Monday, December 05, 2005
Award Winning Weekend
I hope you're all sitting down (well, I'm sure you are, if you're working on a computer), cause this weekend was a DOOZY. I'm warning you right now, this is going to be a long one. It was an extremely eventful weekend.
Friday Night
Karen's 30th birthday party. We reserved a room at a lounge/bar in Chelsea, packed it with people and shook our booties all night long. Just as I was getting really down and dirty with some guy, possibly named Tony?, Marc arrived. It was all over the second I saw him. After I got finished with Tony, I got a big hug from Marc and we were pretty much inseperable the rest of the evening. We did shots together. We did a lot of dancing. The sexual tension was heating up, significantly. Around 1:30ish, we were sitting on a couch, my leg slung over one of his, touching from shoulders to knees, talking about boobs. Mine in particular. I had caught him blatantly checking them out and was teasing him about it, which segued into us talking about his obsession with breasts.
Me: For the record, I was told about a month ago that I have the tits of a goddess.
Marc: Really? I'm going to have to see that.
Me: Hmmmm, maybe (whatever! I wanted to rip my shirt off right then and there!)
More talking about sex, boobs, what not. Him being more blatant about his interest in me on a sexual level. We sort of agree on a plan for me to come over to his house (we didn't want to be obvious about it, we both knew a lot of the people in the room and some of them would have shot me for sleeping with him).
We get in a cab together, while our remaining friends pile into another cab. In the cab Marc asks me to show him the boobs.
Me: "NOW!?! In the cab?!?"
He looked around as if to ascertain who's watching, and said, "why not?"
Me: Oh, HELL no.
Marc: You could have just said no. You didn't have to say hell no.
We all arrive at their houses at the same time (cause they all live within 50 feet of each other) and I am getting nervous about blatantly walking up to Marc's house with so many people watching. There is some miscommunication between me and Marc about exactly what is going on, I think he is trying to bail on our rendezvous, so I get back in the cab and go home.
2 minutes later- commence text messaging:
Marc- Are you home?
Me- Nope, still in the cab on 125th
Marc- You should have stayed here.
Me- Do you want me to come back?
Marc- I thought that was the plan, but then you backed out.
Me- I did not back out, you did! Do you want me to come back or not?
Marc- Come on!
By this point I'm in front of my apartment. I'm not sure what he means by Come on. It can have a lot of different connotations. I get out of the cab. Go upstairs and call him. We argue for at least 20 minutes about where it all went wrong. He tells me how much he wants me. How often he thinks about me naked (serious). It's 4 am at this point. Marc asks me if I'll come over the next night. I say yes.
The cold, dawn of morning brings a harsh reality. Am I willing to sacrifice our friendship and a possible relationship for the opportunity to just have sex with him? Because lets face it, if I have sex with him, without having ever even gone on a date- there's no way he's going to respect me the next morning. There's no possible way that the kind of relationship that I want with him will happen if I have sex with him now.
Karen and I go for mani/pedi's and discuss it at length. She feels very, very strongly that going over to his house is a bad idea. As much as I hate it and it hurts like hell, I agree with her. I can't do it. I care about him too much to let us evolve into a purely sexual relationship.
I go home. I call Marc. I tell him I can't do it. He tells me that he woke up that morning and can't believe he said the things he said to me. He feels bad. It sounds like we are on the same page.
I get off the phone and sob.
Saturday Night
Abby (my roommate) and I go to a concert of a local band in the Lower East Side. We love them. We've seen them a few times and even convinced the lead singer to do shots with us. A fairly famous Grammy-award winning artist who I will not name so that I won't be sued at some point later in life, is there and makes a guest appearance on the stage with the band. Abby and I are 2 feet away from him, not believing our luck.
After the concert, the Famous Person (hereafter known as FP) is walking past Abby and I, while we are waiting at the bar for the lead singer because we want to do shots with him, and Abby gets mildly star-struck and asks FP if we can take a picture with him. He happily obliges, and then invites us backstage. It turns out, he's very nice and kind. Abby and I don't pay for another drink the rest of the night. :)
At one point, members of the band are walking around, offering CD's to girls who'll show them their tits. I'd had a LOT to drink. So I obliged. FP puts his hand on my shoulder, and says to me, "You have beautiful breasts." Oh, the validation!!!!!!
FP and I discuss my sex life, as he has caught me text messaging Greg, who is trying to convince me to come to over to his house. His interest cracks me up, but he is geniune and we talk for a while.
Lead Singer of the band makes me do a shot of Wild Turkey with him. I get back to FP and Abby only to find them making out. I am drunk. I am still upset about everything that happened with Marc and I am feeling like a 3rd wheel. I tell them I am going to Greg's house. I am doing my round of kiss-kiss goodbyes and when I get to FP, he pulls me closer by the hand, so that he is speakly quietly into my ear and says to me, "You're very sexy, very smart and very funny... Make sure this guy deserves you.." And then kisses me.
I laugh and say, "Thank you. "
He says, "And that's coming from a rock star."
I leave for Greg's house, where I get what I haven't gotten in 6 years. :)
Friday Night
Karen's 30th birthday party. We reserved a room at a lounge/bar in Chelsea, packed it with people and shook our booties all night long. Just as I was getting really down and dirty with some guy, possibly named Tony?, Marc arrived. It was all over the second I saw him. After I got finished with Tony, I got a big hug from Marc and we were pretty much inseperable the rest of the evening. We did shots together. We did a lot of dancing. The sexual tension was heating up, significantly. Around 1:30ish, we were sitting on a couch, my leg slung over one of his, touching from shoulders to knees, talking about boobs. Mine in particular. I had caught him blatantly checking them out and was teasing him about it, which segued into us talking about his obsession with breasts.
Me: For the record, I was told about a month ago that I have the tits of a goddess.
Marc: Really? I'm going to have to see that.
Me: Hmmmm, maybe (whatever! I wanted to rip my shirt off right then and there!)
More talking about sex, boobs, what not. Him being more blatant about his interest in me on a sexual level. We sort of agree on a plan for me to come over to his house (we didn't want to be obvious about it, we both knew a lot of the people in the room and some of them would have shot me for sleeping with him).
We get in a cab together, while our remaining friends pile into another cab. In the cab Marc asks me to show him the boobs.
Me: "NOW!?! In the cab?!?"
He looked around as if to ascertain who's watching, and said, "why not?"
Me: Oh, HELL no.
Marc: You could have just said no. You didn't have to say hell no.
We all arrive at their houses at the same time (cause they all live within 50 feet of each other) and I am getting nervous about blatantly walking up to Marc's house with so many people watching. There is some miscommunication between me and Marc about exactly what is going on, I think he is trying to bail on our rendezvous, so I get back in the cab and go home.
2 minutes later- commence text messaging:
Marc- Are you home?
Me- Nope, still in the cab on 125th
Marc- You should have stayed here.
Me- Do you want me to come back?
Marc- I thought that was the plan, but then you backed out.
Me- I did not back out, you did! Do you want me to come back or not?
Marc- Come on!
By this point I'm in front of my apartment. I'm not sure what he means by Come on. It can have a lot of different connotations. I get out of the cab. Go upstairs and call him. We argue for at least 20 minutes about where it all went wrong. He tells me how much he wants me. How often he thinks about me naked (serious). It's 4 am at this point. Marc asks me if I'll come over the next night. I say yes.
The cold, dawn of morning brings a harsh reality. Am I willing to sacrifice our friendship and a possible relationship for the opportunity to just have sex with him? Because lets face it, if I have sex with him, without having ever even gone on a date- there's no way he's going to respect me the next morning. There's no possible way that the kind of relationship that I want with him will happen if I have sex with him now.
Karen and I go for mani/pedi's and discuss it at length. She feels very, very strongly that going over to his house is a bad idea. As much as I hate it and it hurts like hell, I agree with her. I can't do it. I care about him too much to let us evolve into a purely sexual relationship.
I go home. I call Marc. I tell him I can't do it. He tells me that he woke up that morning and can't believe he said the things he said to me. He feels bad. It sounds like we are on the same page.
I get off the phone and sob.
Saturday Night
Abby (my roommate) and I go to a concert of a local band in the Lower East Side. We love them. We've seen them a few times and even convinced the lead singer to do shots with us. A fairly famous Grammy-award winning artist who I will not name so that I won't be sued at some point later in life, is there and makes a guest appearance on the stage with the band. Abby and I are 2 feet away from him, not believing our luck.
After the concert, the Famous Person (hereafter known as FP) is walking past Abby and I, while we are waiting at the bar for the lead singer because we want to do shots with him, and Abby gets mildly star-struck and asks FP if we can take a picture with him. He happily obliges, and then invites us backstage. It turns out, he's very nice and kind. Abby and I don't pay for another drink the rest of the night. :)
At one point, members of the band are walking around, offering CD's to girls who'll show them their tits. I'd had a LOT to drink. So I obliged. FP puts his hand on my shoulder, and says to me, "You have beautiful breasts." Oh, the validation!!!!!!
FP and I discuss my sex life, as he has caught me text messaging Greg, who is trying to convince me to come to over to his house. His interest cracks me up, but he is geniune and we talk for a while.
Lead Singer of the band makes me do a shot of Wild Turkey with him. I get back to FP and Abby only to find them making out. I am drunk. I am still upset about everything that happened with Marc and I am feeling like a 3rd wheel. I tell them I am going to Greg's house. I am doing my round of kiss-kiss goodbyes and when I get to FP, he pulls me closer by the hand, so that he is speakly quietly into my ear and says to me, "You're very sexy, very smart and very funny... Make sure this guy deserves you.." And then kisses me.
I laugh and say, "Thank you. "
He says, "And that's coming from a rock star."
I leave for Greg's house, where I get what I haven't gotten in 6 years. :)
Labels: Marc
