HE'S BACK- THE LABOR DAY PARTY, PART ONE

T was at Chloe's Labor Day barbecue on Saturday.  He wasn't there at first, and I was relaxed and having an adequate time--not dancing on the tables or anything.  We were there about an hour, and then I turned and there he was.  Suddenly, my whole body reacted.  I was shaking and found it hard to breathe.  A week of penance and self-loathing was down the drain.  The desire came back, full force.


He walked over to me and a few other people, and I noticed that he was tanned, rested, and unbelievably beautiful.  When we were in the presence of others, he explained that he was in Florida visiting his son.  Then when he caught a quick moment with me, he told me that I looked beautiful in the sundress, and that he could not keep his mind off what happened.  I would not admit to him that I felt the same way.  I wanted him to stop talking about it, said that it would never happen again, and begged him to get it out of his mind.  He said that it was impossible.  Don't I know it?


Roberta came over, and I was relieved at the start, because the uncomfortable conversation had to stop.  Then she started to flirt with him, rubbing his back in a sensual way, and I wanted her to go away.  She asked him to dance, and to my utter surprise (or disgust), he said yes.  I don't know if he did this to get to me.  Well...it worked.  I was pissed.  I told him as much when I confronted him by the beer keg, and he wondered what I expected him to do.  He reminded me that there was someone at the party that he wanted, and it was not Roberta.  Then Roberta returned like a cancer, and was back to her old tricks.


Suddenly, I felt dizzy.  I don't know if it was the previous conversation, the heat, or the fact that Roberta could not keep her slimy hands off of T.  I wanted to sit down, and searched for a chair.  I heard T ask if I was all right, I lost my balance and he kept me steady.   The wineglass that I was holding fell onto the tile, and shattered.  After that, it seemed that the whole world stopped.  Everyone was looking at me.


I wanted to fix it, somehow.  I bent down to try to pick up shards of glass, but T stopped me, saying that he would do it.  Chloe's husband, Donald was quick to come over with a dustpan and broom to help with the clean up, and everyone was asking me if I was okay.  Then P came over, and with all the sensitivity of a drill sergeant, he asked me what the hell happened--like I did it on purpose.


I told him that I wasn't feeling well, and wanted to go home.  P wouldn't hear of it, probably thinking that I was making it up (I've done that before).  He said that he did not want to leave because Derek was having a good time, and that I should sit down and relax, and "maybe I'll feel better".  I'm sure that I heard sarcasm in his voice.  Even Roberta seemed more concerned about me than my own husband.  Story of my life.  I was even willing to walk home so that P did not have to leave the party for two seconds to drop me off.  Then T said that he was leaving anyway, and that he would drop me off.


To be continued...

I MAY HAVE GONE A LITTLE OVERBOARD--TO SAY THE LEAST

I really should not drink. Really. My other blog told about my big night out with the girls, but it did not tell you everything. This is the rest of the story:

I was having a good time with the girls, it's true. But when I saw T walk in with his date, I could not keep my eyes off them. It took about an hour before the rest of the woman at my table noticed them, but I knew that he was there. Maybe I was jealous--I don't know.


Then the conversation was all about T, the neighborhood's "man whore". They talked about his dates, and the current one at his table. Then Roberta regaled us with a rumor that she had heard about him, and we it was decided that it explained everything about why he was so popular. I'm thinking on investing in a pair of binoculars, by the way. But, I know that I wouldn't have the nerve to use them, Roberta is right about that.


Fast forward about an hour. Roberta had teased me because I was drinking iced tea (among other things--she wouldn't leave me alone), so I decided to prove to her that I could have fun. Those young guys at the bar sent over the pitcher of shots, and I tried one. Then I tried another. Then another. I remember feeling a little woozy as I rose to walk towards the bathroom. On the way back, I stopped at T's table.




He immediately knew that I was drunk, as I introduced myself to his pick of the night. I think that I actually said "So, you're the latest pick of the night?" Classy, right? He has never seen me in that condition, so I think that he was in shock. I said some more things that I don't remember, and his date was ruined--I would like to hope that it wasn't intentional. I didn't like her--I know that for a fact. She kept giving me dirty looks. He deserves so much better than her. 


From that point on, I do not remember much, but I do know that he drove me home, and walked me to the door so that I didn't fall on my face. I remember thanking him and thinking that he was so damned handsome, and how I was so attracted to him. Then I somehow came to my senses. THANK GOD!


Fast forward to Monday at the home. While we waited for Frank to come back to the room, T told me that I hit on him several times on Saturday night--once making a comment about how big his hands and feet are (Chloe confirmed as much when I talked to her on the phone Sunday night. She said that I "wasn't myself" and should not drink shots anymore--Duh!) 


T teased me further by thanking me for a so-called "great night". He fooled me for a second, because I remember something that I said at my front door that may have been a little flirty. Eventually, I saw through his ruse. His date was waiting in the truck, and nothing happened. Then he mentioned something about the heart shaped birthmark on my tummy, and now I'm wondering if I was dancing on the table with my shirt off. How does he know about that birthmark? I've got to find that out, somehow.


Meanwhile, my head was pounding so much that it could have split a mountain in half. T convinced me that he could make it go away with reflexology. I was in no mood to argue with him, and I was in so much pain that I would have tried anything. I agreed to have him try, and it was working. I was relaxed, and comfortable, but soon I felt sensations in certain places. Shocked, I quickly pulled my foot back like an airplane retracting its landing gear. He laughed, and said that he didn't mean to do it. I blushed, because I am not so sure that it was unintentional. Why do I always trust this guy?


Maybe it was revenge for ruining his date? I don't know, but it does make me wonder.

THE NEIGHBOR FROM HELL

I've got the neighbor from Hell.

Okay, I guess that you've been waiting to see how my weekend went.   I have been beside myself.  I was hoping that it would get better, but it's not.  I just feel like I want to vent.

The "bachelor" has a playboy lifestyle...he always has someone different over there (not that I've been paying attention).  He invited us to a party at his house on Memorial Day weekend, with people and noise--young women everywhere.  I think that they were in their twenties.   I told Chloe that I felt like I was at the Playboy mansion.  She shook her head and told me to relax and not be so critical.  She was actually having fun at that party!  I told her that I think that he should grow up. I left early.  Came up with the migraine excuse, and then once I was home, I swallowed a row of Girl Scout Tagalongs.  The "Bachelor" is ruining my diet!

Philip tells me to mind my own business.  Give him a chance, he says.  I don't know what it is.  Maybe it's my mother's instinct, but I don't trust him.