You know when you meet someone you find attractive, you fantasize about what they’re like and make up scenarios in your head about what they would say, how they would act, perhaps take you in their arms and embrace you long and hard you would suffocate in the smell of them? Oh… you don’t? Oh yeah… that’s called imagination. Since the inception of social media, we don’t need an imagination anymore. Why make up fake personas, when you can certainly gather enough information to judge a book by it’s cover? I mean… that’s what I did when I discovered Captain America.
Imagine a tall, clean cut, fit (as in 6 pack abs mountain man fit), Matthew McConaughey demeanor and confidence, and eyes like the sea after a storm… Ok. I stole that last line from Princess Bride, but to be fair, I’ve always wanted to say it along with, “Oh my sweet Wesley!” But more so in the heat of passion, not pushing him down a long steep descent of a hill. Anyway… Can you see him in your mind’s eye? This beautiful manly specimen walked into my friend’s wedding and I was smitten. So was every other woman there, but they were all married or in relationships which meant they would flirt, even touch, but did not go past the inappropriate line. I take that back. Some of them went well past the inappropriate line in terms of flirting, but the old adage double standard came out to play that night and it was – at times ghastly.
We talked, I smiled, he laughed, we danced; it was as every wedding should be for a single woman: a fucking reminder as to how great being single can be! No worries, free spirited, belly flutters, first time flirting… It was obvious we both were into each other. And though I wanted to ravage his body with hot and heavy, sweaty, 25 different positions, 30 minute break for water and a joint type sex, I succumbed to ending the night with exchanging details, saying our goodbyes with smooches and giggles, and I at least, hoping he would call. He did made contact… five days later.
What did I do during those five days? This is what I did:
- Texted my BFF all the deets and got her opinion on everything.
- Through various sources at the wedding, I found out his full name, where he was from, and what he did for a living.
- I then Google him and verified I had exactly the right person.
- I then waited by the phone for days.
- I then checked my service on my phone to ensure I was receiving all my texts and calls.
- I then texted my BFF on what she thought about him contacting.
- I then ignored her advice to play it cool cause that’s probably exactly what he was doing.
- I stalked his Facebook account and riffled through his photos and friends.
- I found Captain America.
At first, going through his pictures was the typical: Oh… his ex is really pretty, but I’m prettier. Damn. He’s hot! Oh… He must make good money. Awe… He has a dog. And then I found the “Captain America” photo. There he was in all his loveliness, dressed in costume. I was mesmorized. I’m not sure why. Ok. Ok. I know why. I had a brief obsession with Chris Evans and men who role play. I’m not going to go into detail. Don’t judge. I felt an instantaneous psychological need for this man to be in my life. Yes. It’s called crazy. A crazy need for this man to be in my life. Like how Samantha was obsessed with Jake in Sixteen Candles when she knew fuck all about who he was and would watch his girlfriend take a shower wishing she could be her. Yes. At that level of crazy.
And then he texted me. He texted five days after the wedding to tell me he would be gone for two weeks on a work trip overseas and that he would call me when he got back and that we would get together for drinks and dinner. Actually that’s what I made of his text. This is what his text read:
“Hi how are you? I will be out of town for two weeks for work. I’ll hit you up when I get back. This is Fred from wedding.”
From that text, I worked out that someone would only be gone for two weeks on a work trip and not think to carry on a conversation with someone they’re interested in because they must be going overseas. And we going on a date when he gets back. Easy peasy.
to be continued…