Range Rover, Range Rover, Send Alex On Over
Last week I wrote about expectations. How by possibly lowering what I am expecting from myself and others that the chance of becoming disappointed by the end results can change my entire outlook on life.
Turns out this new way of thinking hasn’t helped entirely. I also mentioned in last week’s entry that I took a leap of faith and asked a guy out on a date. Everything was going according to plan. We emailed a bit, and then the text messaging started and much to my surprise…he actually called me last Wednesday just to say “hi” and to wish me a good day. I took all of his actions as my move to ask him out on Friday night to see a movie and drinks afterwards; to which I got an enthusiastic, “Yes. Sounds like fun!” So I looked up the movie times and sent it to him the next day. And the response I received was silence. He disappeared. Another guy pulling the old “Houdini” move on me.
I even re-read my email to him to think if maybe I had said something too forward but how can you be forward or scare someone off when all the email consisted of suggested movie times and theatres. I didn’t follow-up until Friday when I sent him a text message asking if he was ok and again I was greeted with the cold hard silence. To this day I have not heard one word from him and judging by his actions; it is safe to say I am done with this particular man.
Luckily, I had a very full weekend planned with friends and I wouldn’t be forced to hunt this guy down and kick him in his safe deposit box. I still managed to see a movie with a friend on Friday night followed by a few bars we frequent in the East Village one that ended with doing shots of tequila at Boiler Room. The next day after getting my taxes done and the gym, I forced myself to take a nap for that night I would be going out dancing and I have not done that in a long time; especially in an actual club. We decided to pre-game at the bar, Industry, and get a good base going before we would go the land of the cover charges and the $18 dollar drinks.
In the cab on the way to the club, XL, we were all thinking about the last time we actually danced at an actual club in New York City; suffice to say it was the Roxy days and that was in 2007. So we were long overdue for a night of shaking our moneymakers in this great city. As we got out of the cab and saw the long line we immediately did what we know best and that was skip the line by seeing if we knew the doorman…turns out we did and no waiting in the freezing cold for us. Once inside the music was pumping, the line to check the coat was long and the line for the bathroom even longer. There was no turning back now, we were there to dance and dancing is exactly what we did till about 3:30 in the morning. It was just what we all needed, we danced our past week away and I didn’t care what I looked like or who was looking. That night wasn’t about finding a man but sharing the experience with my friends.
The next day I woke up only slightly hung-over but was probably more tired than I was feeling ill. As I walked outside to meet some friends I began to revert back to thinking of the expectations theory and it began to get me all worked up again. How can someone agree to meet someone for a date and than disappear without any explanation? It couldn’t have been anything I said or did for I did nothing to render him to vanish. I would like to be given the opportunity and satisfaction to tell this guy off. I know it will never happen but it reminded me of the time that I was actually able to give someone a piece of my mind.
Back in 2000, I was living in Chelsea with my friend, Feathers. It was a one-bedroom apartment and in that one bedroom apartment lived Feathers, two more of my friends and myself. The living situation was made for a zany comedy show, we all slept on bunk beds, we lived in Chelsea and ironically enough, we all lost our jobs at the same time. Luckily for us, the rent was cheap and split four ways. Never one to sit still and wait for things to happen; I was hitting the pavement hardcore in order to find a job. It was my first year also doing a full share on Fire Island, so of course a new wardrobe was needed and collecting unemployment and wanting to shop just was not in the budget.
It was the dead of summer and on this particular day it was extremely hot and humid. So walking around in a shirt, tie and all the while trying to convince someone to hire the sweaty mess that I was. I went to this employment agency in midtown all psyched to meet with someone for a potential job. As I entered the office with the rows of desks and the phones ringing, I just knew that this man was going to find me a job! I sat down, shook his hand and introduced myself. He told me to have a seat and as he looked at my resume he gave me a rather dirty look. I was puzzled as to why I was getting such a nasty response and so I asked if he had any questions on my resume. He told me that I was wasting his time. I was wasting his time because I did not attend college and without a college degree there was absolutely nothing he could do for me and that I shouldn’t even think of handing out my resume. As he proceeded to tell me how I was never going to get a job in this town and saying it in such a loud voice that everyone around us could hear, I began to get upset. It was there that I knew this was my opportunity to stand up for myself. I asked him if he went to college and he told me that in fact he did attend college. It was the answer that I had wanted him to say. I told him, “You mean to tell me that you went to college for four years to become someone that works at an employment office?” The person that was seated next to me began to laugh for I knew there was no way in hell that he went to school for this job and that he was at this job simply because that is what he could get with his crappy attitude. I asked for my resume back and snatched it out of his hand and walked toward the elevator. I felt like I was Erin Brockovich for standing up for myself but also like Erin Brockovich for she was also broke.
I couldn’t even afford to take the subway home and so I walked, which I usually love doing but again it was so disgusting outside. I got to my apartment and immediately got into the summer gear, which usually consists of tank top, shorts and flip-flops. I didn’t even want to be in the apartment once I got there so I proceeded to walk the streets to clear my head and figure out what my next plan of action would be. As I walked from Chelsea and through the West Village I began to cry. I was that person that you sometimes see walking the streets crying and you tend to think if you should offer some assistance or even a friendly ear to listen to their problems. But alas, I just walked and cried. I cried out of frustration because I just wanted a job and to feel good about myself. I got to the corner of Perry Street and Seventh Avenue South and as I was waiting for the light to change, a Range Rover pulled up next to me. In the truck was a rather handsome man with his wrap around sunglasses, backwards baseball cap and tank top. He rolled his window down and asked if I was ok. I told him that I was fine and thanked him for asking.
The light changed for me to walk and he proceeded to drive next to me and asked me if I wanted to get in his truck and chat. This is the moment that anyone reading this can call me a dumbass. However, I was extremely vulnerable and not in the right state of mind and so I got in. I purposely did not put on my seatbelt just in case he did decide to kidnap me; I would just quickly open the door and throw myself out onto the street. Much to my surprise… he was really kind. He asked me why I was crying and I told him the story of the evil man that belittled me. He told me a bit about himself, he explained that he just wanted to get out of his house and drive around the city for a while. Feathers called my cell to find out where I was and how the interview went. I explained to him where I was and he pretty much yelled at me to get out of the car but I told him I was fine and to relax. The Range Rover man asked what area in the city I lived in so I told him that I lived in Chelsea; he suggested that we go to the Starbucks on 19th and 8th Avenue for an iced coffee to cheer me up.
As he parked the car, he even was a gentleman and opened the car door for me. I noticed he was wearing these Adidas slippers with socks but that his right ankle looked a lot bigger than his left. I didn’t ask him if he had injured his ankle but just kept moving forward to Starbucks. Once inside, we stood in line and I was in front of him, he asked me to order him one of those iced Frappuccino drinks and I could order anything I wanted. The minute I placed the order there was this beeping noise that went off. This was when beepers were still around but was surely on their way out. But the beeping kept getting louder and louder; I turned around to ask him what on him was making that noise. Range Rover man had a look on his face of shear and utter panic. He told me that he was on house arrest and the beeping noise was his house arrest ankle bracelet. His parole officer had apparently tried calling him while we were driving around and he ignored it. He explained quickly that if he didn’t get back to Hoboken he was going back to jail. He fled the Starbucks and just as he sped off the barista called my order. I didn’t even have enough money to pay for the drinks and once I told them what had just happened to me they gave me the drinks for free. I gave the iced Frappuccino to an elderly lady that was standing in line behind me, took my drink and went home to explain to my friends what had just happened to me.
I am extremely lucky that nothing bad happened to me by getting into this strangers truck and had he not been on house arrest who knows what kind of story ours might have turned out to be but the point of my story is that while there still going to be people that disappear without any notice or people that try to belittle you because they actually are hating their own lives; there is still kind people out there that want to know you, offer a friendly ear to tell your troubles too and it is perfectly ok to have expectations. However, just don’t get in a strangers vehicle and always, always, always look at someone’s ankle because you never know if they happen to have an accessory around it that will cause them to need to flee the scene.
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