Not then, not now, not ever

Long greeted me with a hug and there was a flutter in my tummy as I took in his cologne that drowned out the stale air of the nursing home, and the warmth in his embrace that took away the chill of this Christmas Day.

“NO!!! NO! Do NOT start to feel this way about him! DO NOT! HE IS OFF LIMITS!” I squished the fluttery feeling flat almost instantly.

Long and I met over a year ago at a West Village bar when I showed up with a “date” who proceeded to leave me alone for the rest of the night. Long was one of the bartenders and immediately I was attracted to him with his EMO black hair, square chunky glasses, narrow tie, skinny jeans, and tacky huge scorpion belt buckle. He had the air of a typical NY bartender, “I’m so over this scene so don’t mess with me”, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at him and watch him interact with drunken clientele. He was a smooth operator. Women were very obviously trying to get and keep his attention, but he never gave them any more attention than needed to get their drink order, serve the drink, and collect the money. He didn’t smile and didn’t seem to care about conversing with any of the modelesque girls who were draped over the bar barely wearing anything that could be called clothing.

I ordered a cranberry juice from him and my knees went a bit wobbly when he leaned in closer to me across the bar to hear me better. When I repeated my request, he smiled and looked at me intently for just a bit longer than I felt comfortable with, as if he were taking mental notes. That smile! If I were a cat I would’ve purred.

Our fingers brushed when I handed him the dollar bills and it made me so flustered that I couldn’t look at him for most of the rest of the evening. I spent the rest of my time on this “date” wondering where my “date” went off to and standing alone in a corner watching everyone dance.

An unexpected series of events led to me working at the bar as a cocktail waitress the very next night.

I began my training with none other than Long. He was the bartender I reported to the whole night.

He smiled at me with that same smile that made my knees wobbly and I silently cheered myself for having worn an outfit that screamed I AM HOT! I silently cursed myself for wearing heels because there was no way I was going to be able to keep my balance if he kept giving me that sexy smile of his.

He mentioned that he remembered seeing me the night before and even remembered the coral colored dress I had been wearing. If it hadn’t been for my lightning quick reaction to grip the edge of the bar, I probably would’ve fallen flat on my butt from the shock of HIM REMEMBERING ME.

Long trained me well and I ended up keeping the job for six months (which had been unheard of with previous waitresses). I only worked with Long a few other times as he was the bartender upstairs and I was always waitressing downstairs and reporting to a different bartender. Our interaction was limited to cheek kisses hello, waves and smiles throughout the long evenings, brief conversations over loud music, and a hug at closing. The crush I had on him waned over time, especially since it was made clear to me by upper management that dating other employees was totally looked down upon and if push came to shove, jobs would be lost. Also, when I thought rationally about it, I realized that I didn’t want all the hassle that went along with dating a totally hot bartender (mainly the late hours and all the insecurities that come with knowing your boyfriend is constantly being hit on by modelesque women).

There were three times my crush on him roared back into me like a rebel on a motorcycle. Once when I fell down the stairs during a shift painfully turning my ankle, Long scooped me up like a feather, carried me out of the bar and across the street to a cab, and paid the cab driver to take my gimp self home. Damsel in distress. Night in shining armor. Of course my heart skipped and sing-songed his name for a few shifts after that.

The second time was on a fake date. I say fake because there was no romance (from his end) involved but I adored him the whole evening. He invited me out to dinner, (Maryann’s) and then took me to a karaoke birthday party where he sang Aerosmith’s “Living on the Edge.” He was terrible. Absolutely horrible. Tone deaf. He sang it as if he were a true rock star and because of that lack of self consciousness and inhibition I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to make him mine. I didn’t. I knew he wasn’t interested and I knew I would just get hurt. Over dinner he had explained that he had never really been single, constantly going from one long term monogamous relationship to another for almost 10 years straight. He explained that he was in a phase of his life where he was trying to just have fun as an actor, dj, bartender, life coach, single guy. I think it was his way of telling me that I shouldn’t seek anything more from our friendship than just that. A friendship. So I didn’t.

The third time I felt like my heart would explode was LAST Christmas. Knowing that I had nowhere to go he invited me to volunteer with him at a nursing home in the Lower East side at a Christmas party he had help to create. Within the first hour after a brief conversation with a frail wisp of a grandmotherly resident, I was an emotional wreck. I snuck out and hid in the stairwell sobbing because the loneliness, sadness, and sense of impending death overwhelmed me. I missed my own Grandma as well. Long found me and without a word held me against him, letting my tears soak his shoulder and snot stain his shirt, until I stopped shaking.

“I’m so sorry. I’m useless. My tears are useless.” I could barely talk and the body shaking sobs threatened to start again.

Long took my smudgy wet snotty face in his hands, looked into me not just AT me, and replied,
“Your tears are worth it. You’re making a difference in people’s lives here. It’s small, and you may not notice but you make them smile. You give them attention. You touch their hands. Your tears are worth it for one moment of their happiness.” And that was it. My time of being ok with just being friends with him was over. I was in a state of puppy love for months after that. I never let on to anyone about how I felt. I didn’t back away from him nor did I attempt to get closer to him. It was a challenge for me to just keep acting “normal” as if I hadn’t just fallen hopelessly in love with an unattainable man.

Once again, over time, it waned and before I knew it, things were back to where they had been and I was happy just being friends with him. I quit the bar and only had the pleasure of hanging out with Long twice in 6 months, neither time did I feel a spark of romantic interest.

This Christmas, once again, Long invited me back to the nursing home to volunteer. This time I didn’t become an emotional wreck, but Long still checked in with me every chance he got, just to make sure I wasn’t on the verge of breaking down again. After the party Long took me to dinner at Yaffa Café. It felt cozy to be across the table from him and the little flutter that had fluttered when I first greeted him, started fluttering again over dinner. We laughed and caught up on each other’s lives. I remembered all the things that attracted me to him. Obviously his sexiness, but more than that, his determination to be at peace in his life. Despite working in the crazy scene that comes with being a bartender and dj and actor, he is very focused on moving forward in life. He is a devoted son to his mother. He volunteers at the nursing home. He is an avid cyclist and is attempting to become a runner. He hasn’t lost hope that his big break in acting will come eventually. He works hard and is very diligent about getting acting gigs (mostly background work but 5+ days a week he is either at an audition, on a set somewhere, or both) and now is starting to move up in the world of Dj-ing.

After dinner he invited me to a Christmas party his friends were hosting. A walking talking Anime character bounded up to us and in Japanese started to excitedly gesture back and forth between me and Long, her eyes growing bigger and bigger with each statement. I didn’t understand anything but got the gist that she was asking if I was his girlfriend. Long answered ‘no’ (I think) but Miss Anime didn’t seem to believe him (or maybe he hadn’t answered her?) because after shaking my hand she turned back to Long and said “Good Girlfriend” in plain English. Long just grinned and waved her away.

Long introduced me to everyone as his friend and made sure I felt comfortable in the crowd, never doing that annoying thing of leaving me to stand alone awkwardly on the outside of a conversation, but always making it a point to include me. It was nice. Flutter, flutter, FLUTTER. I wished mistletoe would fall from the sky.

Despite my sleepiness I accepted his invitation to go to a movie after the party. We chose
It’s Complicated because he wanted to point out the scene he was in (as background). I couldn’t resist, and his darn smile had me hooked all over again. By the way, It’s Complicated is a great sweet date movie! It’s not your typical guy bashing chick flick nor does it subject itself to cheap clichés or easy humor. Plus, Meryl Streep is simply gorgeous and hilarious.

He sat with his shoulder pressed against mine for pretty much the whole movie. *sigh*.
After the movie we shared his teeny tiny umbrella and walked to my train station. We stood on the platform and it occurred to me that my train was NOT the same train he needed.

“Whoa! What are you doing? Where are you going? This isn’t your train!” I slapped him on the arm.
He laughed and put his arm around me.

“Don’t worry! I’m just going to wait with you. Why not? I want you to text me when you get home so I know you’re safe too.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then sat down on a bench.

“Come home with me.” I bit my tongue before the words could escape. I mentally kicked my own brain to beat the suggestion into submission.

I replayed our dinner conversation where he reiterated his statement about wanting to have “fun.” As Long continued to talk to me about what it was like on the set of “It’s Complicated” , on repeat in my inner dialogue I could hear him saying at dinner “…but I’m getting bored of dating. Soon I’ll be ready to settle down again. I don’t know when, but soon. I think I have almost all of it out of my system.”
“It” being his bachelor lifestyle where the women are plenty.

“So…did he tell me that as a…signal? Is he preparing me for the time when he’s ready to just settle down…with me?” I mentally kicked myself again and the battle of my inner selves began.
“OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOT!!! He’s just your friend and he just appreciates your point of view.”
“But what if..?”
“NO WHAT IFS!!!! If he was truly interested in a relationship with you, he would get over his bachelor lifestyle, RIGHT THIS INSTANT after spending 10 straight hours with you! DON’T BE STUPID AND PINE FOR HIM!!!”
“Right, but-”
“NO IFS, ANDS OR BUTS! He’s your friend. Your crush on him waxes and wanes anyways, so what’s the good in that? Yeah tonight was fantastic, but it’s easy to make ONE night FANFLIPPIN’ TASTIC.”
“Ok, but-”
“10 hours. 10 HOURS. If he doesn’t want to be with you after a year of knowing you and after 10 hours of hanging out with you, then it ain’t gonna happen babe.”

The train arrived. A kiss on the cheek, a tight hug, and then the doors closed. I waved goodbye to Long through the glass. I waved goodbye to him and the possibility of him being the man of my dreams. If he didn’t want me then, and he doesn’t want me now, then I don’t want him ever. Right? Right.