Thursday, January 8, 2009

Dating Experiment 9,999,999 - Part III

Here's the update. This is what's happened after date number two on Friday night.

The following Saturday Mr. Hot Rod comes into work looking for me. He couldn't find me and called because he knew I was there somewhere. We meet up, chit chat, and part with a hug.

Sunday Mr. Hot Rod comes into work again and gives me a little push as he walks up behind me. I, of course push him back, tell him I was just going on a break, and ask if he wants to come with me. He does. I meet him at the back of the building, he pulls his car up, gets out and sits outside on a bench with me.

We talk about what he might be doing later, what I might be doing after work, and I told him if he's still up when I'm off and wants to meet for a drink to give me a call, but he says he may call it an early night with work the next day. I say, "Well, I won't call and wake you up." He says, "If I'm sleeping I just don't pick up." Then he follows that with, "Well you know I won't call so you might want to." We laugh again.

After a short chat, thinking mischievously, not about the walking to the car thing, but having other thoughts in mind, I do in fact walk him to his car and tell him to get in. He looks at me, laughs, and says, "Are you putting me in my car?" To which I respond, "Something like that." With my back to the car I slide in on his lap. He looks a little nervous. I ask if he's ever driven like this before. He says, "A long time ago, but the guy was hard to hold on to." We laugh, I give him a quick kiss, wipe my lipstick off his mouth with my fingers, get out, head to the door, and turn to wave goodbye.

lipstick kiss Pictures, Images and Photos

I think to myself, "What a cute approach. How can he resist that?"

I didn't hear from the bastard for 2 ½ weeks, other than a few non-committal emails. I mean, I know he went home for Christmas for a week, but come on already! Finally he calls me somewhere between 11 and 12 p.m. He said he figured I'd be just getting off work and he just wanted to say, "Hey." I said, "Well, Hey." He didn't try to make a date, didn't ask what my schedule was like, didn't say, "Gosh I'd like to see you." There are a lot of things he didn't say.

He did mention he was having surgery to laser open his nasal cavities and have tubes put in his ears for drainage in a couple of days. Of course, being a mother I had to drown him in questions:

"How are you getting there? How are you getting home? Is anyone staying with you after the surgery?" He's not really close to anyone here. Big surprise, huh?

I offered to get him safely to and from surgery. At first he said he didn't like to ask anyone to do anything for him, but after I told him he wasn't asking and I was simply offering, he accepted.

I call him the night before to confirm what time I'm picking him up. He sounded stressed due to his pending surgery. I told him I might stop by after work to say, "Hello." He accepts and then calls later that night while I'm working to cancel, sighting being nervous about surgery as his excuse. What's up with that? At this point I'm thinking I could show up naked at his front door and the guy wouldn't have a clue what to do.

I arrive the next morning to take him to surgery, get him safely inside and registered, hug him goodbye, and tell the nurse to kick his ass if he doesn't behave.

Later I get a call from the clinic that he's in recovery and I can come pick him up. When I get there the nurse comes to take me back; I hesitate for a minute and decide to pour myself a cup of coffee because it's been my experience that men are kind of wimpy when they're sick and I'm guessing we're going to be there for awhile. Thank God I left my kids with my mother. It's a good thing I was prepared. When I get to recovery Mr. Hot Rod is cold on his back with blood running down his face on mega-strong drugs.

With blood on my hands, at one point I do decide to say, "I think now is a good time to ask if you have any infectious diseases I need to know about."

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He's a six-foot-four cry baby and I'm there for three-and-a-half hours, literally wiping his nose. Blood is pouring down his face and his neck is sore from the surgery. I, of course, rub his neck, hold his hand, keep him covered with blankets, and feed him ice chips and coke.

The nurses tell him over and over again what a sweet-heart I am to take care of him. He says nothing. I wonder what he's thinking?

At one point his whining was kind of getting to me, so I lean over the railing of his bed, look him deep in the eyes and say softly, "Do you know that if men had to have babies the entire human species would die out?" The nurse laughs her ass off. He utters a little chuckle. It is true though; isn't it ladies?

Maybe they did the wrong procedure on him.

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They try to get him up to wheel him to the bathroom. He's dizzy and gets nauseous. This just keeps getting better and better; doesn't it? I help him dress and quickly call my housemate to have her throw my sheets in the wash so I have a place to put him. I can't in good conscious leave him home alone unable to care for himself. I figured I'd sleep with my daughter for the night. I tell him I'm taking him home with me. He wants to go to his place, so that's exactly where I take him. I drop him off, get him settled on the couch with pillows and a blanket, and run to Walgreen's to fill his prescriptions. He gives me his debit card and his PIN. Upon my return I tell him I spent $500 at the mall. He says, "Okay." I wonder if he ever checked his bank statement???

Before I leave his place I line all his medications up, put drops in his ears, rub them in, fix him a piece of toast, and tell him to answer his phone when I call because I will be checking on him. He said he would as long as he wasn't sleeping. I say, "Answer it even if you're sleeping or I'll send the paramedics over to your apartment." Without fail, he answers each time I call for the next couple of days, but one day he doesn't answer. I show up at his door. When he answers I say, "Good. You're alive. Bye." and start to leave. He invites me in and thanks me for checking on him.

On the drive home from the clinic he thanks me repeatedly for taking care of him. He continues to thank me each time we speak.

Monday he had the packing taken out of his nose and was a miserable mess. Yesterday he asks to stop by. He does and we visit for a little while. Again, he tells me to call him, followed by, "You know I only go to work and then home, so I'm never doing anything." I tell him he can call me if he wants to see me, ask what my schedule is like, and plan a time to get together. He says, "Like I never call you."

I say, "You don't." He tells me he has weekend warrior duty coming up and maybe we can get together one night during the weekend. I'm not holding my breath for a phone call.

Remember his car I wrote about?

Here's a better picture of it. Too bad he doesn't know how to drive. ;p

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I hope he has fun with that car.

Drive away son ... drive away FAST!

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I had a date last night with K****, a very cute Captain I met while renewing my ID badge on the base last week. I have a date Thursday with R*****, a sickeningly cute Master-Sergeant from the base who can always make me laugh. K**** and R***** know how to use a telephone. Yay for them! They've done their mother's proud! I'd sure like to have a chat with R***'s mother. If she ever tried to teach him how to court a woman, something apparently got lost in the communication.

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Ladies and Gents, what kind words would you tell Mr. Hot Rod upon his next contact. Would you even bother seeing him again? I didn't help him out for any kind of pay-off, but wouldn't it be cordial to ask to buy me a drink or take me to dinner? I'm quite sure I'll hear from him … although it could very well be weeks.

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