A Story. In Parts. (IV) in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

(Part 4 in a continuing series)

Okay. Here’s where it gets interesting.

Hot Neighbor Dad (HoNeDa? Oh hell, let’s just call him “Anthony”) and I started doing this kind of funny thing where I’d go over to his place and we’d watch some TV shows that are relevant to both of our businesses (I do certain types of research, and he works for a TV network). Of course, that was the excuse we were both using, but it was working.

I liked going to his place because it’s full of his artwork and he has allllll kinds of great music to listen to and I haven’t been into having people over to my place (again, it’s time to remedy that).

Anyway, I’d bring some wine and he’d order Chinese or whatever. Or sometimes I’d bring dinner…stuff like that. We’d watch our shows, talk a little, listen to music, and then say goodbye. He’d walk me down the hall to the elevator and then it was goodnight. We did this five or six times over the course of maybe a month or so.

There was one time where it got slightly steamy because we’d both gotten tipsy, and we had some kissy-face time. It was nice, but kind of awkward. And the next few times we saw each other were almost business-like. No kiss, just kind of pat-on-the-back hugs. Hmmm. I thought, okay, we’re both going through some real shit here lately…neither one of us is ready for anything more than a kiss and a hug.

Plus, we’d see each other so sporadically. He’s in the process of figuring out his new life: shuffling the kids back and forth with his soon-to-be ex, lawyers and hearings, going to see his sick dad in the hospital…just so much going on with him. And me? Well, at the time I was getting emailed and prodded from EXMS about getting back together. Strange timing for both of us, and we both knew it.

Then one day, Anthony sent a text about going out of town on Saturday, so I asked him if he was free on Friday night to go with me to a photography exhibit. He said yes. I was thrilled.

Photo exhibit…wine. Dinner…more wine (he drank tequila—what?). Anthony’s place…a little more wine. It got late, and he put on a movie. I was sitting in a big chair under a blanket and he changed clothes (t-shirt and shorts) and went over to his easel to paint a little while I watched the movie and let my eyes shut for a bit.

But soon, he left his place at the easel and walked over to me and kind of straddled me in the chair and just started kissing me. Deeply. And I woke up right away and thought to myself, well, isn’t this nice!

But it quickly went from isn’t this nice to isn’t this INTERESTING when Anthony pulled himself up and grabbed his t-shirt and started tearing it off his body like The Incredible Hulk or something! He took that shirt and rrrrrrriiiiippppppp! I mean, he went from sweet kisser to crazy STRIPPER in a matter of seconds!

And seriously, I looked at him and my brain juices went crazy because, well, WOAH! Dude is even HOTTER sans shirt. He obviously works on his physique quite regularly. But um…huh?

And then…

And THEN!

He went for his shorts!

Now. I know some of you are thinking, so what? Two people getting out of relationships, attracted to each other…why shouldn’t they just throw caution to the wind and get it on??!

And to be perfectly honest, there was a split second where I thought the same thing. But the bizarreness kicked in and alarms were going off like sirens blaring and flags waving and people screaming and babies crying and…

He did it. He basically stripped and told me to look.

And that freaked me out.

It turned into a stand-off. A bizarre naked stand-off. I refused to look at his package (though I could see it was spectacular in my peripherals). And he was drunkenly babbling something about not wanting to “lose” me. And I had no idea what to do at that point because it had just gotten so peculiar up in there.

So I told him I was going to leave. And he told me to go ahead. And I slowly backed myself out of his loft.