Traveling for work has provided me with many opportunities to meet men of all shapes, styles, and liquor preferences. I hope to share many of my stories with you over the next few months and wanted to start with a personal favorite.
One evening I returned to the hotel from a run-sweaty and red faced- smelling of a gym bag. As I get onto the elevator with four of the most ruggedly handsome men I’ve ever seen, I divert my eyes hoping that they will not see, hear, or smell me. Fail. I catch the eye of “Bob” (of course I did not know his name at the time). I was hooked. I heard their conversation identifying a meeting time in the lobby for dinner… my stalker skills said to show up, but the lady in me knew better. Somehow we all ended up at the same restaurant (the fact that I knew their car and saw it in the parking lot was just coincidental), at the same bar, at the same time. For the next 2 hours I sip my wine, eat my dinner, and eye flirt with Bob from across the bar. Every time he gets up for the bathroom I just know he’s going to come by and say hello. He never does.
As the men pay their tab, Bob decides to head my way instead of to the door. At this point I’m waiting for a typical greeting, typical introduction, but nothing about Bob was typical. He leans over to whisper (yet loud enough for the others around me to hear) “What is your room number? I want to talk to you.” What’s a girl to say except “323”.
Over the next few days we are together, we watched lighting bugs, drank cheap wine, and discussed everything about life, but very little about him. He refused to share. All I learned was that he was an older ex-Navy seal with tattoos in locations that are only chosen to prove one can withstand pain. He was involved in a real fight club because he could only find his soul when his body was too physically weak to function on its own. He called me out on my “guarded BS” and forced me to really evaluate how I viewed myself as a woman, not a 20-something girl. He was intense, passionate, and truly unlike anyone I had ever met (up to that point...because I had yet to meet Agent O ;) . We shared a few amazing moments, yet he would never kiss me on the lips or do anything that required him to let down HIS barriers. I knew the day he left would be the last day I’d ever see or hear from him and I was okay with that. Sometimes things are only meant for a moment.
Lesson learned: Whether it’s a phone number or a room number, sometimes a girl has no choice but to give it out.
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