Enter the Slum Lord

As I have hinted at before, I've been spending a lot of time with the Diplomat lately. Part of the reason for that was just the way the circumstances fell- I was swamped with schoolwork so I couldn't spend a lot of time going out. Even so, it was a conscious choice to keep seeing the Diplomat even as I was telling everyone else I was busy. I really like spending time with him. He's smart, he's funny, he's sweet- and those are just the beginning. Lately, every time I spend the night at his house he makes breakfast in the morning. That may not sound like such a big thing, except that he doesn't (or didn't) usually eat breakfast. There have also been multiple occasions when him making breakfast turned into him bringing me breakfast in bed. I'm getting spoiled, let me tell you!

Still, with all this time that we were spending together, I had only met his friends once. When he asked me to go out with him to Korean BBQ with a bunch of his college friends, I was apprehensive but I agreed. The first time I met these people, I got way too drunk and acted like an absolute fool. Even worse, I didn't find out about how I'd acted until after. That's the thing about getting drunk, I suppose- you think you're totally pulling it off, while everyone around you is scared. Apparently, and I am still ashamed to even admit this, at one point I was rubbing on the Diplomat's friend's leg. What kind of person does that?? Not the person I thought I was.

So like I said, I was nervous to be seen around these friends again, but I figured if the Diplomat and I are going to keep dating, I'm going to need to be able to face his friends.

We were the first ones to the restaurant (it seems the Diplomat and I are the only ones that feel bad when we're not punctual.) Then his friends started trickling in. They included his two best friends, one of whom lives out of town now, the other best friend's sort-of-girlfriend, a bunch of the guys they went to college with, and a couple people they play on an indoor soccer team with.

Things got off to a rocky start. When the best friend that lives in town, Slum Lord, walked in the room, the first words out of his mouth were, "Hi Date Slut. Move over." W.T.F?? I was immediately put on edge. (And for the record, I did not move over.) That man seriously rubs me the wrong way. He acts like everyone should do what he says, just because he says it. He's rude and abrasive, especially to women. For god's sake, he refers to his sort-of-girlfriend as "38," because that's how old she was when they started dating. Call me a femi-nazi if you must, but that is just not okay.

Even with Slum Lord being dickish throughout dinner, the experience was mostly enjoyable. I felt like I was being really quiet, but I still managed to get to know some of the Diplomat's soccer friends a little better. When dinner was over, they decided to go to a nearby bar for drinks. I was getting tired and feeling cranky, but I put on my best brave face and tried to enjoy it as much as I could. And I did enjoy parts of it. The Diplomat's best friend that lived out of town seemed like a lot of fun, and I wish we'd gotten to hang out more. The soccer friends were sweet. His other college guy friends didn't say two words to me, but the Diplomat said afterwards that he thinks it's mostly because they're intimidated by women. What I really appreciated the most was when I texted the Diplomat to let him know that I was ready to go home, he made his polite excuses and bowed out for us instead of brushing me off or blaming it on me. That meant a lot to me.

That was several weeks ago, at the beginning of finals time. The weekend before I went out of town, the Diplomat invited a bunch of his friends over for ribs at his house. These were mostly people he plays soccer with- in fact, they might have all been soccer friends. I'm not entirely positive. Regardless, Slum Lord was there again. When I expressed my disinterest in seeing Slum Lord again, the Diplomat predicted that things would be better this time around, as Slum Lord tends to be less of a chauvinist around this group of friends.

The Diplomat was right, and things actually went better with him this third time around. He wasn't nearly as dickish. There was still some clear animosity between us, though. I think I shocked him at the end of the night when most everyone else had left, when I turned to him and asked point-blank, "Why do you hate me?" He said, "I don't hate you, I just don't trust you yet, and I don't like change." I think that sounds like a cop-out. I think it would have been much more honest if he'd said, "I don't like you for my friend," or, "You acted like a total ass the first time we met," or, "I hate everyone until I get to know them."

Either way, he's the Diplomat's friend. That means it doesn't matter how I feel about him, I'm not going to say bad things about him to the Diplomat or try to keep them from hanging out, or any of those other ridiculous things some girlfriends do. It does mean that I am going to be nice when we do hang out, and maybe someday we'll actually kind of like each other. But I'm not holding my breath.

Friday- Handsy McHandserson

When I was out working with the Dreamer on Friday, I was a little worried about getting back late for my second date with the Linguist. We had originally planned to do dinner, a movie, and drinks afterwards, but when I found out I was going to be working that day we changed it to a movie and then dinner. In general, movies aren't a great date early in a relationship, but we were both really excited about seeing Kick-Ass.

Now, let me say that I enjoy a certain measure of PDA. I've dated guys who weren't comfortable kissing or sometimes even holding hands in public, but I think as long as you're not being obscene, it's sweet. The Linguist, though, makes even me look like a prude. While we were sitting in our seats waiting for the movie to start, he was turned completely sideways in his seat so he could look at me, and he was rubbing my arm and the back of my neck while we talked. It was sweet in a way, but come on man! I was trying to watch the previews!

We walked over to the restaurant after the movie, and when we got to our table, he actually pulled my chair out for me. Chivalrous? Yes. I'm not an angry feminist who gets upset about men opening doors for me, but it did give me a bit of pause. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Does he push the chair in when I sit down, or do I? Women aren't trained for these kinds of situations anymore! I think I need to get myself to etiquette school.

The whole time, the Linguist kept making rather overt hints that he wanted to be invited back to my place. The day before when I changed plans because of painting he joked that I would need a massage afterwards, and that he'd be happy to oblige. Saying it once was cute. Saying it again on the date made sense. But saying it 3 or 4 times throughout the night? It was getting to be a bit much.

After dinner we ended up going to a Barnes and Noble- again. Don't get me wrong, I love bookstores. But he continued on his crusade of inappropriate PDA when he started trying to make out standing in front of the sci-fi section. He really just didn't get the hint that I didn't want to make out in public! I was able to contain him enough to get back to my car, and I offered him a ride to his since it was starting to rain.

Apparently getting in the car with me was his cute to jump over the seat and jam his tongue down my throat.

Okay, that's not fair. He is a good kisser. But I felt like teenagers making out in the car, and I even told him so. He thought that was awesome, though. When he started inching his hands up my top, I insisted it was time to go. And again, he had to all but invite himself over to my house. This time he got a firm “no, I don't want that.” Hints- this man does not take them.

The next day, I got a text from the Linguist that he'd had a fun night, and that for our next one he could bring a movie over to my house. What the hell??? I've been known to invite myself over from time to time, but never with someone whose last name I don't even know. I didn't respond right away, and later he sent me another text that said, “or did you not want to see me again?”

That was it. I wrote back, “Chill. I just haven't had a chance to respond yet,” which seemed to really put him in his place. He apologized profusely, but it wasn't enough. I think the Linguist's run has ended. Now I just have to figure out how to tell him in a way that he gets on the first go.

Saturday- Taking Dating With Me, Wherever I Go

I was in Portland this past weekend for a conference. I'm lucky enough to be one of those people who has friends scattered across the United States, so when I go somewhere, I always try to sneak in a visit with a friend or two. This time, it was the Buddhist. The Buddhist actually lives in Seattle, but it's only a couple hours drive away, so he came down to see me on Saturday.

Saturday morning he went in to his company's Portland office for some work thing he wanted to be trained on- I'm not sure I would be willing to go in to work on a Saturday for voluntary training, but I guess that just means I don't love my (hypothetical future) job as much as he does. That afternoon, he came to see my presentation at the conference. It's a true friend who will brave a professional conference just to give you moral support, let me tell you. After I was done presenting and shaking hands (go networking!), we went out to dinner.

One of the problems I'm having in my current city is a distinctive lack of good Thai food options. There are a few restaurants, but none that live up to my standards. The Buddhist knew of a place on the east side of Portland that he'd been to once and was incredible, so we decided to go there.

The first thing we noticed when we got there was the crowd of people milling about outside. We went up to the hostess, who told us there was an hour long wait. But, she said, we could go wait across the street at their bar, have some appetizers, and they'd let us know when our table was ready. They have a walkie-talkie system set up just for that purpose.

That sounded like a plan, so we went over to the bar and sat down. And waited. And waited. And waited. After almost two hours, several drinks, and some delicious Thai fritters (I really wish I'd paid more attention to what they are called- they were delicious!) we finally gave up. We'd thought about going to a movie, but I was still on east coast time, so I was exhausted even though it was only 7pm.

Instead, we went back to my hotel room and watched HBO in bed. I have to say, that's my favorite part about hotels. I don't have a tv in my room and haven't for years, so it feels particularly indulgent to watch tv from bed. It was even better when I saw what was on- Tremors! That terrible Kevin Bacon movie about the giant worm creatures under the ground. I remember loving that movie so much when it came out, and my brother was even worse- he tied up my parents' Netflix queue with all four (that's right, they made four) Tremors movies for months. The Buddhist had never seen it from start to finish, and it had us rolling the entire time.

Naturally, lying in bed together watching a movie led to cuddling, and cuddling led to making out, and making out led to...well, you can figure it out. I hadn't planned for that- truly, I hadn't! I don't go into every date with friends or romantic interests thinking it's going to end it bed- so I was glad I keep a condom in my wallet. I know, it sounds like a guy thing right? But I consider it a feminist act- I am taking control of my own sexuality without relying on a man to be responsible for my health and safety. I outright refuse to have sex without a condom, and it would suck to get to the the point of needing one only to have to stop because he didn't have one. So, I bring my own.

The next morning, we were woken up by the sound of someone on a loudspeaker. Looking out the window we saw people running by dressed in wigs and costumes- apparently it was the 32nd Annual Leprechaun Run. Had I known about it in advance, I totally would have participated! We even saw someone running dressed up as a giant pint of Guinness. We went and got breakfast, barely beating the post-run crowd, and then decided to walk over to the Saturday Market.

Yes, the Saturday Market is also open on Sunday.

We walked around for a bit looking at the different artists and stalls. My favorite part, though, was watching the Buddhist light up when he saw all the Tibetan goods. You see, the Buddhist is so named because he actually is a Buddhist. He even lived in Tibet for several years, and used to work with Buddhist monks in the U.S. At one shop, he found a vendor who he was able to speak a few words of Tibetan with. It's cliché, but seeing him so happy made me happy, too.

After the market, we went and had coffee and chatted while I waited for another friend I was spending the evening with. We both remarked upon how comfortable we felt with each other, especially since this was the first time we'd spent a significant amount of time alone together. It was a great day, but it made me miss all my friends out on the west coast. I'm going back for another friend's wedding in August, though, so this trip will hopefully tide me over until then.