While I’ve written a few blog entries about what has gone down on certain dates, this is the first time I asked all of you — my oh-so-honest readers — to get involved in my dating life even before I’d gone out with the guy.
Not only was he my former UPS man, but I’d had a crush on him for seven years. Talk about pressure.
Did I want to go on a date with the UPS man because I wanted to?… Or, because you, my readers, had dared me to?
I wasn’t sure. I spent a few days analyzing my intentions (yes, I’m known to think too much, something that Otis, my UPS man, actually pointed out later.)
“I think you should set up something with the girls first — park, ice cream, etc. Then, while you’re having such a smashing good time, suggest drinks later in the evening.”
Thanks Liz. I called Otis. He called right back.
“Why don’t I pick you up at your friend’s house one night after work?” Otis said. “That way, I can see M. I haven’t seen her for years, I’d really like to say ‘hi’ and see how she has grown up.”
Sorry, but that was not going to work for me. It’s not that I’m a control freak (okay, sometimes I am), but I didn’t want M to see me going on a date with our former UPS man.
“I don’t really feel comfortable with that,” I said. “Sure, she knows you, but she doesn’t really remember you,” I awkwardly said. “It’s not about you, really–”
“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed.
“But I have an idea,” I said. “I want to bring her to see our old neighborhood. If you’re working that day, I’ll find you on your route. Then, I can meet you later, after work.”
Thursday morning, I was jittery.
I took M and her friend to Central Park. After pushing the girls on the tire swing and running through the sprinklers, we went back home. Here, I changed into one of my favorite button-down blouses and snug knee-shorts, like this:
We were headed to the subway when M turned to me and said, “Mommy, you changed clothes.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Why did you change?” she wanted to know.
“Because I felt like it,” I said, trying not to lose my cool. Has she always been this perceptive? (Yes.)
I sent Otis a text message and he told me the street where he was making deliveries. I was energetic and full of courage. I was also really curious. Had he read my book? Did he know how I’d detailed my fantasies about him?
“He’ll unbutton my blouse,” I wrote in one fantasy scene that I’d spent hours envisioning. “I’ll kiss his neck, tasting his salty skin… It has been so long, and damn, this man feels good!”
(Yes, the above excerpt is PG, you’ll have to read the book to get the R version.)
He was talking to a customer across the street, so I spotted him first. Single mom TSQuest recently wrote delicious post about why she’s attracted to bald men, and Otis’ photos could be added to her collection for sure.
M, her friend, and I stood next to Otis’ truck. M said, “I have to use the bathroom.”
“Do you think there’s a bathroom in that big truck?” I said, and she laughed.
That’s when Otis crossed the street. He was smiling at me, I was smiling back. I swear I heard him say, “Mmmmm.”
This is when my intentions became clear. Yes, you — my readers — had put the pressure on big time. But I craved some adult one-on-one time with Otis later because I wanted it.
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