Walk on By

Following yesterday's crazy day at the office, I decided to opt out of my cute skirt and sharp-as-a-martini-olive-toothpick heels in favor of Joel McHale's latest episode of The Soup. While I find the show hilarious, Joel McHale is also one of my regular guy celebrity crushes. There really is something attractive about a guy who can make me laugh.

To complement my night of watching The Soup, I decided to order Chicken Tom Yum soup from Little Basil. After leaving the office to pick up my order onthe  way home from the office I spotted something. Walking toward the restaurant, I noticed a cyclist approaching from the opposite direction. Yes, I think bicycles are wonderful means of transportation; when operated properly, in the street¾not on the sidewalk.

This guy was a bit douchey looking. Not quite hipster, not quite Goldman Sachs golden boy. A blazer tailored to fit a trust fund brat from the 80's, designer jeans, loafers and...sunglasses. It's February. In New York. Sunglasses? I guess he thought the scarf tucked into his blazer provided sufficient warmth. At least he was wearing socks with those loafers.

As I walked by him and reached for the door to enter Little Basil, he complimented me by saying,"Don't you look pretty today."

Turning to meet his glance, I simply replied "Thank you." I really wasn't interested. Not only was I not into him, just not really into the game right now...at all.

And then he said it, "You look really pretty. I bet your underwear would look pretty on my bedroom floor."

I couldn't even manage an eye roll. It was one of the dumbest things a man has ever said to me. Ever. No, really.

With an exhausted sigh I said the first thing that came to mind, "Too bad you'll never know."

After leaving bicycle boy nearly crashing into a quota-happy traffic agent (it is the end of the month), I went inside, waited for my soup...and had a martini to complement my sassy attitude.

--Frankie

Image by Flickr user Padraic.

Somebody That I Used To Know

As Valentine's Day crept closer I wanted to share a new story. It's been a bit over a year since my last post and wouldn't you know; I received a little Valentine's surprise email today.


I am still single. Still in the city. And now loving everything going on in my life.



And then it happened.


Despite hearing, through the grapevine(aka Facebook), that he is now engaged, I received a Valentine's email from a certain someone. Perhaps I should tell him I moved to Costa Rica and now have three Tico children. Or maybe tell him I relocated to Staten Island and am now married to the mob--those ladies seem like they are making some good money. The truth just doesn't seem as entertaining, but I do still smile when glancing around my new Murray Hill studio. Yes, it's true--my apartment. I was sitting here in my apartment on my cozy bed, listening to Goyte, when this appeared...suddenly in my inbox:

Hi Frankie,

I was just cleaning up and throwing out old contacts when I found your name and email address- I didn't even know I had.

I thought I'd ask what became of you, and where you are in the world.

Warmly,
Lucifer

Dumbass guys always reach out to their ex-girlfriends after they make serious commitments to their current girlfriends.

Hmmmm...thank goodness he is only somebody that I used to know.

--Frankie

We Really Do Want Nice Guys!

According to Dr Tim Phillips of the University of Nottingham and Institute of Psychiatry, King’s College, London, females have evolved from desiring mates who embody overwhelming brute strength, to those who would serve as better, more nurturing lovers.

As ladies do often claim, nice guys are more desirable! Keep your heads up sweethearts, we'll come around soon!

--Frankie

Love and Learn

These have been a busy, chaotic, though progressive few months.

Phil did not work out. I figured that was my door which closed, as soon thereafter, I landed a position at a fresh, new travel publication as the Assistant to the Publisher.

Because I had a great deal of free time on my hands and can never sit still for more than five minutes, I had also applied to a master's in publishing program to further my education. Ruby knew that I had been awaiting a large, thick envelope and she awaited the opening of a choice bottle of red that was to be used to celebrate my victory.

As we had both been occupied with our careers and, I now with schoolwork; the festivities had to wait. We finally vowed to order takeaway from Manganaro's and don our best PJs while posting up on the sofa to watch the latest installment of the ALCS, as we were waiting to see which team would face my beloved Yankees.

Following the game, we sat on our sofa, savoring the fruity nose of our 2007 Casa Lapostolle Cabernet Sauvignon Cuvee Alexander, celebrating our personal victories and watching coverage of the rescue of the trapped miners in Chile.

"It is unbelievable when considering the strong power of the human spirit", commented Ruby.

"Yes. Listen to the chants; the love of this community and the care they share for these men", I said, "Love is an incredible, indestructible force. Their spouses, children, friends; so moving to witness their hope and happiness".

"Do you think we will ever find love like this, Frankie?" asked my dear friend, "Love has been so difficult for me lately. I have been questioning who and how I love. The questions come to me in dreams and I don't know what to tell myself at times."

"Ruby; we have this love around us now", I said, "We have the most caring, loving friends, and when the time is right the romantic love will arrive as well. No one knows what trials these men faced before being trapped in the mine; though this is certain, whatever they were worried about before these last few months, is probably an insignificant or forgotten issue now."

"I know, though one thing that is truly bothering me lately is the lack of support for my lifestyle from my mother. Why can't our parents see that they are lucky to have us in their lives regardless of how we live our lives?", asked Ruby.

"That I can't answer Chiquita. Our parents are only human and subject to err; though being human, they are also able to recognize they are wrong, feel compassion, and love...we simply hope they don't lose too much time holding a grudge against us for not allowing them to live vicariously through our lives."

"I guess you're right, Frankie. Simply hope she recognizes this sooner rather than later."

I hugged my friend, grabbed the bottle, and refilled her glass. "I would like to toast; to a love like this", as I gestured toward the television, "a love like ours, a love we have not yet found, and a love for those who have not yet recognized the joy of returning our innate, undying love."

--Frankie

Flashbacks

Even when I'm sleeping, I know it's a memory.

I walk into my high school Spanish class and she runs up to me and throws her arms around me. She kisses my lips. I'm astonished and look Cindy in the eyes. I've spent many evenings looking into those deep amber pools, but now I can't. I turn away and walk to my seat, which is at the back of the class. I sit down immediately and wonder if anyone in the class saw that. No one looks over.

Cindy sits almost across from me and gets up again. She walks over to me. I'm in the next aisle. I'm frightened and nervous, but most of all I'm turned on. This doesn't surprise me though. I've had a crush on Cindy for years. We were best friends in middle school, and that friendship just molded into something else over time. But I don't know what it is. What is it when you wind up stroking your best friends' hair and talking for hours? What is it when you snuggle in bed with your best friend for hours? What is it when you cuddle and hold each other? Hold hands? Spend hours on the phone together? Even  discuss the possibility that you should both be in a relationship together?

Cindy's got her hands on my knees and she is kneeling in front of me. Her fingers are lightly circling my knees.

 "Ruby, please. I saw the note. I know how you feel," Cindy says softly, smiling. "I feel the same way. I think we should try. Trust me."

She pries my knees apart gently with her hands and runs one hand under my knee. The other hand travels up my thigh and under my skirt.

"Cindy, I just don't know," I whisper, feeling my face turn redder by the second. "I don't think I can. I have a boyfriend and..."

"I have a boyfriend too. Well, I did. Now I don't, but that isn't important. What do you want? I want to be with you," she says completely confidently. Her fingers likely stroking my inner thigh. "No one has to know."

"I just don't know," I say leaning over toward her. I'm aware Cindy, who is kneeling in front of me, can see up my skirt and her fingers are fluttering over my panties. I try to remember which ones they are, but all I can think is that I want them off.

"After school..." Cindy starts saying.

"Cynthia Jones, get back into your seat!" screams our Spanish teacher, flamboyantly raising his arms. He looks shocked, but then smiles knowingly. "Save the gossip for after class ladies."

"Meet me at my locker after class," Cindy whispers as she takes her seat.

The class starts. I cross my legs and try not to look at Cindy.

I want to meet her at her locker, but I don't. I don't trust myself enough. I don't know what I'm feeling. Last week my Mom pulled me aside and told me that it would be hard if I were a lesbian,  so I shouldn't be one. Since then, I've felt like I've stepped in quicksand and I can't pull myself out. What if everyone knew? Mom must know. Cindy knows I love her. I wrote her a love note. She does know, but I can't be with her. I just can't be that way. And what if she is fooling me? What if she doesn't really feel the same?

Cindy does feel the same. She shows up at my front door after school and we go to the playground and crawl into one of the cement tunnels. Although I don't trust myself, Cindy doesn't care. She takes my hand palm-to-palm and puts her arm around me. It's a bit awkward at first and we laugh, but then she kisses me. The kisses are soft and moist. Her chest is against mine. My legs are wrapped around her torso.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

I wake up alone in bed, sweating. - Ruby

For Shore

Ah my summer of 30; it started back in June. Phil wanted to celebrate my 30th birthday with me, though instead I took off to Miami with Pamela and Alexis. It was all fun and games baking on South Beach, stuffing our faces at Raffi's, and trying to avoid every nightclub that has been featured on Jersey Shore. And yes, I still love my favorite gelato shop, despite it's recent takeover by MVP + IFF .

The Fourth of July holiday had been one of the only large blocks of time I was able to dedicate to Phil and apparently he was feeling a bit more independent as the amount of time I was able to dedicate to him dwindled.

As the summer progressed, I spent more time at Pamela's house. We have been relaxing more than partying, as it seemed these Jersey Shore kids like to hang in my out of town spots and I did not want to venture out to Seaside during their filming of the third season.

We had a low-key, good old fashioned, backwoods weekend. It started with the Elks club on Friday and barbecue on Saturday. Beer pong balls flew through the air and I listened intently to the older dudes as they told their stories and repeatedly complemented Pamela and me on our sassy personalities.

Returning to Manhattan via NJ Transit on Sunday I called Phil, who did not answer. Somewhere between Elizabeth and Newark my telephone rang and Phil's name illuminated my screen.

"Hey Baby, how are you?", I asked, as I thought perhaps we would hang out later.

"I'm good, I'm good, Frankie", he replied sounding strange, "drivin' back to tha Island from Seaside".

"I am on the bus returning from Jackson; We could have hung out if I knew you would be down on the Shore", I mentioned.

"Oh well, I went down with a few people. Ya know", he was trying to say it, though could not.

"Oh. I see.", was all I could think to say, though I needed to get the words out of Phil, as I knew they would not lead to progress between us. I continued,"Why don't you come up and meet me at the apartment in one hour? I have not seen you for quite some time".

"Frankie...", it was all he could say. All he could say until it all came out. "Frankie, you have not been around and you live so far away...and..."

I continued for him,"You've been seeing another girl."

"Well, yes, though not before you told me how you did not want to live in New York or Staten Island. You're too spontaneous for me. There is no room in your life for me. It's clear. I want something...more...now.", was Phil's impassioned explanation.

"I can't believe this. You introduced me to your family...is that what you do with every girl?", I asked astonished.

"No, Frankie. I was falling for you. Really. Deeply. Though you make me feel like you don't care. It's like I don't fit into your life. You have this life plan and I can't compete."

"I don't know what to say", was all I could say.

"I'm sorry Frankie", he was kind though stern.

"Yea. Me too Phil", I said,"though don't sweat it too much. You're right, you don't fit into the plan and I don't need you...considering I have a brand new pack of batteries in my bag". It was after this final comment when I hung up on Phil and resolved to vote myself off Staten Island.

--Frankie