Finish What You Start
As children our parents would put a plate of food in front of us and tell us something along the lines of, “You are not to leave the table until your plate is cleared.” When we were children we thought we were being punished for having to clear our plates but as adults; I’ve now come to realize they were instilling a valuable lesson. They were teaching us the lessons of finishing what we start. Often times we begin a project, a book, a task and we let certain things come in our way from completing them. Things like, frustration, procrastination, doubt and fear. All of these things that we allow to creep in and prevent us from doing the things we need or want to finish. Which makes me wonder…Do we ever finish what we start?
The beginning of my week certainly started out on the right foot…or so I thought. On Tuesday, I was to meet the second guy from this dating app that my friend convinced me to join a few weeks ago. I had been messaging with this guy for at least a week or so now and it was time for us to finally meet. He had scheduled and rescheduled a few times due to his job and when he finally suggested we meet after work, I was ready to go! All I knew about the man was that he was 44 years old, lives on the Upper East Side and works in the restaurant industry. The plan was to meet at Gym Bar at 6pm. That didn’t give me much time from when work ended to freshen up and meet him in Chelsea. Yet, somehow and someway; I managed to get there only a little after six.
I couldn’t find him when I first walked in the bar, which was odd because the man was 6’4. I decided to sit at the bar and text him that I was the guy in the plaid shirt with the Bud Light. Two seconds after I sent the message, I felt a tap on my shoulder, turn around and it was him. I was instantly attracted to him and I could tell that the feeling was mutual. He sat down next to me and also had a Bug Light but was also carrying a tumbler glass with some dark liquor in it. I asked, “What is that you are drinking there?” He responded with, “Oh, it’s Jäger.” I admit. I was judging him a little bit for being 44 years old and drinking Jäger shots. However, I am in no position to judge another human being, maybe he can hold down that type of booze; but I certainly couldn’t. So, the date began and it carried on with the usual first date questions. Things were going along smoothly, except, when he finished his Jäger shot, he ordered another one along with another Bud Light.
I asked him,” When did you get to the bar?” He responded, “I got here around 5:30 and decided to get the party started.” This led me to now ask him, “So, how many Jäger shots have you done already??” I was expecting him to say that it was only his second one but he said, “I’ve done two, this is my third, however, I am a big guy. I can handle it.” I decided to drop the subject and move onto other questions. If he could handle the shots and carry on a conversation then let the games begin.
As the date continued on, I noticed he was starting to slur his words and he wanted to move the conversation from the usual topics of, “Where are you from, etc.” to topics about sex. He went on and on about how he has never had any complaints about the sex he’s had, how he is perfectly content with being a bartender and how his place is only a cab ride away. I should also point out that he took two cigarette breaks during the forty minutes that we were into the date. I played and laughed along and held onto my one and only beer as his face went glossed over. Finally, after not two, not four but SIX shots of Jäger later, my date excused himself again to go outside for a cigarette. I told him that it was fine to go and smoke and that I would stay right at the bar. When ten minutes turned into twenty and I realized that my date hadn’t returned yet, I got up to look outside where all the other smokers were. He was gone. He had left me at the bar. Yes. It was rude to just up and leave me there but I was also worried about him even getting home since the man could barely stand up at the end. I asked the bartender if I should be worried, since earlier in the night they seemed to have known each other. The bartender’s only response to me was, “He’s in here all the time and does this kind of thing all the time.” Well, there you have it. This date certainly started the party without me and finished it as well. I went home and thought of texting him just to make sure he was ok but after his rude exit; he didn’t deserve that nice of a treatment.
The next morning, to my surprise he sent me a message that said, “Hey! Good morning. Last night was fun. We should do it again.” I chose not to respond because the night wasn’t fun at all and I think I am past my Jäger shots period in life.
I was more than ready to get the weekend started and it was going to be starting off with a very nice party. A friend of ours was throwing his 40th birthday party at his gorgeous apartment in Chelsea. The man is always dressed impeccably, he can bake like no other and everything about him and his presentation skills are just breath taking. So, when I arrived at his apartment and turned the door, I was, once again, in awe of what he had accomplished. There was a DJ spinning amazing music, gorgeous waiters serving an endless supply of champagne, a professional sushi chef, cakes, pies and floral arrangements that took two days to create. When you went into his bathroom he filled his tub up with flowers and on top of the flowers was a floating zebra along with gold Mylar balloons everywhere. Yes. It was one of those kinds of parties that you will never forget. As the champagne continued to flow and the music kept on playing, I knew that it was not going to be an early night. My friends and I decided after the party to walk to another bar but I had no concept of time and somehow we ended up in Murray Hill at some pub where I could barely get my beer down. We all said goodbye and I “think” I took the subway home.
The next morning, thankfully, I had already set my alarm clock because I had to meet some friends of mine at Penn Station to take the Amtrak to upstate New York. I was only going for one night but I knew that it would be a fun one. The entire train ride, all of us were hurting from the night before. I ended up sitting next to this older man who wanted to talk to me about him coming all the way from Pennsylvania to Kingston in order to play the cello with a total stranger. All I wanted to do was to pass out and drink as much water as possible. I would have no such luck.
By the time we got to the station, we all were starting to feel better. We were joined by two more friends and we ended up walking through this quaint town called, Hudson. As we all walked around, went into one antique store to the next, I noticed all of these couples around us. It was certainly a town that catered to gay couples and their money. No one was dressed “down” and everyone was handsome. By the time we reached our fourth antique store, I started to think if I could even be one of those couples that walk down Main Street, holding hands, drinking hot chocolate and finding that perfect planter to go on the front porch. It was something to think about, and fun to envision but it was certainly something I wasn’t ready to start yet alone finish.
After a couple of hours in town, it was time to head back to the house and begin preparing a dinner for a total of eleven guests. I was on dish duty while the others made special cocktails, chopped, blended, seared and all those other cooking terms that I consider to be “fancy.” The first guests arrived at eight and from there the guests continued to flow in. The meal was amazing, the wine was delicious and I was having a wonderful time laughing my ass off. We played games but the party was over for me by 1 a.m. Not getting enough rest from the night before, all of us were exhausted.
Yesterday, before heading back to the city, we stopped at another friend’s country house in the next town over. As the handsome couple gave us all the grand tour of their home, I couldn’t help but think of them, their home and what they are building together. When you have a home that you build together, there are a million projects that you start and must finish in order to achieve your ultimate dream home. I guess the same goes for your own personal dreams as well. As I left their home, I told myself that while I’m not ready yet for that country house with free range chickens that I am ready to start with getting to know someone and seeing where the future takes me/us.
Everything we do starts with something. The flower cannot bloom unless it starts with a seed first. For some, the day cannot begin unless they have that cup of coffee first. Whether it’s Mother Nature or Human Nature, no matter what we do or experience in life, everything has a beginning and an ending. So, maybe when we begin projects at work or even relationships, if we are the ones that start them then it is only fair and responsible of us to…finish what we start.
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