2002-02-08 | 7:00 p.m.

corduroy licorice thought half a loaf was better than none, so he'd sneak a 15-minute catnap whenever he didn't have time to pull off his usual half-hour siesta.

***

so, yeah. apparently alcohol is a depressant. hi!

last night was my "date" with CD guy. as i mentioned before, i've learned through the last couple of years of run-ins with him that he and i aren't couple-bound. however, i do enjoy his friendship and have taken great pleasure in our little biannual face-sucking tete-a-tetes. last night, in my mind, was to be no different. i knew the routine. we would meet at a restaurant for dinner, both of us arriving late. good food and conversation to follow, the latter rife with good-natured put-downs. drinks to follow. i, a lightweight, always have one too many and he has to babysit with ice water until i debuzz. we then conclude our evening with a friendly makeout session, an exchange of the CDs we're loaning each other, and then a kiss goodbye.

let me just preface the rest of this entry with the statement that I WAS SO FREAKIN' DAGNABBIT EXCITED at the prospect of making out with an attractive bloke. it has been some months since the one-and-only makeout session with odb, so this missy was getting a bit pissy.

cut to last night. we meet at the restaurant, both of us late. we hug, he gives me a nice peck on the cheek, we get a drink and then a table.

CD guy is really fun to talk to for a couple of reasons. first of all, he's really funny. second of all, he's a really good listener. i took special note of his off-the-hook listening skillz last night. for you see, the last two dudes i've dated were blessed, and at times cursed, with the gift of gab. my conversations with them were more like monologues in which i played the ed mcmahon role to their johnny carson...issuing an occasional utterance of understanding, amusement or empathy as they spun their long-winded tales. as quiet as i am, i like a little more give-and-take in the conversating department is all. also, during our talk last night, CD guy mentioned a few things i'd told him many moons ago...refreshingly demonstrating that he'd been playing along at home. extra bonus points for that ish.

as per usual, our conversation turned to the topic of "so how is it going with that whole attracting the opposite sex thing"? i hogged the spotlight a bit more, regaling him with my odb travails. he listened attentively, inserting various apropos bon mots. then his turn came.

"well, where do i begin," he began. "well, so remember when i was traveling for work? so this female friend of mine was traveling, too, and we met up and were hanging out at a strip club..."

holy mother of all that is linoleum, i thought to myself. don't tell me he dated a stripper like odb did, too! oh, the tassled titty humanity!

but no, it turns out that that was just a colorful anecdote. the story is that over the last few months he and his gal pal found themselves falling in like. a few meaningful glances later...and poof! they are an item. i listened to his cupidic success with a bit of envy and jealousy needle-tweaking my pancreatic region, but smiled for him because i do want the fellow to be happy.

a bit of backstory might help explain what is to come. a few years ago, i asked CD guy out and he turned me down quite gently. we were coworkers and he said that he didn't date people he worked with. i wondered if that was an excuse, but took it at face value. anyway, since then he and i have overcome the awkwardness of that high schoolish embarassment to form a cool friendship...with some hiccups. you see, he is a master of mixed messages and has pointlessly reignited my crush on and off over time. this unendearing quality has gotten him on many of my girlfriends' shit lists, so they are never thrilled to hear i'm hanging out with him.

anyway, back to the him not dating coworkers excuse. thing is, he has now dated two girls at his work...the current love interest being one of them...proving that his turndown to me way back then was an excuse to protect my feelings. but now he's found a girl he does like. a girl who i kinda know. a girl who is cute and seems nice, if a little icy on first approach. (meow!) but, most importantly, a girl who isn't me! actually, if he had told me that he was dating some random starbucks counter girl, i'm sure my reaction would have been MUCH milder. this hit a bit too close to home.

still, i'm taking it all in stride...mostly miffed that i'm not gonna get to mack on him when the evening draws to an end.

so then we went for drinks and had a good time. shortly after, we were joined by a buddy of his. it was a fun night to be sure, but then the other shoe dropped. fortunately, this part of the story takes place off-stage.

i arrived home around 2 a.m. i was a bit bleery-eyed and coming off my buzz. suddenly, and without warning, and with no foreshadowing (ok, there was a bit of foreshadowing), i descended into a crying jag the likes of which i haven't performed since i reached mariah carey stress critical mass at work last fall.

illustrated here, my children, is a listing of only some of the great dangers of alcohol: the exaggeration of emotions; the muddying of common sense; the illusion of perfection in the rejector.

my sob-accompanied internal dialogue went a little something like this...

"oh my gawdddddd...he is the most perfect guy ever...oh my gawd. why didn't he like meeeeeee? why did he pick heeeeeeeeeer? he is so handsome and sweet and caaaaaaring...he remembered all this stuff i told him...he really listened to my stoooooories and laughed at my joooookes. whhhhyeeeee can't he seeeeeeee what he's missing in dating meeeeeeee?!!!!!"

don't worry. i got bettah. something about vomiting the morning after a martini-fueled breakdown cleanses more than the digestive system. as the effects of my hangover dwindled throughout the day, especially after a greasy burger and tylenol were administered come lunchtime, i regained my emotional composure. i realized once more that for whatever reason, CD guy and i aren't meant to be-bop. the good news is that i have a very cool friend who i enjoy and admire. coming to that conclusion brought a wet spot to my tear duct and i scribed him an e-mail thanking him for the fun night we'd had. then i played the mushy card and wrote:

"maybe it's my hangover talking, but i'm really glad we're friends."

he wrote back a very patrick-swayze-in-ghost reply:

"ditto. (i'm such a guy...)"

make that great guy.

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