what she had meant to do…

As someone who has gotten on and subsequently off the merry-go-round of ‘your booty is the only one these hands will touch’, I’ve experienced countless reasons for ending what facebook pictures made look like a happy going steady scenario. They don’t always end because she decided it was in fact not mine at all but instead more like a redbox movie that should be shared. Sometimes it comes down to timing which means I should have met her when I was in a susceptible emotional state that made me more likely to settle. Or it can be a distance thing where her best qualities are lost along with my luggage on those frequent cross country treks.

But the most surprising and disappointing straw to break the boo’d up camel’s back has to be that of misguided intentions. For those not sure what I’m talking about, I’ll go to the old faithful sports analogy. It is similar to if you are watching your fantasy football running back break for a 60 yd run…with a chance to score…in the final 2 minutes of the 4th quarter…during monday night football…while you are down by 7pts…in your league’s championship game…and he decides to get his best desean jackson on…and fumble to the other team…that is able to kneel the game out. He had the best intentions of freeing his hands asap for the pending dance of jubilation but unfortunately the lack of actually scoring the touchdown make the celebratory gyration useless unless he’s hoping to moonlight as a dallas cowgirl (which I know isn’t much different that the current cowboys team).

Still not sure what the hell today’s written mumbling is about?

Well for the non-sport buffs, I have another example for your enjoyment from my slightly above average dating life. In this instance of onetrik’s chronicles, I found myself in the early feeling out process with a young lady that checked off the majority of my ‘she can get it’ list. Said another way…she was an attractive, intelligent, employed, sport-loving, Lakers-loving (as there are bonus points here), cooking, generous, funny, full set of teeth having woman. Quite possibly a catch.

Fast forward through roughly 3-5 weeks of pretty consistent kickage. I receive a call from her asking about my day. On this particular friday, I was doing what we in the biz call ‘working from home’. After sharing that along with my plans for not pant’ing the entire day, she politely but quite forwardly insisted that I go into the office. Outside of the obvious conflict with my pant-less plans, I didn’t want to do this because I was working from home. Also, last I checked she wasn’t my boss so I merely wrote it off as playful heckling of my flexible working parameters. She proceeded to send a few texts relaying the same conviction and request but my plans were set and no pants would be touched on that day damn it.

On the following Monday, I returned to my normal routine of going into the office and found that I received a package and it apparently required being kept in the refrigerator. I instantly became excited as I assumed it was that box of astronaut ice cream I ordered arriving early. But that excitement was changed to confusion when I opened the door. It was a basket from edible arrangements. Mind you there were no approaching holidays and I just celebrated my birthday two months prior so the cause for such a delivery left me with that 17th minute of Law & Order: SVU puzzled feeling. Upon reading the note, I then realize why I had received the pressure to go into the office the prior friday. A second realization also came over me…I’d be getting off of this merry-go-round at the next stop.

While her intentions were both thoughtful and appreciated, the action (similar to the fantasy rb fumble) made the intentions null and void. I couldn’t get over the fact that she had sent me (yes a grown man) a basket full of fruit (though the pineapples were delicious)…to my job (which at the time I wasn’t sure how she got the address but then recognized the power of today’s tools such as foursquare)…for no reason other than to be thoughtful and appreciative of our time spent together. As a non-committed pair of individuals not yet to our first ‘talk’, I did not expect the unexpected gift. Not only was a gift not expected, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t suppose to be of the citrus variety in a neatly wrapped basket. And to top it off, it was given in such a public domain as my place of work. Now had she decided to surprise me with my favorite meal at the crib after a long day of emails and conference calls, I would have given her the proper dappage. Or if she got me that watch I’ve been lusting over at Nordstroms, we may have been talking some type of social media recognition for her. Shoot if she offered to put something on the tab/bill at the end of the night, I may have teared up a bit with her kind gesture. Any of those would have accomplished the goal that she set out to do without the ramifications of extinguishing the chances of an ‘us’.

So in the end she didn’t cheat, our timing was actually synchronized, and she lived a mere 15 minutes (not states) away. But the fruit basket would be the demise. Surprising and disappointing indeed.

onetrik…now where are my pants…

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About usbottlesandfriends
The tales of unpredictable truths from those guys your mom warned you about.

2 Responses to what she had meant to do…

  1. shaun Joyner says:

    Lol. Duly noted. No fruit baskets to a “friends” job! So Funny!

  2. Pingback: Tweets that mention what she had meant to do… « Us, Bottles, and Friends -- Topsy.com

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