Montclair Calling

This random guy on Nerve piqued my bored ass’s interest one night a week or so ago. Pretty straight-seeming single dad, hotlisted me, hadn’t noticed him for a while but he seemed attractive enough and me, being me, seized on the “Mostly Reformed” (MR) tagline under his profile photo. I emailed him asking for the dirty deets of his former bad boy ways. Didn’t get much or shall I say, anything, but a request for my phone number. After a bit of phone tag, we talked.

I told him about growing up in a strange land on the city’s outer boundaries, MR told me what I already knew about Montclair. His 13-year-old son called in the middle of the convo and we hung up after agreeing to meet, maybe for lunch Tuesday.

He texted me after telling me I seemed great and Tuesday was good. The story, or lunch, better be good.

It All Comes Clear

The email came quick and is honest, at least. This bodes well. I don’t really ask for all that much. (Shut up, it’s true!)

2:30pm From: BG
it was great to meet you last night. as well as being cute you are very cool and fun.

here’s the thing

I’ve been seeing someone for a couple of months. it is pretty casual – we see each other once a week, no questions asks – it’s not quite like you and your boy (I think she has a hope it will go somewhere else at some point) but it works for me and we have both acknowledged that it is casual right now.

that’s why I was somewhat circumspect about meeting.

But I’d like to see you again under whatever construct works for you, even if it is just hanging out and chatting.

6:38pm From: Me

Yes, that does explain a thing or two. Thanks for your candor.

I’m not sure yet what construct would work for me, but hanging out, chatting sounds like a good starting point. I had a lovely time as well last night.

Let me know what you have in mind.

Wine and (Sparkling) Water

I arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes late, on account of a number of things but mostly lack of enthusiasm. Not surprisingly, the place was crazy busy and BGWDI whisked me out at once. We went down the block to a cozy spot called Jadis. He looked just like his pictures, but for a bit more white stubble haloing the underside of his otherwise bald head. With his thick black angular glasses and natty style he looks more like an architect or gallery owner than a software guy who works for a big financial firm, but that disparity pleases me.

We–or at least I–talked openly, freely and without effort for the better part of 3 hours. I told him about The Boy and, as I’d suspected, it didn’t seem to phase him. Dinner, as it turns out, is no longer on the menu as a first date activity since the time he endured a tortured meal with a woman who bored him to tears and had the audacity to order dessert, prolong the agony and lengthen the bill. Fair enough.

In a similarly absolute determination, the booze had to go for the time being, not because of any addiction issues according to him (from here on in, he’s just BG) but because the holidays were so filled with excess that he wanted to take a break. Whatev. He drank two bottles of Perrier to my single glass of Cotes Du Rhone and everyone was happy.

When we arrived at the crossroads of his Bond Street apt and my subway, we stopped for goodbyes. I put my arms around his waist. He smiled and tensed up a bit at the same time. The kiss was abrupt and awkward. His breath smelled a bit sour. We both agreed it had been a great night and traded promises to be in touch.

I have no idea what it all meant, but it was more fun than expected, which is all you can really ask for. For now anyway.