BUT that geeky activity got me noticed by a hot shot at HQ. Mark was smart and sharp and fun and a big shot. And he liked me. I liked his company a lot. But, he lived in Connecticut and I lived in North Carolina and he was married. He never lied about it but still. I should have told him no thank you, call me when you are single. I didn't. He and his wife were on the way to separation and divorce but who knows what could have happened without me in the picture?
Anyway, we started something that lasted 5 years and 3 zip codes. I moved to Connecticut and he got a divorce. He was a study in contrasts. And he gave me many many very memorable moments. However, about half of those are great memories and half are really bad ones.
One Fall he wanted to take me to see New England season change and also Montreal (he was fluent in French and wanted to show off). We planned a week and it was fun to plan and anticipate. We left early one Saturday morning. We packed his cherry red sports car and stopped for coffee and headed to the Merritt Parkway. As soon as we got onto the highway, he turned on the CD player and out blasted - in marvelous sound:
Vivaldi's Concerto No. 3 in F major, Op. 8, RV 293, "L'autunno" (Autumn)
I remember it as one of the most perfect days ever. Full of wonder and joy and laughs and beautiful things.
Then there was the time, while I was on a business trip, when he went to my apartment and found and read all my journals. This would have been not so good on its own except then he told me about it. For no reason. And wanted my forgiveness. That was tough.
And there were other instances good and bad - a roller coaster. Finally I had had enough and I told him it was over. And he said it was not. So I moved to Minnesota. He still wanted to come visit all the time and I said no and no and no and no. And finally, he heard me. (He then started dating a woman I worked with. They got married and Google says they still are. They apparently spend a good deal of time at artsy fundraisers in Connecticut.
In Minnesota, I was too busy with work to even think about romance. Then I moved to California. One of the guys at the lab where I worked was a season ticket holder at the San Jose Giants (Go Section F!!) and gave me his ticket one night. I sat right in the middle of his buddies. They introduced themselves and then the game started and we all watched. Then the guy next to me pulled out a cigarette and I heard a very familiar sound I hadn't heard in years. I said out loud 'Zippo??' Yep. We discussed. (My parents always used Zippo lighters. I loved helping them change the flint and fill them with fluid.) Then I won the trivia contest (name 3 players, currently playing, who never played in the minor leagues). I just happened to not only know them but knew their positions and teams. Bobby (Mr. Zippo) fell in love. It was pretty funny.
One of the guys in the group got transferred the very next week and I bought his ticket for the rest of the season and became a member of the group. Bobby and I became an item. He raced Porsches and felt earthquakes a good 5 to 10 seconds before any other human. It was freaky. He also provided me with the only time I ever felt physically unsafe with any man. He got out of control one night while we were in Monterey at a Porsche convention. It turned out fine, but I began the weaning process immediately.
Shortly after that, I moved to Seattle. He called one day and asked if he could come visit the next weekend. I told him I was busy. "Are you really busy or have to change the air in your tires busy?" He was funny.
While I was still in California, one of my good friends was married to an Apple executive. Apple guy had a brother who was a journalist in Tacoma. He'd come to San Jose fairly often and the four of us would play together. He was nice and kind of interesting but his attraction was his skill in bed. He was good. He was very very good. He became boring and borish and when I moved to Seattle, he latched on like a barnacle. I tried to shake him off but it was hard to try too hard because did I mention how great he was at sex? Cause he was. But, finally...
It was a Saturday. One of my pet peeves was that he loved to go to movies but was a total movie snob and insisted on delivering his 'learned' opinion of each movie for an hour after the closing credits.
I went down to his house and sat him down and told him we were done. He suggested one last roll in the hay and OMG was I tempted but no, I said The End. On my way home I spied a movie marquee advertising Sister Act. This was a movie he would have lowered his standards enough to watch. So I pulled in and bought a ticket and not only enjoyed the heck out of that movie, I wallowed in no post-movie critique.
And that was it. That was the last. The final Romantic Relationship. I never felt the need for another. There are too many compromises I would have to make and I've never met anyone worth making those compromises for. And that was early on. Now I cannot imagine sharing the remote control with anyone. Under any circumstances. Ever.
Two final notes.
I do still enjoy those orgasms that I learned from that guy in South Carolina. Regularly.
And, while I've never had a romantic relationship with a woman, I honestly think that it's more of an opportunity or lack of it. Even though I cannot imagine another romantic relationship in my life, I could be wrong and if so, I'm as open to a female relationship as to a male.
p.s. As always, q's are totally welcome. Ask away.