So, here I was, paused during a passionate kiss with my former UPS man in his car. He was turned away from from me, in the middle of texting his “young lady friend.”
And what was I doing? I sat there thinking all of you, my readers. I’m not kidding. I almost cracked up. It almost felt like you were watching me. Strange.
If he hadn’t stopped to text to his “young lady friend,” I probably would have slept with him. What can I say? It has been a long time. (When I’d run out to meet him, I realized that I’d forgotten my lipstick. But I had remembered a condom, Just in Case.)
It would have been easy to sleep with him. Right here in his car. Or, I could have led him into my friend’s brownstone, where I was staying. There was a cozy music room downstairs, with a big sofa.
But he’d blown it.
“I’m tired,” I said. “I’d like to go home.”
It’s amazing what happens to my body when I get turned off. I suddenly get tired. I wasn’t pretending. I wanted to go to sleep. Alone.
“You built up a fantasy about this guy based on very little information. In reality, you know almost nothing about this guy’s character or how he lives his life. So of course, he was very likely to turn out very different from your fantasy.”
I was staying just 10 blocks from where we sat in his car. We drove in silence. In front of my friend’s home, I gave him a quick hug and hopped out of the car. He looked disappointed. I felt just right.
The next day, he called and left a message.
“I’m just calling to check up on you,” he said. “My day was a little rough. I was totally exhausted, but it’s fine because it’s Friday. I’ll get some sleep tonight. But most of all, I had a good time with you last night. I hope to do it again sometime.”
Does he know that he f-cked up? I think so.
But I still need your advice about one little issue:
Remember when he asked me to please send him a copy of my book? (I know, if he really wanted to read it, he could go out and buy it. But he clearly he wants a signed copy.)
He even gave me his mailing address. Actually, he gave me his parents’ mailing address. Ironically, he works such long hours that he’s never around to get packages.
Susan Courtad gave me this advice in her recent comment:
“Don’t give him a copy of your book — and the satisfaction of reading your in-depth fantasies about him!”
But I was thinking otherwise: if I DO send him my book, he’ll see what fantasies he missed out on… What do you think?
Should I send him my book — with Chapter 1, “UPS Man at My Door” — or not?
Photo by Frankie P.
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