Your Doorman is Not Your Dad

21 May

In December, I signed up for  And I’m not afraid to say it.  I was with my family for the holidays, and it just seemed like the right time to further press upon them that I am not a lesbian and that I will proactively search to find a great love.

The first person that I saw on the site was Hunter.   And he was the most beautiful piece of perfection.  He was probably the poster child for the site who gets matched up with every girl when they sign up to establish that there are normal people on there; similar to how we all used to be friends with Mark Zuckerberg on Facebook.  We chatted a bit, I got bored with his questions, then I met Reed and I totally forgot about him.

In March, I was out downtown with my girlfriends from work and I circa midnight I get a text from Hunter asking where I was, because he thought he saw me across the bar.  Keep in mind that I had never met Hunter before.  I look around, and sure enough, there he is with some guy that I know from college.  And P.S. his pictures weren’t exactly a spitting image of his real life self (he’s still a babe though).  I went up to him, the guy from college totally intercepted the conversation and I maybe got two words in with Hunter.   He sent me a few texts in the following weeks asking me out, I ignored them.  Then I totally forgot about him again.

Last Friday, two nights before the destruction of Marlie & Me, I was walking through the lobby of Marlie’s building to meet him before dinner and this gorgeous couple was walking out right as I was walking in.  It was like a scene from a movie – the girl was a spitting image of Kim Kardashian with long black hair blowing behind her and the guy was just so good looking.  I ran up to Marlie’s and announced that I had seen another cute couple in the building, and they, in fact, might have been cuter than Marlie & Me.   To Marlie, this statement hit like a bullet because although he care about status, he cares more about being the youngest and best looking resident of this prestigious downtown apartment building.  He literally asked me fifteen questions about this mystery meat I had seen in the lobby, but clearly I had no interest in answering them because I was redoing my hair and I actually didn’t care.

When Marlie & Me parted ways, I kept me phone off for a few days to avoid breaking my #1 rule of life (do whatever it takes to cease all interaction with said person when they turn against you).  When I turned my phone on for a quick second on Monday, I had a text from Hunter, asking if I was in the TK building on Friday night.  No way.  No. Way.  That was him, the pretty little doll dressed up in a tuxedo with a Kim Kardashian lookalike.  What are the chances?   We chatted, I told him why I was there (and about the recent break up), he told me he lived there as well, that  he thought the Kim Kardashian girl was boring, etc.  It was a pleasant break from being miserable.

I took off for a few days in NYC, texted Hunter a few times, and then found myself stuck at LaGuardia airport with my best friend and nothing to do but drink.  And we start drinking together, it goes downhill pretty fast.  About two hours into our delay, before all the men at the bar were sufficiently bored with us, the airport cops had K’s email address, one boarding pass had been misplaced, and my neck pillow just wasn’t doing its job of holding up my head, we decided to call Hunter.   I’ve been taking my daily inspirations ( very seriously, and Mastin Kipp had just told me that I feel it, then I should show my love.  And I felt like calling Hunter.

We told him our status (stranded) and he laughed at us.  So giggly.  So jolly.  He thought we were great.  I asked him if he would come pick us up from O’Hare at midnight, as a joke.  He said yes, because he wasn’t going out that night.  A serious yes.  We giggled a little bit more and then I told him that I loved him.   No, I didn’t do that.

So, there we were.  Stuck at LaGuardia with one ride home from O’Hare from a guy I had met online and seen twice and spent less than 140 characters talking to in person.   My father must spend 30% of his life praying for me.

We bought Hunter a mini-mug that says I ❤ NY, and a “H” shaped keychain (bedazzled with the statue of liberty on it) as thank you presents and then got on the plane.

A picture that Hunter later texted me of the gifts

Upon arrival, we jumped into Hunter’s car, listened to some club music and then dropped Katie off.  Hunter and I went out for the remainder of the evening, and although he doesn’t get my jokes yet, he was jolly and giggly enough to keep me entertained.

He dropped me and my suitcase off in the middle of the night and that’s when I asked him if he wanted to come in.  Not come up, but come in to meet my doorman.  Who I pretend is my father when I am drinking.   I introduced Hunter and Schwayze and asked Schwayze if he had any questions for Hunter.   He had a few thoughts on Hunter, and then Hunter asked Schwayze if he thought we looked good together.  It’s okay that Hunter stole my favorite line (which I already had said to minimum 15 people at the bar that night) because he had finally tried out a joke.  His delivery was off, but his giggles made up for it.

And his giggles made Schwayze giggle, which made me giggle because any guy that keeps my dad happy is OK in my book.

Schwayze, on a different night when we played dress up in the lobby...


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