Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Life is full of surprises

On doctor's orders I organized and attended a birthday party for my friend Minka. In Brooklyn. I like Mexican food, and there's a kosher Mexican restaurant on Coney Island Avenue, which is a short-ish train ride from my job.

Exactly Ten (ET), who was extremely distraught he couldn't go to my Dunkin' Donuts birthday party on Sunday, had offered to take me out to dinner afterward. Then he suggested we combine it with Minka's birthday on Monday and invite about 20 more people. He insisted he would pay for my meal, which I assumed was his birthday present to me. So I went.

ET sat next to me, which I made nothing of, because we're friends. Right? Minka sat across from me. I was wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, over which I had draped a filmy scarf folded to make it more opaque. Even though we weren't drinking, for some reason the scarf kept unfolding and escaping, and Minka noticed.

"Nice breasts, Ayelet!" she said. "Lose the scarf!"

What the heck, I'm with friends. I put the scarf in my bag.

"Now I'm going to make my move," joked ET. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, prepatory to slipping one around me.

"Poke him, Ayelet!" said my friend Bracha. I tickled him on his side and he dropped his arms, and we all laughed. I would have thought nothing of it, but he attempted the same move about three more times. I couldn't understand why.

"Who wants to shoot pool?" said ET as the dinner wound to a close. "Ayelet, I'll drive you home if you go. Bracha too." Bracha lives two blocks from me.

"Sure," I said. A guy I have the tiniest crush on, Eli, was also there. "Come shoot pool with us!" I said. Eli is very shy and quiet, but he smiled and agreed.

Nobody else was up for pool at 10 p.m. Kind of late for me, too, but on Tuesdays I start work at 12, and besides, didn't Dr. Roda say I need a social life? I'm terrible at pool, so I thought I'd distract ET with my low-cut dress and maybe gain an advantage. He's a guy, and if Minka liked my breasts, I'm sure he will. Right?

We went to the pool hall. First ET and I played, while Bracha took on Eli. Every time ET lined up a shot, I leaned over the pocket.

"You're not playing fair," said ET.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No," said ET, and missed his shot. I missed most of mine; ET's a much better player. He missed the best shot I made because he was talking to some really hot teenage guy, like a blond surfer with a yarmulke, at the next pool table. After that, I made a number of spiteful comments about "your boyfriend." As in:

"You missed my shot because you were busy with your boyfriend!"

"Stop making out with your boyfriend and take your shot!"

ET responded with, "You're beautiful, Ayelet!"

Interesting. Eventually ET won the game, and I played Eli while ET took on Bracha. Three times. His games with her went much more quickly. I thought it was because Eli and I were both terrible. We left the pool hall. ET dropped off Eli and drove into Manhattan.

"Who do I drop off first?" asked ET. At this point, I thought... I have a shot. Not sure at what. But he's into me. I'm getting that vibe.

"You should take Bracha first," I said. "Then go down Columbus, loop around, and go up my street. Otherwise you'll have to drive all the way over to Amsterdam." They agreed that was the logical route.

In front of Bracha's building, she leaned into the front seat to hug and kiss me good night. (I was riding shotgun.)

"Don't I get a hug?" asked ET. She hugged him too, from behind, and his head twisted sideways.

"You're welcome," said ET.

"Huh?" Bracha and I said.

"I mean -- good night! Thanks for coming! Great games!" said ET.

We drove to my street. There was an empty spot in front of my building, and ET pulled in.

"I had fun tonight," I said. "Thanks for dragging me to Brooklyn."

"Thanks for coming to Brooklyn," he said, "and wearing that dress."

"I was hoping it would throw you off your game more," I said.

"Are you kidding?" he said. "I played three games with Bracha in the time it took me to play one game with you. I never take that long to line up my shots. And I usually watch my shots as I hit them."

"What were you watching?" I asked playfully.

"You," he said, suddenly serious.

I was... extremely surprised. He's made a point of telling me how ancient I am, how he doesn't date girls more than two years older than he is, how he looks forward to going to my shabbos kallah when I get married, etc. Not the kind of things a guy who wants you tends to say. Was the insistence on paying for my dinner his way of saying it was a date?

"Want to come up to my apartment?" I asked.

"Yes," he said immediately.

We went upstairs and kissed. "You're so beautiful," he kept saying. "Your body is so hot. I said 'You're welcome' when Bracha hugged me because I was staring at your breasts. It made no sense! I was totally distracted."

"I weigh more than you do," I murmured.

"Weight is just a number," he said, "like age." Six months ago he was calling me geriatric. This is... different.

"How long have you felt like this about me?" I asked.

"Talk to the hot girl at the Shabbos Nachamu meal," he said. "That's what I thought when I first saw you. That you play Connect Four and even beat me was an unexpected bonus, and a total turn-on. You were wearing a pink dress the first time I saw you." For a guy who likes numbers, he's pretty visual.

At 2 a.m. I had to go to sleep. ET asked if I would join him for dinner on Wednesday; he'll be on the West Side to play soccer with friends, and afterward he'll be hungry. He again told me he'd pay for my dinner. Is this a date?

I wasn't sure if I had plans. Not that I'm such the social butterfly, but I wanted to check. Since I'm free, I sent him an email:

Wednesday night works. Do you want to me to catch the end of your soccer game? I can go straight from work. Otherwise I can meet you at the restaurant.

Stay tuned... I also got a call from a guy Ziva set me up with. I'll have to call him tonight. Maybe I'll see him Thursday, or Saturday night. I put the rose quartz back in my bra. I am attracting love and admiration.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"


  1. LIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


  2. that is 100% definitely a date! Making out in cars immediately followed by asking you to dinner= date :)

    I'm excited for you! Yay for first dates! :)

    Also, weight is just a #- I weigh more than my husband, but I also have much bigger boobs than he does :)

  3. Good luck. As a guy it sounds to me like the guy may be smitten. Especially if you were already friends- I would never take such a chance with a friend (and risk losing the friendship) unless I thought it was REALLY worth the risk (i.e. she could be the one).

  4. This is beginning to sound interesting! Can't wait for the next blog. Hugs my friend.

  5. If this happened without the quartz, I guess that proves the quartz is worthless. Or maybe works against you. Keep the quartz out. In fact, keep the men out of your bra also til you're married. Sex confuses the relationship beyond rational thought. Let the sparks fly without the complication. If it works out of the bedroom then you have a foundation on which to build. If you jump in the sack, you'll never be clear headed enough to know whether the relationship is right or not. That's why the Torah sets the limits it does. It works in our favor.