Meeting With My Now Married Ex-boyfriend is Never a Good Idea

Not for the reasons you imagine, it's not the innocent mouth kiss hello and good bye, or the fact that he's married. It's because he is still in college football player shape, dresses impeccably, has great conversation skills, English tea caliber table manners, picks the best restaurants and always pays the bill without hesitation. I did notice this meeting that his teeth had dulled slightly from 19 year old super star white to a mere really really white. They were still perfectly straight. He has always had the freshest breath, nicest smile, the type of things you take for granted. You don't realize that one day you'll go out on a date with Mr. breath not so fresh, teeth kind of gray. Life lets you down that way.

For days "S" will not be enough for me. His teeth are extremely straight and white, but his table manners and conversations skills just don't match up with married ex. Last night, only 6 hours after having been seated at a cozy table in the garden of an upscale Italian restaurant, I was now seated in a window at a midtown dive. The rapt attention I held at lunch, the conversation so easy, the excitement, none of it was there. Earlier, I had felt adored, now I wondered if "S" wouldn't rather be at the next table sitting with these 2 low grade bimbos he seemed to have glanced at one too many times for my comfort. I suggested "S" spend the night at his own apartment. He did end up coming to mine, and everything was nice, but still changed.

Meeting with my ex-boyfriend who is far more successful than I ever imagined he could be, is just not good for me. It's life at it's cruelest. I never thought that highly of him in the years we dated. I never thought that history would hold him as the best looking guy I ever called boyfriend. I was sure when I passed on him, that there were plenty better guys out there for me. I was confident I would end up with someone far better than him, no question.

I was wrong.

This Time Last Year or The Story of How I Flashed Al Gore, Who Probably Thought I Was a Hooker

I can hear it now, “Tipper, we have to move back to Tennessee, NY is full of sinners. I saw a hooker in Starbucks today.” “Al, you’re over reacting.” “I am not! She lifted up her dress in the middle of the day, in a public place in a move that was clearly meant to advertise her wares, Tipper, trust me, I know Evil when I see it.”

More like: I was meeting someone a block away at Balthazar and arrived early. I thought a quick cup of coffee would be a safe idea, way safer than starting out at the bar and ending up drunk even before my lunch appointment started. That just isn’t a good idea when you have to head back to the office before too long. The coffee was just a time killer. I barely took a sip. I mostly stared into my compact, touched up my lipstick and made sure my garter/hose were secure. Maybe I’m a little shameless, but I didn’t think examining my hose in a crowded Starbucks in Soho qualified me as a blatant exhibitionist. It was a pretty automatic move and I didn’t think much of the eye contact I made with a table of three obviously southern business men who’s glance I caught when I looked up from my hemline. I continued my wait, repeatedly looked at my watch and sipped my coffee, wishing someone would get up and I could have their oversized, overstuffed seat.

It wasn’t until 15 or so minutes later, when a very young, very gay and very excited Starbucks employee approached me that I’d realized the men I pulled my dress up in front of included former VP and bible verse lover, Al Gore. The Starbucks guy just wanted me to know he thought it was great how I showed off my stuff, and he was waiting for the secret service guys to cuff me. A woman, who I hadn’t noticed before, with a thick French accent, was giddy with excitement at having spotted a celeb. I was thinking, since when is Al Gore a celebrity? I assured French woman and Starbucks guy it was unintentional. I promptly left the suddenly and eerily empty coffee shop.

My point: it’s stocking season world, beware. I have thighs and I’m not scared to expose them.

Sand in my shorts

14 more city days, then sunny Mexico.

I'm going to spend 7 whole days with the guy I've been seeing ("S"). Four plane rides (stopover in Atlanta both ways) and a week in paradise can put a lot of pressure on a situation. No option of: you go to your apartment and I'll go to mine, no friends to join us, no diversions, no pressing errands, no excuses and no where to run(/hide).

So far S and I have spent one weekend together, Friday evening to Monday morning. We called it vacation training. I had pms and that means plenty of mood/personality changes. We still managed to have fun, at least that's what we said and agreed upon. By Sunday I was used to his face and him being around all the time.

I did notice that we spent a full week apart immediately following our together weekend and haven't made another attempt at being together at length, without interruption since.

When he said A, he meant B

I should have known when he said his penis was medium sized and that he only went down on "girls he was in love with" it really meant he had a small penis and wasn't especially skilled in the plan B ways of providing girls pleasure. Lesson one: Medium means small and small means tiny.

Lesson two: If it falls from the lips of a guy with a beer in his hand, chances are it's not really a conversation you're in but the target in a plot for getting panties around ankles. If there's a chance he can take you home that night instead of having to call you to meet again a week later, he'll choose the same night option every time. When a guy is sending a clear channel signal that he is single, looking, successful and monied, he is counting on you to seize the moment because a catch so good won't be available for long... He actually expects you to believe that if you let him out of your sight for even a moment some mythical Manhattan man catcher will snag him during the short walk from the bar to the cab on the corner, so don't let him out of your sight. The catch me tonight approach, is a bar standard and generally works on my younger, more naive sisters. It's not for use on a slightly older, way wiser, been in plenty of bars type like me. I find that approach highly transparent and any glimpse of it makes me want to lead a guy on all night, use my best seduction techniques, imply plenty, conveniently forget to mention I have a boyfriend so that after investing several predator hours in trying to bed me, he ends up feeling used, having been taken for a ride.

In my 10 plus years of meeting boys in bars, I can comfortably say I've heard it all and am pretty spot-on with the he said this and means that part of knowing boys. A more disturbing trend I've noticed lately is in the behavior of my current's dear friends. I have repeatedly been flirted with and hit-on by guys that are supposed to be good friends of the guy I've been seeing these past months. It's pretty weird and at first I thought perhaps I'd become somewhat arrogant over time, thinking no man could resist me, but a come-on is a come-on and I'm old enough to read the signs. Perhaps when "Sleazy Guy 1" touched my bottom, I overreacted. My response of "Don't touch me, are you fucking crazy?" was met with "Oh, I was admiring your pants." I guess its possible (but highly unlikely) that my well styled look/adorable pants were just so irresistible, he had to touch the fabric to confirm such a dreamy outfit was in fact real. Another so called friend, I'll call him "Sleazy Guy 2" openly insulted my beau whenever we were left alone in what appeared to be a don't leave the party with him, but instead with me maneuver. A disturbing trend indeed, as if a girl comes to a party with her boyfriend and could be persuaded to leave with her boyfriend's buddy instead.