Those of you who’ve been reading my blog since the beginning, as well as those of you who have joined late in the game but who have read back through the archives, may remember E.S., a man whom I dated for about six months before breaking up with him. He thought we were something serious and I thought we were something casualso casual, in fact, that, while dating him, I slept with half of Manhattan, singly and in groups, on film and off, and blogged about it all. (Those of you curious to know the full backstory can peruse the archives from February through September of 2002; they’re rather sparse, as I wasn’t posting daily then. Those of you interested in the short version or a brief refresher can look here, here, here, and here.)
In any case, after we broke up, E.S. and I remained friends. He was in Boston for much of last school year, getting yet another graduate degree; he came back to New York in June. Upon his return, we started hanging out again, this time platonically. Every once in a while, I’d think, “Gee, maybe I made a mistake breaking up with himhe’s a great guy, I have lots of fun hanging out with him,” etc., etc., but I’d always return to knowing that I’d made the right decision.
So a little over a month ago, we made the terrible mistake of going to see Underworld, which I knew would be bad but which I didn’t expect to be nearly as bad as it was. Furthermore, it was Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, on which we traditionally fast from one sundown to the next. So I had to watch the damn thing without any candy or popcorn to distract me from its awfulness.
In any case, after the movie, we wandered around Union Square, talking about this and that, generally having a good time. Eventually I started getting cold, so I turned towards the subway. He said, “Actually, let’s sit down for a while, ’cause there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Now, there is absolutely nothing that strikes more terror into my heart than hearing the last nine words of that sentence. So I sat down, quivering now both from the cold and in anticipatory dread of whatever awful thing he was going to force me to deal with.
In the event, I wasn’t quivering nearly enough.
Because what he said was, “I read your blog. All of it.”
To be continued.
Ugh, at least you can use italics properly.
I take it that you wont be needing those gloves then?
to be continued? did you have a blackout when he said that, just like in a sitcom? We must be at a commercial break.
Angelo, “read” was in the past tense. He may or may not still read it. Stormster, don’t make any assumptions about the gloves until you’ve read the end. Jon, there was no blackout–I just like a good cliffhanger.
I loved Underworld! Oh, but I guess that wasn’t the point of that story, was it?
And you do realize you’re not really supposed to go to the movies on Yom Kippur either, right? Sorta defeats the purpose of fasting.
I… I actually like Underworld… Only the scene when Elder Ameila appears though. I totally looooove her… Her make up.. the awesome choker…and that DRESS! Oh my GAWD! So Pretty.. too bad she got slaughtered too soon and too fast.
Isn’t it a shocker, when someone, that you dated, or dating, or even, someone that you have known for a while, all of sudden, said that he/she reads your blog? I may not have blog too much personal stuff compare to yours… But I’d be freaking out…
I’m sure E.S. is a nice guy 🙂 Nothing meanie will come out of his mouth… If he’s meanie and bad and naughty, let me know, I’ll stick my foot up his ass wearing my Jimmy Choo.
If “Underworld” was a really bad movie, and you had to sit through it, that could probably count as atonement.
FINISH THE STORY! FINISH THE STORY!
Plese Finish the story … PLEASE!
Please, please, please finish the story! I’ve been checking your blog obsessively all day to find out what happened!
finish the story, finish the story. you can’t stop now!!
I honestly can say I hope I never hear those words from a certain particular person. Hope it went well for you!
all i can say is:
ah ha ha ha ha HA HA HA HA HAAAA!!!
I’m sorry but I haven’t experience this big of a cliffhanger since March 21, 1980 – the night that JR Ewing was shot.
Granted I was just a little over 5 years old at the time. I was a sucker for drama then and I’m a sucker for drama now.
Come on Linda Gray spill the beans
How do it happen that people you know tend to find your blog so easily? Wow.
Please finish the story!
Oh Shit…”Mama said there’d be days like this.” But she never said there would be cliffhangers that you sell your soul to know the end to.
Linda Gray? Oh no. Faustus is clearly Charlene Tilton all the way.
Except for, you know, the big blonde ‘do. Well, and the breasts.
Either way, I’m on pins and needles.