Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Boston and U2

So I only have two words to describe last night ... guilt fellatio.

That being said, let's begin at the beginning. I arrive at the concert to meet Boston and I am about a half hour late. I was in bumper to bumper to get in. It was awful. I sneak in a flask of Captain Morgan's in my jeans and after two large diet cokes the flask is empty. Boston and I are laughing and having a good time. That is until my mouth gets in the way. You see, something that you must know about me is that sometimes I can be a bit too honest and open. Sometimes I say things and share tidbits that are just better left unsaid. Add alcohol and a mild pharmaceutical relaxer into the mix and my mouth becomes a spigot of inane spewings for which there is no shut off valve.

We have just sat through the Black Eyed Peas, opening for U2. The lights are up and everyone is talking, taking bathroom breaks and getting concessions. Boston and I are discussing my new tattoo that you can sort of see through the small tear in my jeans. I tell him that he will get to see it later. ONLY meaning that I know we are sharing a hotel room and I know when I put on my jammies and we are not in public I would love to show it off. He laughs and says, "I didn't think it was going to be that easy. I thought I was going to have to work for it."

I laugh and immediately think of the poll I put up yesterday. Inside my head somewhere I thought it was a good idea to share this information. So I chime, "It is funny you should say that. I actually put a poll up on this blog that I have going on whether we should have sex tonight." As it comes out of my mouth I truly think this is a harmless, kind of fun thing. It is flirty. The poll is playful. I expect his reaction to be something like oh yeah? And how did I do or So what is the verdict. However, in the specs of time that dragged on after those cursed words dripped from my lips, I see that his real reaction differs greatly from my imagined one.

His first words were, "Oh, that's nice. Whatever."

I think maybe he is joking. I am still thinking this is really no big deal. It is funny. "Are you serious? Are you mad?"

"Yeah I am mad. That is so lame."

I try my best to put out the fire and desperately wish I had a flux capacitor and a Delorean. "Don't be mad. I didn't tell you because I thought you were going to get upset. I told you cause it's fun. It's funny"

"Yeah, maybe for you. Everyone we know reads this and knows about me. That is so weak."

"No it's not like that." I have to admit I have told Detroit about the blog but I don't think he really reads it. I never thought that this was going to swing so far out of my favor. I swear if I think about the look of anger and bewilderment on his face makes me want to cry AGAIN. "Please can we just forget about this. Let's not this ruin our night."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's just stop talking about it."

We sit in awkward silence for a moment and thankfully U2 comes on the break the stifling tension. Sitting there I begin to think about what I said, wishing I hadn't. I wished not to be there and hoped I really wasn't. The more I wished the worse I felt until I began to feel the sting of tears in my eyes. I am now telling myself not to cry. I am begging myself not to make this situation any more miserable than it is. But it cannot be helped. In the noise of the stadium and my mind I begin to weep. Almost immediately Boston turns to me and says, "Tears don't work on me and if you don't smile I am going to punch you in your boob."

This does little to help, but at least I think he isn't piping mad anymore. Soon he reaches over and caresses my knee and holds my hand. It takes many songs and most of the concert, but I begin to recover.

When One came on, he pulled me to him as we stood. He put his hands on my hips and laced his fingers with mine. We swayed to the beat of the song and I began to weep again. I was a hot mess inside my mind but I didn't want to harp or exacerbate the situation, so I went with it.

Soon the concert was over. We went out into the parking lot and drank wine while we waited for the long line of cars to clear. We danced sweetly to Nat King Cole's Love. He followed me to the hotel, us both guided by my GPS. We were laughing again and I had almost completely forgot about my earlier faux pas. I was betting so did he.

Up in the room we decided it was too late, 1:30 AM, to walk to any bars. We cracked open the second bottle of wine. Before long we were kissing. Soon, I apologized for saying anything - not for having the blog. He asked who honestly knew about it. I told him Detroit was really the only one we both knew. Some more tongue tango and we found ourselves into a mammoth make-out session that, without going into every detail, ended with, well, see the first line of this post.

Before we drifted off to sleep, I do remember us having a brief discussion about him standing me up for the football game. He says that he doesn't remember making plans. I recount to him every detail of the phone conversation when we made plans. I am pretty sure I said it doesn't matter now anyway. I am pretty sure I feel that maybe we are even. Actually, maybe he does have one up on me.

This morning, we woke up at almost 11 and headed out to lunch. We had sushi at Ra, walked around Tempe, has a refreshing sweet treat at Mojo Yogurt. It was a lovely afternoon and I enjoyed getting to know him better. We said our goodbyes and I headed back home. He did the same. He said that he, Detroit and the boys are coming to Prescott for Halloween. I think that would be fun. We will see.

I almost didn't blog about this, because I was so embarrassed. I almost didn't share; however, what is the fun and the honesty in that? Also, just so everyone knows since I have deleted the poll, the result was a tie between Let him get you off and then roll over and say you are tired. and Don't make a decision now. Just see where the moment and the tequilla take you. I hope you enjoy.

Happy to be home,
I.D.

11 comments:

  1. I love this blog! FINISH that memoir, I'm dying to read it after this! <3

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  2. Well, I think you did the right thing in telling him, even if you didn't really mean to. AND I think you did the right thing in not apologizing for it! PS- As soon as I logged into my computer I just had to check to see what happened. I never would have guessed!

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  3. those fags better come out with us on halloween. (wait...is the sponsor of GSA allowed to say fags?)

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  4. I think the "punch in the boob" comment is hilarious. BTW, I.D., I do read your blog. Also, what up Wildfire? You better be ready to party your ass off if you are going to talk smack.

    Detroit

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  5. Well, get your ass up here so I can blog about you in my next dating exploits entry. Make sure you bring that boy with you so I can surely embarrass myself again. By the way, did he mention any of our evening to you?

    I.D.

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  6. I do not want to be in your blog; I just don't want to called a fag by someone who has never met me. No, all he said was it was a great show and he had an awesome time. If you are lucky, we will be there.

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  7. I hope I am that lucky. It has been since forever that I have seen you. I promise Prescott will be a good time. All sorts of hot mommas in hot costumes. you know how I roll. And, breakfast burritos, haunted hotels, and much fun to be had.

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  8. Detroit, if YOU are lucky you'll be here...and you can show me your fag side. :) I talk smack...get used to it.

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  9. Wildfire,

    You will learn I talk a little smack myself; I just don't call people fags before I meet them. I guess it's because I have class. See, told you I like to talk a little smack.

    LOL,

    D

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  10. good try, detroit. if it makes you feel better, i promise to call you a fag AFTER i meet you, too. of course by that time, you'll probably want me to call you bitch, too. ;)

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  11. interesting Halloween pictures - looks like you had a lot of fun - glad you're better - happy November only 21 days until your B-day -

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