Sex & the Single Woman: Only in the Movies
You know how in the movies a guy will make a huge romantic gesture (hold a boombox in the rain, climb from his limo to a prostitute’s fire escape) and we’ll all sigh and say, how come that never happens to me?
Well, be careful what you wish for.
On Friday night I hit up my friend’s boyfriend’s birthday party at a posh lounge. I had two other friends in town visiting, so I had planned to make it a semi-early night. But no sooner had we announced our plans to leave (around midnight) than the birthday boy’s cousin popped up and sweet-talked us (okay, me) into joining them at another club. Of course, said club had a cover charge, and I guiltily paid up for me and my friends.
Soon enough, Cousin Dan and I were dancing and kissing. But I wasn’t really feeling it. I don’t like PDA, and I REALLY don’t like PDA with British guys who can’t kiss. After a while I announced that my friends and I were leaving.
Cousin Dan was not pleased. “You want to stay over at mine?” he asked.
I pointed to my friends. “No, I have houseguests. What do you want me to do, tell them to find a hotel?”
He really didn’t seem to get it that I was not the type to ditch my friends. And when I finally left, after exchanging numbers, he seemed pretty pissed. No sweat off my back.
My friends and I hiked for 10 minutes to the bus stop. We had been waiting a few minutes when my phone rang. Guess who: Cousin Dan.
“Where are you?” he asked. I told him we were waiting for a bus, near the Tube, but on which street I had no idea. He sounded determined to find us, but since even I didn’t know where we were, that seemed unlikely. Part of me wanted to see him wander around London while we sped away on our double-decker.
Sure enough, our bus pulled up. “Gotta go – our bus is here! Sorry!” I hung up and my friends and I ran onto the bus’s top deck, laughing and saying things like “what an idiot” and “he was never going to make it.”
And then I looked up. Cousin Dan was making his way to our seats.
My eyes must have bulged out of my head. We stopped laughing.
Apparently he had seen three buses, jumped on one, and as luck would have it, landed on the right one. Yay for me.
Of course, that still left the matter of where the hell he was going to sleep. My friends were shacking up in my bed. I had planned to sleep on the couch. And now this guy had invited himself over? Fabulous. I ended up making up the bed in the empty (read: off-limits according to our agency) bed in my flat, but had to set the alarm for early in the morning so I could clear out in case the agency came by to show the room.
The whole thing felt like the end of “The Graduate,” where they get on the bus, look at each other, and think, what the hell have I just done?
So much for big gestures!