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11:45pm 3.29.2012

Scene: a black car driving down Santa Monica Boulevard, West Hollywood

“You’re not sprung on me already are you?”

The question was not a question but a declaration of insanity.  Another red flag.  But would I listen?

Of course not.

I just laughed.

“Why would you even think that this early into things?”

It had only been a week if that.  A few dates.  Was this the second or the third?  The real question that peered at me was “Why do men always get to this state so fast with me?”

“I just want to make sure.  I want you to be honest with me.  I don’t want you to get attached really fast and not let me know.  I don’t want to hurt anyone again.”

…Again. Geezus.  This is about his latest ex.  I heard the story on date two.  Things with him had been intense from practically the beginning.  It was wonderful but yet there would be these moments scattered throughout the entirety.

“I’m having a good time with you but I’m sorry to bruise your ego, the answer is no.”

“Whew.”

There were a few seconds of silence as we continued to drive.  He calmed down.  Or at least I thought and hoped he did.

We were headed to a liquor store before going back to his place.

“Let’s get you some good whiskey.”

“I do enjoy a good drink.”

“I know.” he said as he grabbed my leg and pet me.

We all have our escapes and fears. Was this him projecting that perhaps there was already the potential of shared emotion residing under the surface?  The charm and invitation of escapes of both his time time with me and our time perhaps escaping the rest of the world was a bit dazzling.

Mutual vices and temporary escapes perhaps?

For now none of that mattered.  I enjoyed it.  He enjoyed it.  Why did there have to be anything more than that?

A quote from a book by Philip Slater would later explain the entire situation.

“It is not what happens abroad that generates hysteria, but rather what  appears to be happening within ourselves.”

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