Hammer-philia

Let me preface this by saying that I am in the middle seat of an airplane right now. Seeing as how I’m mildly afraid that the people next to me will read this, I’m forced to bend my computer screen down, potentially risking mistakes. But that’s nothing new, right? Anyway, onto the story….

Now that most of you know how I feet about Mohawk, I think you should know what changed with Sing-Man to allow my heart to open to Mohawk in the sudden and unusual way that it did. On Tuesday night, Sing-Man (of course, and as expected) asked me on a date. If you’ll recall, I had been out with him both of the previous Tuesdays, and it would seem that Tuesday (in his mind, at least) was “our” night. Admittedly, Tuesdays’ are freer for me that the rest of the weekdays this semester. Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have ballet class. On Mondays, after class, I go to Hyde’s to watch 24. Tuesday I have my French history course, and often I have a luncheon too, so after a day full of reading, and 4 hours of listening to lectures, I am ready for a drink, to say the least. My other class is on Thursday, which is also a non-ballet night, and would make sense to be a “date night” too.

In any event, Sing-Man had called to ask me for Tuesday. I said “I’m busy.” (That night I really just stayed home and hung out with Artsy who was painting my place, but I was busy…) I told him that I was busy during the week for the entire week, and could he please do the weekend? He wrote me a text asking “So whats the deal new beau or are you really busy”
He hit my guilt chimes (not hard to do) and so I phoned him and left a voicemail.

I got a phonecall back saying “how about Sunday night?” (What an offer! The worst fucking day of the week, and Sing-Man wants me to go on a date with him!) In anys case, Sunday’s today, and I am clearly on a plane to be in Arizona in time for my mom’s birthday and Passover. I called him back with the following message: “I’m leaving town on Sunday but I am free Friday or Saturday.” He called me back saying that Friday was a “maybe” and he would let me know. “Friday I go to my synagogue,” he said. “But perhaps I can work something out. I’ll let you know.” He called back again and left another message a few minutes later: “I’m sorry, Hammer, but I can’t do Friday night. It’s really a shame, because I’d love to see you.”

It was time for action! So I sent the following text:
“I was looking forward to getting to know you better. I’m disappointed that you can’t see me on the weekends ☹”

He responded with a terse “well we have to plan our schedules”

What the fuck!?

I decided to ignore, and not respond, without further ado. So I didn’t call back and then I got a message from him, in which he used a consdescinding “make-nice” voice. “Hey, Hamm, give me a call back when you get a chance.” Well I couldn’t really call him for many more hours because I had tons to do, including meet Doll-Face at PPP’s talk and drunkly prepare some tasks for ProfSex till late late late in the night! (And we all know that Sing-Man turns off his phone early!)

So, whatever, the next morning, I texted him: “Got your message. I’m busy now but I’ll call you later. I’m free tonight.” And then he (very presumptuously) wrote back “great can’t wait to see you what time”

And so I played along: “9ish.”

OK, so I was having a date with Sing-Man. As Hyde knows, I was feeling aggressive that night anyway. So I had a looong day: read for 2 hours in the early a.m., then head to work for two hours in the early afternoon, lunch date with a new colleague and drop off a résumé, rush to an interview for a teaching position, then head to class with ProfSex, then go to a gallery opening for my friend Doughy whose photography is really beginning to succeed! (Hey! My life really is pretty exciting, isn’t it?) Here's an example of Doughy's work. He likes to do slow-exposure photos when a big screen or light is present and then let people do what they would ordinarily do.

This photo is of my good friend Birdman, Doughy's boyfriend, brushing his teeth in Japan.

Anyway, if I had any energy after aaaaaaalllll of that, then I would talk to Sing-man about having dinner. After the gallery opening party, Maximus and his friends thought it would be fun to grab drinks up at the Bentley hotel, a skyscraper very out of the way on the far East Side of Manhattan. We went up there and the view was, well, skyscrapers in every direction. (Maybe Hyde and I will bring you there, Mr. Flash!)

Anyways, at about 8:45, I called Sing-Man. Early! He said, “I need about 30 minutes but then I’ll be ready.” I told him I was uptown; he asked me to figure out what I wanted to eat. I picked a place called Tao which is also uptown, which my brother told me to try. Sing-Man was hardly game: “need a res” he wrote. Very Old-Man-ish of him, I thought. In the meantime, Maximus’s sometimes fling, the East-Sider came to the bar. She had hugggge boobs and was wearing high-heeled boots and a lot of perfume. If this girl didn’t know an expensive restaurant where I could exploit Sing-Man’s credit card, then no one did. (Disclaimer: this is not usually my motive, but I was feeling salty, salty, salty about Sing-man that night.... )

I said, “I’m in the mood for something Asian.” The East-Sider said, “Go to Tao!” Clearly it was the best choice! Well, Sing-Man just wasn’t going for it. He called back and said in a grinding mad voice that hinted of (dare I say it?) the Wizard…. “I’m becoming frustrated. I don’t know where we’re going. Let’s just make a plan.”

I said, “I’m happy to meet you downtown.” He appointed a place in his neighborhood (there are only like 9 million restaurants in Manhattan!) and it wasn’t even an Asian one, as I had had in mind. In any event, the East-Sider approved of the restaurant choice, so it had to be at least a little chi-chi.

I jumped in a cab, where I called Hyde to strategize. We agreed that the best thing to do would be to be nice at first, so he would remember why he liked me. Then, after he imbibed exactly two drinks, I would broach the subject of "Why is Hammer Tuesday girl?"

I arrived to the place, and there was good ‘ol sing-man, furiously sipping a bowl of soup at the bar! Worse yet, it smelled of shellfish, the one item of food which I do not eat (and he knows it). “I had to start eating,” he said. “My blood sugar was getting low.”

(I know about feeling hungry, as does everyone. But the thing is, you can always have an apple at home, or a slice of bread, or a piece of cheese. You needn’t be so rude to your date!)

“would you like some?” he asked. (GRRRRRR! He knows I don’t eat shellfish!) “no thanks,” I said. He then hustled the waitstaff to bring our items (my drink, his soup, etc) to a table where we might sit down. He said, "Oh, I forgot. Why don't you eat it? Would you try the mussells if I offered them to you? This place is known for its mussells!" (It is very annoying to discuss dietary restrictions, and I found this particular question quite offensive. I thought, "No, Mr. SIng-Man, you won't change me!" UGH!!!!)

So, we sat. At some point, I kind of asked him why he would go out with me tonight if he was in such a rush to get out of there and to eat and to attend his hearing the next morning. He replied, "Because you were already pissed-off at me; I couldn't afford to have you be more pissed off..."

"I wasn't pissed..." I trailed off.

Anyway, we continued on to have a confrontational discussion. I started it by asking, "So why can't you see me on the weekends, anyway?"

He said, "I go to synagoguge, I see a lot of shows, I date a lot..."

He told me that he's seeing two other women. He said that I'm something new he wants to pursue more of. He wants to get to know me better. I explained that I also want to get to know him better, but I can't just do that once a week. (If you recall, Hyde and I met him while he was with a woman: Rabbit Nose!) He said that since his divorce, he is not interested in slipping back into "relationship mode," even though that is what is natural for him to do. In other words, he's acting counter-intuitively, so that he doesn't end up (his words) "going to the country-house every weekend with his wife or girlfriend."

I explained my perspective: "I was eager to get to know you better, and excited. But seeing you once a week just doesn't feel like enough to get to know you."

The conversation continued, but it felt more like a volley of ping-pong for power than a serious discussion where each sentence actually meant something. (We *don't* really know each other, and stuff). Let me give an example: He said "Well, I'm sorry I can't give you what you're looking for." I said, "I"m not looking for exclusivity or a relationship but I would like to see you more because I was excited about you." (and so forth....)

He said: "You are breaking up with me."

I said: "Not necessarily."

At one point, the mutual animosity decreased when he grabbed my hands from across the table. OK....

He told me that I was "all about sex" and that I like to go out till 4 am every night and he never knows who I'm going to meet.

But anyway. After he paid for dinner, we started along our way. My house was about 14 blocks away, just long enough for a nice stroll on a romantic evening. Sing-man couldn't do it! He wanted to get in a cab. I figured out that the rush through dinner and the rush to the walk was all about getting me home to fuck me so that he could get enough sleep before his meeting the next day. I'm all for work and for dating and all that, but I hate the pinch of a schedule! I don't like doing dating on a shoestring of time. (And that's exactly the point: I know he's a lawyer, but two other girls are taking his weekend time, and I'm doomed to get him laid once during the week, end of story! Translation: I'm a cheap weekday whore!)

We got home and I showed him my rooftop. He said "We should make love up here.'" (Where the hell did that come from? We weren't exactly having the most tender evening together...)
Then we got to my room. He started with his oral-sexing that he's obsessed with, and one thing led to another. I want to say that some parts of that escapade were indeed pleasureful, but now those events are overshadowed by Mohawk. In spite of the fun, I still found myself feeling a little, i dunno...gross after he left. I was laying on my bed, and talking to Hyde on the phone. Suddenly I noticed a spot on the bed! What was it!? IT WAS A CIRCULAR BAND-AID! I couldn't believe that. Just the sight of it on my sheets set off a whole series of emotions. Old man... nebbish.... mole removal... who knows what!!!??? I just realized that I didn't know or care about this aging neurotic who thought he was Mr. Cool because of his 3 girlfriends! I had to shower extra long the next day to wash him away.

I think that this discussion proved to me that I don't like the guy so much. I was waiting and waiting sooooo impatiently to get to know him better, and finally i'm starting to. But the whole thing is so anti-climactic. I mean, how romantic would it have been if we had just been able to spend time together again and again once we discovered that we were attracted to each other?

The Band-Aid was a symbol. Even though I may have been begging for his attention, the Band-Aid, a circular cyclops, stared up at me menacingly, warning me that Sing-Man really wasn't much more than he seemed. The Band-Aid was a reminder of other thiings medical around Sing-Man: The back brace, the Prozac, the perpetual anti-biotics, the dog diapers on his floor, the possibility of hair plugs..... Did I really need to date this aging hypochondriac who thought he was George Cloony?

We'll see what happens. But the latest update is that Sing-Man called me yesterday noontime as I was preparing my bags to leave. He had all sorts of random suggestions for what i need to do with my apartment. He was giving me decorating advice. "You need blond-wooden slat blinds." (That's just so old man-ish of him to say). And what about your walls? You should have your photo-friend give you a piece of his work. UGH! The annoying thing was that I hadn't heard from Sing-y since he left my house and left Mr. Band-Aid in my bed Thursday night. Now he was calling on Sunday, just to spout advice at me on this or that?? I don't get it. I really just asked "How are you?" Because since he had been out on a few dates since our last meeting, it was hard to ask, "how was your weekend?"

At one point, I said, "I need to take a shower and get out of my running clothes." (I almost forgot to tell you: yeterday morning I woke up at 7:30a.m. to do another 4-mile race in Central Park. It was for lung cancer and there were 7,000 people there. What a rush! The run was good and I think that last time I ran, I was able to push the "Reset" button a bit, and move on from Wizard to Sing-Man. Now I'm pushing it again, to move away from Sing-Man.)

He said, "I'll be right over."

I said, "Huh?"

he joked, "Oh, I thought you were inviting me over to shower with you!"

I said, "I'm leaving town and you've probably already done that today."

He said, "Yeah, probably..."

Guys, I just don't think that Sing-Man is worth competing for. I know that he is starting to like me more. I get the sense that he liked seeing "Hammer's tough side" but I personally don't think that he's worth fighting for.....

And you???