h2>Dating : I should’ve packed better Spanx
We are headed up to Dallas to meet up with a girlfriend in the middle of a pandemic. We have booked at a very modern art hotel that has a pool and plan to attend an event put on by another girlfriend. Just trying to escape the heaviness of J moving out and not being able to do anything during the week. Something fun to attend, get dressed up and chill by a pool. We get dressed and it feels so good to put on a real clothes and do our hair. The event is great but I catch a glimpse of myself in the venues mirror and vow to spend at least a month in plank to firm up my mom curved core. Or maybe not. Maybe I need to buy the higher power Spanx.
A few weeks before, an old friend had messaged me on facebook to wish me a happy birthday. I wasn’t interested in pressing anything, even chit chat, because I hate my birthday. I message back a kissy face emoji and sign off. He is a chef and while I do follow him on social media, I am indifferent about his food and life. Just an old friend follow.
While doing dishes the night before the Dallas trip, I was reminiscing about lighter times and some teenage house parties. Birthday message guy was definitely in attendance at all of them but not on my radar.
However, I remember standing in a drive way with him at one of these house parties. It was just us out there and I guess maybe we were smoking cigarettes and being angsty. I felt super magnetic chemistry with him and lots of sexual tension. He was not my type at all but we definitely had a vibe. I was fresh off a hot drama breakup and sworn off boys though. I was smarter at dating when I was 17.
We were standing out there looking at the moon, tipsy off warm Lone Stars and he said to me, “You know Lauren, I’m French. We are the best kissers. You should let me kiss you, it will be the best kiss you ever have.” I don’t remember being super physically attracted to him but I do remember thinking he had that little shit bold cockiness that always slays me because I am a moron. He had that type of personality that instantly ups attractiveness by maybe 50 percent *note to debate that percentage over drinks sometime*…and I felt that dumb chemistry.
So I probably flipped my hair and said something like, “yeah whatever, kiss me.” He did and he wasn’t lying. It was one of those kisses where they hold your face just right and you feel it all the way in your toes. He was a perfect kisser and kissed exactly how I kiss and exactly how I want to be kissed. Movie kiss. Nothing further happened with him though. I have a childhood memories with him scattered through out but that’s it.
So I recall all of this while doing dishes and I’m like I’m going to ask him if he remembers that and how we even got there. He replies back..all cool…, “yeah I vaguely remember doing that and saying that. I apologize for being so forward at the time, but I wasn’t lying.”
He sure wasn’t. Asshole.
At this point, I should’ve ended the conversation. Left it sweet and innocent like that. A nice summer lovey 90’s movie memory moment.
But of course, I dont. I am in Dallas eating late night hotel food out of a to go box on the floor while my daughter and friend crack up over a funny video show. My friend and I die over these mashed potatoes we ordered because we never eat white carbs. I die over him and he and I stay up all night chatting.
I send him pics from the Dallas event. We talk about ordering room service drinks and traveling to his work events together. I love talking with him. I now think he is super handsome, I imagine he smells good, is still that dreamy kisser and I want to lay around and hear all of his stories. I want to kiss him again and know everything about him. I am an idiot.
We drive home the next day. It’s a 5 hour drive that turns into 8. There is a gigantic 18 wheeler wreck on the way home. My child was asleep but of course woke up right when we slowed to sit in the traffic. It was a sign. The universe sending foreshadowing. We are stuck in a standstill for hours. I message him when we finally get home. He is now “Chefguy1” or “CG1” for short. We talk all the time and finally, the following week, I message him that I will be around his neighborhood for an errand and would he like to get dinner together? I am super nervous to see him but would like to breathe the same air as him. He is, of course, cute and says, “Yeah me too. But we can’t continue this You’ve Got Mail relationship forever. Come over when you’re off of work.”
Hotel Room Floor Mashed Potatoes
- 3 pounds red potatoes scrubbed and cubed
- 16 tablespoons (2 sticks) butter (salted or unsalted)
- 2tblsps garlic powder
- 2tsps Tony Chachere’s Cajun Seasoning
- 1/2 cup chicken broth
- 1 8oz. container creme fraiche
- Place potatoes in a large pot and fill with cold water, Cover and bring to a boil. When it reaches a full rolling boil, uncover it and reduce the heat to -high. Boil the potatoes until fork tender, about 25–30 minutes.
- Drain your fork tender potatoes. Return the potatoes back to the pot, and add in butter and seasonings.Mash. Add in broth until moist. Add in creme fraiche and watch how the potatoes become smooth and sexy. Eat while thinking about how you really shouldn’t deprive yourself of white simple carbs, life is short. Also think about why all the smooth and sexy guys are trouble and you know it but you still love them.
