Bungled Booty Calls

This week has been a bit OFF. Still recovering from parental visit, I guess... you think I'd be over that by now... I'm finding I get a bit nuts when I've had an emotional rollercoaster weekend/week, and I can be reactive and reckless to try to get back to the normality of my life...

And yes, that's call(s) -- plural.

First one shouldn't have happened -- am I still such an idiot to think I'd could meet a "nice fella" by instant message? ("Yes, Madley, you are.") I know better... folks are lookin' to hook up when they're online like that, which is one of the reasons I usually don't have my Buddy List on (or is it so all my past digressions don't find me anymore?! Be honest here.)

So I'm on yakking with a friend about Mad Hot Ballroom (go see it, I've seen it twice this week -- great belly laughs! -- and this rumba scene is my favorite in the entire film) on the rare IM night... and some little bugger is just charming online. Obviously has done this many a time before, but I'll play.

Well, got on the phone after 15 minutes of flirty typing... ends up he's "only" ten years younger than me, and quite intelligent. But when you start playing "I'll tell you a secret" games on the phone... come on now, you know where this is going.

And I went. What a sorry, uncomfortable time this was. I'll never forget it -- for as wonderful T. was in NYC (my Cinderella in the City week), this smooth-talkin' fellow was just WRONG. I berated myself at the time the same as I'm doing now... wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

No MORE newbies like that. I end up disliking myself to no end, and that doesn't fit my life anymore.

===

M. is someone I met online six years ago -- back when IMing was new and... well, it felt better anyway. We actually talked for a long while, and met up with the intention of maybe dating for real. No such luck ;)

I used to call him my f*ck buddy, but after a little pressing on that phrase (as in I really enjoy his company and no, I don't want to share), it seems so disrespectful. (Is there something kinda off about that sentence?... hm...) And "friends with benefits" sounds cloying... so now, he's just my friend, M., that I see on occassion.

So the next evening I'm on IM with the same friend talking about Mad Hot Ballroom AGAIN and now the fabulous musical WICKED that Jeffrey took me to see (THANK YOU, THANK YOU, JEFFREY! Nothing like bawling my eyes out in the first three minutes because I love musicals so much!), and M. and I chat for a few minutes. He then says good night because he has to meet a client at 9:00. Night.

Two minutes later he's back on saying a pretty personal phrase that means somethin' special to the two of us and ka-boom, it's late but I'm going to be there in 30 minutes.

45 minutes later, I'm still in my car and I realizing M. wasn't out walking the dog. I try knocking again and get a "who is it?" I say me, and he's half dead.

"Were we supposed to meet tonight?"

Um, yeah... that's what your IM said and I confirmed. Ends up he really went to sleep and someone else must've hacked into his IM. I don't know how (I never know how), but some schmuck/schmuckette must have been laughing to high heaven because he and I really crossed paths.

Poor M. felt bad I'd driven the 21.6 miles over there, but it wasn't his fault (and no, I wasn't gonna stay). And now we have other IM addresses to use as well as a really good code we made verbally to assure that never happens again. Take THAT, stalker!

Or I guess we could use the phone too.

Bottom line... thank god the week's over.