The Lost Plum…

This post is going to be in two parts. I know, I know I loath two parters too!! Ok never mind fuck that! One part! But warning it’s alittle lengthy, but you can do it, I have faith…I had wrote a packed down 5minute version of the story for Abiola’s Kiss and Tell Live, but I think it’s better with details and back-story. And thus you are stuck with a two parter long post.

SIDEBAR: This is also a story I’ve sat on for a while. I’ve struggled with on so many levels, but in the end putting it out there is always best, or not. But here we go *deep breath*

You, Me, and the Stump equals three! Part One and Two!

I had noticed Elevator-Hottie since I starting working in the building 5 months ago. Ok, I didn’t notice him I straight up stared and maybe drooled at him. This man was hot, and by hot I mean HAWT!

We always seemed to be stuck in the elevator together, most times alone no matter what time of the day.

I simply chalked this up to fate!

We had exchanged a few smiles back and forth (god he had great teeth) but other then that, he watched the elevator TV and I pretended to be doing something important on my phone while I checked out his hot ass in his nice suit!

I worked late that night and as I was leaving the office around 8pm, I clicked the down button.

The door opened and there stood his tall gorgeous frame. (If I were a guy I would’ve got an instant hard on)

He smiled. I quickly looked down at my phone.

Elevator-Hottie: Can I just say something?

I looked up, mouth open from shock and stared at his beautiful face. I did not say anything, I don’t think I even nodded, but may have turned bright red.

Elevator-Hottie: You’re gorgeous! I’d love to take you to dinner sometime, if you’d like and are available.

I keep staring, drool may or may not have fallen from my mouth.

“Ummmm…(What ever I said here was most definitely babble and I fear evening thinking about it. I’ve blocked it from my memory)”

Elevator-Hottie: Can I get your card?

“Umm…yeah…sure” I fumbled for a card.

Elevator-Hottie: “I always wondered what you did at ‘the magazine with boobies’……”

His voice trailed off as he got off the elevator. I was planted firmly in my place still in shock and awe from the fact he even talked to me. ME!?! Did he just ask me out? HE asked ME, (ME?!) out!?!

The elevator doors closed!

SIDEBAR: I am an idiot!

I press the button the doors open (as I am already on the first floor). I walk out he is gone and there is Tom my favorite of our night security desk guys. “Smooth, very smooth!” He says with a smile.

I blew it! I totally blew it! Oh well.

But I get a phone call that night, and it was Elevator-Hottie. Seriously, I was now staring to believe in this ‘fate’ stuff.

Our first date was to be an after work drink. Although in all honesty I didn’t go to work till the end of day cause I was picking out the perfect outfit, getting my hair just right, doing nails, and all the girl (yes sometimes I’m like that) stuff!

We had a seemingly perfect first date. We had great conversation, I didn’t get to drunk (a usual first date flaw on my part) we ended up grabbing dinner, all in all a great date. As we were saying our goodbyes he gave me a “had a great time” accompanied by a pat on the shoulder.

He hates me. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that third drink, maybe I talked to much, I probably swore to much, maybe it’s cause I made fun of him…..urg such is my life!

But he called me. And he kept calling me.

Now Elevator-Hottie was everything you’d want in a man, especially in a Manhattan man. Tall, unbelievable handsome, very well educated, good family, owned his own apartment with a park view (and not stand on the toilet  in the bathroom tilt your head kind of view, we’re talking a view!) He had great job, and he even a summer house.

Date number 12 rolls around and the most action I’ve gotten is a peck on the lips and a pat on the back hug. And a few flower arrangements sent to my office.

I mean come on, a girl cant wait forever. In my dating world 12 dates is pretty much an engagement! So you better pony up! I was so confused by the situation, and never been in one like this before. Plus, I like sex so I was alittle upset on that front too.

I was also struggling with him because as perfect on paper as he may have been. He really didn’t make me laugh. OK, I shouldn’t say that he was funny he would make any normal girl laugh alot. But I need and want a guy who makes me spit out my drink, maybe pee my pants just alittle bit laugh! (It’s a requirement)

My friends all pushed me towards the ‘perfect on paper’ and said to ignore the other details.

Oh right, I’m forgetting that one other detail. You see for all his great perfect on paper points, there’s one little thing he didn’t have.

One quality mister-perfect-elevator-hottie-on-paper was missing.

Actually, it was more of an appendage then a quality. You see Elevator-Hottie was missing his left leg below the knee. He had a prosthetic, no leg, a whatever you want to call it………There was no leg!

So I rationalized his lack of physical contact as a shyness of his stump.

Maybe it was all scared up and nasty! Maybe it was shaped funny. Maybe he was scared I’d want to lick it during foreplay.

All I knew was if he didn’t take my pants off on this our 14th date, it’s over.

Leg or no leg : Over!

I get a Text message: Instead, why don’t you come over and we’ll order in and watch a movie.

Thank you Jesus! Come over and watch a movie IS and has always been code for come over and have sex!

But now I was terrified. I frantically spent hours googling sex with one legged men, and so on. These results turned up nothing but scary porn, and creepy craigslist ads.

This was it. You see if the sex is amazing, I guess I can get over the lack of gut hurting laugher. Plus, I was starting to really like him. NowI was more nervous then excited.

I show up at his apartment. I walk in the door and he jumps me. Wow! Like throws me against the wall, jumps me.

Where did this guy come from?

Lips are intertwined, arms are throwing and ripping off clothes. This one legged Hottie was on a mission! And his mission was me!

We take this action into the bedroom. We’re doing it, and we’re doing it. Oh and we’re doing it! And it was really great. And did I mention the view of the park from the bedroom!? The whole thing was hot and amazing!

I’m in the moment. Really in the moment, and then he decides he wants to take a trip…downtown !

And as I lay there with my eyes closed enjoying his downtown adventure I hear a soft whisper in my ear.

“She’s good isn’t she.”

I look over. I look down. I look over. I look down. I look…I look DOWN!

And there between my legs is this mass of grey hair.

I jump back! So fast and hard I hit the headboard and the back of my head started to bleed.

There at the foot of the bed is this …..Old Lady.

Now not just old, we’re talking tales from the crept, old lady boobs to her knees, fucking Old Lady OLD!

As I’m picking up my stuff I’m speechless. More shocked then when he asked me out in the elevator. I kept looking at him and his perfect body his mouth was moving, something about it being ok, how he wants me to stay. I kept looking at her with her really not perfect body saying something about how he was right I am really pretty.

And I couldn’t say anything. Maybe it was just the surprise of it, maybe it was the feeling that I was pretty much just violated by an old woman, or maybe it’s because I hit my head so hard I was pretty sure I was dying of a brain bleed. I was shaking and in shock, and just wanting to leave.

As I ran out in my jacket, one shoe and holding everything else I came in with. I walked into the bar across the street asked where the bathroom was and said I was coming back for shots!

As I put my clothes on I held back tears. I don’t know why exactly, but I had never wanted to be more loved and cherished by a man then in that moment. It sounds odd I know, but all I could think was why couldn’t I meet a nice guy, why does every guy I meet need to be an asshole douchebag or a freak. Why won’t anyone ever just love me. What was wrong with me?

Because just when you think someone is perfect on paper you realize their grandmother is doing the book keeping from inside the closet, or under the bed, or wherever one hides a walking swinger of a corpse!

I talked about facebook as a way to meet a potential mate the other day and thought I’d share a story.

When I first moved to New York I was bombarded with friends asking if I was on facebook because they couldn’t find me.

Facebook what is this facebook you speak of, my mind would wander. (We’re talking way back in the early facebook days; they didn’t even have Canadian networks then)

I had a good friend from home ask what it was one time as we chatted. I gave her my login information and was like “check it out”.

She did and with out my knowledge she friend requested about 20 guys in the city who she thought would be good for me. Oh and she would stress good-looking here cause that always equals a good.

I had about three of them add me as friends and one contact me. One day an email via facebook from a seemly nice guy on facebook introducing him self, saying he didn’t remember meeting me but he just moved to the city and didn’t have many friends, asking if we knew each other from some place else. Our emails continued and then they graduated to IM conversation. We spent months chatting for hours into the night. The months went by but I had still yet to meet him but I felt like I knew everything about him. He was slowly becoming one of my best friends in the city, and yet no face-to-face.

We talked on the phone, we late night drunken texted, and then finally we decided we needed an “adventure” not just a meeting, an adventure! We both discussed our love for penguins once and thus our adventure was to go and experience penguins. And this was a big adventure not just a central park advneture an outing all the way out to coney island to the aquriam on a very warm Febuary day (after almost 6months of ‘knowing’ eachother)

We picked up some coffee, and we jumped on the train and rode the train chatting like we’d known eachother for years. I’ve yet to have a more enjoyable subway experience with any other person. It is at the top my list of “perfect NYC days”

He really is one of my best friends and oldest friends since moving here. We’ve experience alot together, and always laughed along the way. He might not always return my texts (hint hint) but I know he’s one of those people I can always count on. And in the lonely city he knows me better then anyone else. If all else fails I know just seeing him makes me light up and smile. I live for times we get to catch up. He tells me tales of his girlfriend of the moment, I regal the ridiculousness that is my life.

It’s funny how we can go out searching for love (even if you don’t do the searching yourself) and find things that are even better then you would expect.

Whenever people get down on ‘dating’ or going out and meeting people I always think of how we find the greatest people in the most unlikely places.  I may still be searching for “mr. right” (or even “mr. right now” ) but I have my “mr.popular” and that’s just fine by me…

A purple spider, Punky Brewster, a tiger, and a ninja turtle all have one thing in common.  These are all things I have been for Halloween.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays.  I mean candy, costumes, drinking, and did I mention candy. What’s not to love!  It’s also the only holiday, which isn’t ‘family’ centered, maybe that is why we all love it!

Halloween is like over 200 years old and in my opinion maybe the most over commercialized and marketed holidays.  But more then that Halloween is over sexual.  It could be called “National Slut Day”. 

As Halloween draws upon us, all I see left right in center is slut attire. I was at the drug store buying tissues and cough drops and right next to the checkout were fishnets! (seriously?!)

Halloween is synonymies with cleavage, legs, and frankly sex. And females are mainly to blame (lame!).  Women dress in provocative garments to in most cases draw sexual attention and advances from men. Now I’m not saying anything is wrong with that but I think it’s gone a little far.  (this is where all my male readers which is about 90% of you chime in and say “hell no it hasn’t gone to far!”)

Halloween offers the opportunity to dress as anything at all and in true spirit dress as you something you really want to be.  Now I don’t know about you but I sure wasn’t telling everyone growing up in my sexy-school girl uniform that I wanted to be a prostitute.

I have never really dressed ‘sluty’ on Halloween so I can’t really judge can I.  In fact the costume I plan on wearing tomorrow is maybe my most sexy to date. And it’s not even that risky. In fact I traveled to many of the pop-up costume stores this city is filled with at this time in search of ‘additions’ to my costume. 

SIDEBR:  While at the costume store I over heard one girl tell her friend she should go as a prostitute because guys stick money in your boobs all night so it’s a win win!  (my eyes rolled, and I am rolling them again)

My costume this year needed alittle extra, and by little extra I mean 2-3 inches.  See in the spirit of National Slut day ever costume sold for women pretty much sits on your ass.  I mean maybe if you are a size 0 with no ass these lengths are appropriate but I grew up with my mother, who as soon as something went over the knee she raised a silently judging eyebrow.

StoreWorker:  Need help?

Me:  No I’m just looking for something, thank you.

StroreWorker:  Something in mind?

Me: Well, yeah actually I need something this colour or to match this.  (pulling out costume from my bag)

StoreWorker:  Are you looking for the same one? What’s wrong wit this one?

Me: It’s too short I need to add material to the bottom. Add more skirt.

StoreWorker: WHY?! 

Me: (laughing) It’s too short.

StoreWorker:  That’s how you get us guys to notice you. It’s sexy. You ain’t picking up if you ain’t showing leg.

Me: Honey, I was covered from head to toe and then some last year and I still had sex in the bar bathroom with a hot sailor. 

StoreWorker: (silent) Damn Girl!

It’s not about what you wear, it’s about how you wear it.  It’s about being confident in your own body, and I guess if most of us need that little “it’s ok it’s a holiday” excuse then I’m all for it.  Just make sure you have the confidence before you go throwing a mask over it. So embrace your sexy self and put on a costume or don’t it doesn’t matter. Just be comfortable in you, and the rest will fall into place.

 

MamaPlums advise for Halloween this year: “Play safe with others, and don’t accept candy or other ‘goodies’ from homeless men on the street. Oh and wear a hat you’re going to have cold weather”

PapaPlum left me a voice mail the other night with the following costume recommendation:  “You should go as someone who HAS received their flu shot. Hint hint.” (insert his laughter)

FACT: Sexy Sailor and I ‘dated’ for about 5 weeks after Halloween.  I didn’t even remember putting my number in his phone.  But I did…..that’s another story for a much later time.

We all do things that people find unappealing.  Many times we notice unappealing behavior in the opposite sex more then others.  I in fact notice his a lot.  I notice people a lot and I notice guys even more (can you blame me?).  Now I’m no way would I say guys can be more unappealing then girls. In fact, I am more bothered and at times ‘discussed’ by things I see girls doing or saying in public.

However, this past weekend I observed/overheard a few things about the opposite sex.  These five events all took place over the weekend. These are perfect examples as to why I am so called “picky”.  Cause sometimes guys just make me shake my head.

1. Walking down the street near NYU passed by two guys having a conversation. These two guys couldn’t have been older then 23 and defiantly were students.  I only really over heard the following:  “You need to play them the new Little Wayne song, it’s funny as hell and the ladies love his shit!”    Wow, I wish I had a boy that would have me over to his dorm room and play Little Wayne.  Oh wait……(*sigh*)

2.   “There were a lot of good bitches there…and then 10minutes later they all left.”   These guys crossing the street in hells kitchen/midtown need to realize that just maybe all those bitches saw them and ran away.

3.  When I can see the crotch seam to your boxer briefs then your pants are way to low.  That is all I’m going to say about that.

4.  Sitting at a coffee shop in union square area a young pretty good-looking guy walks in. Walks in door, walks over towards the register but stops at the refrigerated compartment where they have cold drinks. Picks up a bottle of water, throws it up in the air so it spins he grabs it as it comes down. He then turns around and walks out of the door. Personally, I like guys who can pay for their own water, I don’t know about you, but that is just me.

5.  “Well how much for two girls?”  Now we should be clear I was walking outside near 59^th and 6^th at 3am, and I saw this guy leaning against a building, talking on his cell phone.  The best part of this and he didn’t say like he was going up in price as in ‘wow that’s a deal maybe I’ll try two.  This guy said it like ‘WOW that’s a lot’ and moved down to two from whatever number he was at previous.

SIDEBAR:  I think women putting on makeup on in public are one of the most disgusting things in the world. I’m not talking a little lipstick and such. I’m talking pulling out their cakey gross spongy compact and rubbing it all over their face, or mascara on…it makes me throw up in my mouth especially when its on the subway!

I live in New York City!  The big apple, Gotham, The City that Never Sleeps.  It’s a pretty great place to live. It’s got a lot of “bests” going for it. However, it just might be the “worst” city for doing the WALK OF SHAME.

You can’t hop in a car and drive yourself to your front door.  You have to walk down flights of stairs or get in elevators with other people.  You can walk home, walk to the subway, or wait on the corner hand out for a cab.

In NYC there are just more people to witness the shame you are walking away from. (even when it’s not shameful) For most people walking usually becomes the main exit strategy.  Cabs are great, but early in the morning trying to get one while you draw stares from everyone around plus the extra cost sometimes just isn’t worth it.

One time I was seeing this guy and I spent most of the day sleeping and hanging out at his apartment (he went to work very early and I would usually leave later) just so I could wait for it to be later into the afternoon so I could maybe pull off going to an event rather then be making my way home in the early am in black tie attire.  (I even called in sick to work)

But we can’t always hide and sometimes we just have to own our silliness and our ‘shameful’ choices.

About a year ago I was leaving a guys apartment in order to get home, change/shower, and hopefully make it to work in time.  I was making my way around the hallway and I see six work guys doing construction on the doorway/entrance.  SIX GUYS! What’s a girl to do?

“Fuck it” I thought to myself and I walked right towards them. It was like they all turned their heads at the same time, I could feel the eyes and thoughts start to form on their faces.  So I did what any girl in my position should do.  I owned it!  I raised my hands and surrendered.  “Walk of shame” I announced as I flashed a little smile, “Walk of shame!”

Next thing you know I’m high-fiving all six guys as they hold the door for me and I made my way out into the city.  I might add it was cold and raining. I was dressed in gold open toe shoes and a cocktail dress at 8am….oh and I was late for work.