutes put us in. It wasn’t like an argument, and it was never even that dramatic, but all I remember was this horrible feeling in my stomach, walking her to her car and barely saying goodbye. I would take an Uber home where I would spend the next 48 hours physically and mentally destroying myself for acting like such a jerk and I didn’t even have to live out the next few days to know that whatever happened that night, fucked up whatever good thing I had going with her. It was a mess right now, and I hate mess so of course, I tried to fix it.

I would find myself looking at my phone, trying to replay the night over in my drunken head by trying to match the texts we sent each other with what events my brain could remember actually transpiring. She said she was sorry that night because it made me sad, & I apologized for acting like a drunk jerk the next day because I thought she didn’t want to see me again. She said that wasn’t the case at all, but the next day she also said that it caused her to take a step back and that she just felt weird about the whole situation. Great. Now I’m just a weirdo she slept with on the first date. Miscommunication is the death of me and the last relationship I had back in 2009. It is the worst, and I wanted so dearly to un-miscommunicate and explain myself, so I asked her if we could talk about what happened. This is the response I got back:

I’m working this weekend, but maybe next week we can chat. Although you know where I stand so I don’t know what there is to talk about.

Sent 8:55pm 6-20-15

Ouch. That hurt. I let it go for a few days. During that time I thought about her a lot, but moreover I thought about how I totally screwed myself by being drunk and disorderly that night, and the misconception of how I felt and what had happened vs. how she felt and what she was saying. I mean, was it just a big misunderstanding, or was there something else going on? Did she have five guys she was talking to on the side like a sailor has a girl at every port? She does fly around the country for a living, and I don’t pretend to know everything about her, but a part of me thinks that maybe she got a little freaked out. Maybe she doesn’t sleep with guys she meets three days earlier, or maybe she felt something for me and just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. Maybe she just didn’t care. I knew I had to make an effort to talk to her, NOT text her anymore so I called her on a Tuesday morning, left a message and then she called me back twenty minutes later and I played it cool. I was all like, “Hey, I have this problem and I think you can help me.”

“Ok, what is it?” she asked

“I have this wedding coming up next month, and I could really use a smart, pretty girl like yourself with good fashion sense to help me pick out a matching shirt and tie.” I replied.

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at that.” She said. “I’m working all this week though.” (starting to wonder if this was an automatic response)

“Well, whenever you have time. I know it’s a lot of pressure” I said sarcastically.

I could tell she was smiling when she was talking to me by the tone of her voice, and I thought to myself… “alright cool, we’re never going to talk about what happened that night, but maybe we’ll go to Macy’s together and shop for dress clothes.” Ok, she called me back, so I’m not a total freak and there is still a chance, right? The thing about being in this predicament was that I didn’t want too much time to go by without seeing her again. I wanted to make another impression that wasn’t some uncomfortable 45 minutes at a bar where things were stranger than fiction.

I spent the next few days giving her space, but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t in my head trying to figure out what went wrong. It was a mess, and like I said before, I fucking hate mess. I either want it to be cleaned up so we can start over, or I want to know it’s done so I can move on with my life. I don’t feel this way about everyone, in fact I don’t even know how I was feeling, but I can’t remember the last time I spent so much time thinking about someone I had only known for a week and a half. Obsessive compulsive disorder much you might be saying? No, that’s not really it. I just hate being left in the dark. I’m from the “Why” generation that asks questions and expresses themselves and sometimes doesn’t relate to the quirks of this Millennial generation who seem to lack the ability to actually feel a feeling, then turn those feelings into words that they will then use to create sentences to communicate to people what they really think and how they really feel.  Maybe try it some time.

Four days went by and I hadn’t heard from her at all. I was watching old episodes of The Office and I spotted that Indian actor Frank who was hitting on her the night we met and I sent her a pic, but I never got a reply back. Having no idea where I stood was driving me crazy. I talked with a few friends of mine that week, and got advice about what to do, and the only thing that made sense to me was just putting it all on the line and telling Robyn how I really felt. I mean, she’s either going to reply, or she’s not…but either way….. what did I really have to lose?

On Sunday the 28th, I shot a scene for a web series where I played the head of an talent agency. It was like my Ari Gold role, and I relished in it and I did a good fucking job and was complimented by the director and the writers. I had deleted all of Robyn’s texts the night before at work and I had written a text of my own that I was planning on sending that afternoon. I thought to myself, she’s a Capricorn like me, we have a lot of traits in common, and playing it cool and trying to be funny just wasn’t working. Maybe she wanted to hear exactly the way I felt because to be honest, that’s what I would want. Let’s cut the bullshit, and get to the heart of the matter. I got home from my shoot, and before I changed out of my Calvin Klein suit I sent her these words….

Ok, here’s the deal. I have not stopped thinking about you for the last week. You’re always on my mind and it’s driving me crazy the way we left things. I freaked out that night at the bar because the exact same thing happened to me a year and a half ago when this girl told me she wanted to take it slow, but then I never heard from her again. I panicked. I thought the same thing was going to happen. Look, I’m far from perfect and I know I have my own issues to work out, but you are really special to me, and I respect you and I felt a real connection which I haven’t felt in awhile and I wanted to take our time getting to know each other, but I realize that’s not up to me anymore. For what it’s worth, I just needed you to know.

Sent 11:11am, 6-28-15

I changed out of my suit, into some relaxing clothes, did a few shots of Don Julio, grabbed a beer and went down to the pool to relax and get some sun. An hour later I got a text back from her.

These texts are a bit excessive.

12:21 6-28-15

Ok, NOT what I was hoping for so I had to ask what she meant, even though I kind of already knew the answer. Was she referring to the content or the amount of texts?  This was her response:

Both. I appreciate what you’re saying, but that’s a bit much. And the exact reason I don’t want to get into anything.

12:26pm 6-28-15

Wow…how insensitive. You know, there is a nice way of saying what she said, but that wasn’t it. I get it, she’s not into me anymore, but I’m pretty sure she definitely was a week ago. How does somebody just turn on a dime like that?  Sure, it was a relatively new situation and things happened quickly, but I didn’t do it all on my own. I admit, I may be guilty of being a bit impassioned and romanticizing things in my head, but come on now….I didn’t make it all up. I know when someone feels a certain way about me, then changes their stance because they’re afraid of getting close. I know when someone likes me, then acts like they don’t to make me go away. Maybe it was never meant to be, maybe I dodged a bullet, or maybe she should renew that prescription for her bi-polar medication.

I know I’m a good guy, I just sometimes make stupid mistakes when I get drunk like that night. Sometimes your mind understands something exactly the way it was intended, while at the same time all your heart hears is “blah, blah, blah.” It was true, a similar thing happened to me a year and half ago when I met a girl and after two weeks I guess I made the mistake of telling her how I felt because she broke it off the next day. I wrote a blog about her too. It’s under Ok Stupid because that’s how I felt at the time and in some way, I guess history really does repeat itself.

What’s so wrong with telling someone how you feel about them? When did “I really care about you” turn into the scariest phrase a guy could say to a girl? I’m a big boy, I can handle taking it slow, as long as I know that you’re communicating with me and being honest and candid. I don’t really understand how I meet women who are attracted to me, laugh at my jokes, hold my hand and kiss me back, but then the second I say “I like you” it makes them run for the back door like an illegal working in a restaurant that was just raided by the INS. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it, and that doesn’t mean I condone it.

It’s been almost a month since I received that text, but I never wrote her back. Why would I at that point? I mean, who was I even talking to? That’s not the girl who admitted to me that she had her friend strike up a conversation with us that day at the bar so she could meet me. That wasn’t the girl who used to kiss me with her eyes open, and that definitely wasn’t the girl who tried to convince me that her dragon emoji looked more like a dinosaur than my camel emoji. That girl is gone, and I’ll probably never see her again…. unless of course I happen to be on a flight on her airline to Vegas and she is working, but what are the chances of that happening? It’s not entirely my fault, I know that. I tried to fix it, I really did, but I guess this was the way it was supposed to play out. I got to admit I ignored some of the red flags she raised in the beginning, but eventually they all show their true colors. I can’t be mad, and I’m not upset by what happened, just disappointed because I don’t want to be thought of as this guy she was into for a week that eventually made her feel weird and then wrote a blog about it. That would totally fucking suck. On the other hand, her thinking of me in that way is taking the easy way out, and maybe that’s what she wants to do.

When you listen to your heart, you sometimes get caught up in what you’re hearing.

I live life with no regrets, but if Doc Brown showed up outside my place in the DeLorean I probably would choose to take a ride back to Birds ten minutes before I met her and tell myself to take it slow and get to know this one, unless of course that would have caused a paradox in the space-time continuum. On the other hand, maybe I wouldn’t change anything. I may be out a pair of underwear and an extra set of T-Rex socks, but I took a shot and I do have a great song and a killer playlist I made that I never got a chance to give to her.

Look, it may not have worked out, but I was true to who I am, and I put myself out there even if it was only to come back with a few fleeting memories and a lesson learned. It’s not like I lost any sleep over it, and to this day I still love that one song even though every lyric reminds me of her. I can’t get it out of my head. Maybe that’s a good thing.

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