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Sensuality
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Urbanism
Part 5
Getting ready for my dinner date, I couldn’t tell if I was more excited or terrified. The last two dinners with James had been lovely, but I worried that if I had another lovely dinner without so much as a kiss, the relationship window might close forever.
At dinner, James was dressed stylishly as ever. The problem, of course, was that we only ever met at stylish restaurants. Maybe if we went to a Mets game, I could tell whether he was dressing for me or the occasion.
James: You know, it’s hard comparing these to the last meatballs we had. They’re just so different.
Carrie: Like comparing meatballs and oranges?
James: Absolutely! Would you mind if I used that in my review?
Carrie: Are we on a date?
James: What?
Carrie: Right now. Is this a date?
James: Like, dinner?
Carrie: Yes dinner! What else would I be asking about?
James: Sorry, I’m…okay. Sorry. Just a little flustered.
Carrie: Sorry. Of course this isn’t a date. How stupid of me!
James: No. Don’t apologize. You have every right to ask me what’s going on here.
Carrie: “What’s going on here.” That doesn’t really sound like a date.
James: No. I wouldn’t really call this a date.
Carrie: Now when you say, “really,” what does that…?
James: It means I’m seeing someone else.
Carrie: Oh.
James: Yeah.
Carrie: And so we’re…
James: Friends?
Carrie: Ooo. That’s what I was afraid you’d say.
James: So you don’t want to be friends?
Carrie: Wait, but when I asked you if you’d seen that the newspaper called us a couple, you said…
James: That it was pretty crazy.
Carrie: God, I’m such an idiot!
James: No you’re not.
Carrie: Easy for you to say!
James: No, I’m the idiot here.
Carrie: I don’t see how you got to that conclusion.
James: Because I’m the one here dating a married man.
Carrie: Oh!
James: Yeah.
Carrie: So you’re…
James: Bi? Yeah. Bi and stupid.
Carrie: Huh.
James: You know, in a sad, twisted way, this is kinda good news for me. I was kinda convinced that everyone at work knew about Bertrand and me. It’s part of why I never said anything about what was going on between us. I just assumed you already knew all about my situation.
Carrie: Wait, Bertrand. Like work Bertrand? Bertrand Ellis?
James: I know. And everybody knows that it’s a mistake to date your boss. I know it’s a mistake. Yet here I am. On a date with a beautiful woman my age, thinking about my sixty year old boyfriend uptown.
Carrie: Wait wait wait wait wait. Wait wait wait!
James: I know. I know.
Carrie: Because Bertrand Ellis is married to…
James: I know.
Carrie: So are they…?
James: Separated? Yes. But they’ve agreed not to make it public until Francis goes to college.
Carrie: How long is…
James: He’s a senior in high school. So maybe next fall. Maybe a little after that. I don’t know. He says that she “holds all the cards,” but I think she just might be the only one willing to talk about it.
Carrie: Wow. That sounds terrible.
James: The awful truth is that it isn’t terrible. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been. We spend two or three nights together a week and then I go back to my apartment I love and my friends and my writing. If I could just stop worrying about it so much, I might really be happy.
Carrie: But what if she finds out?
James: She knows. I come over to the house. We text about movies.
Carrie: So I’m just cover? To throw people off the scent?
James: I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t relieved to see we were in the paper together. When I heard I was in the gossip section, I almost had a heart attack.
Carrie: But that’s not why you keep taking me to all these nice restaurants, right?
James: No. I’ve just been having a good time.
Carrie: Oh.
James: And when I thought, “Who do I want to get dinner with?” the answer was you.
Carrie: Maybe I should go.
James: I understand. But I really hope you’ll stay.
I was too turned around to take another bite. I couldn’t tell if I was mad at James or if I felt sorry for him. He’d never told me we were dating. I couldn’t point to any moment when I felt like he was leading me on. But I had been led on. I had gotten excited about this relationship only to be blindsided by some secret I was apparently supposed to already know. I realized that it didn’t matter if he had done anything wrong or not. I needed to leave and that was reason enough to go.
By the time I got home, James had already left three voicemails. The first apologized for keeping a secret. The second asked whether we could still be friends. And the third proposed that I get dinner with him and Bertrand.
The whole thing had me asking myself why I cared so much about being in a relationship. Here I was having a lovely time with someone who understood my job, understood my jokes, always took me to great restaurants, and yet it wasn’t enough for me unless he wanted to call it a date. Even sadder, I found myself jealous of James. Sure, he was in a secret relationship with a married man, but at least he had a boyfriend.
At dinner, James was dressed stylishly as ever. The problem, of course, was that we only ever met at stylish restaurants. Maybe if we went to a Mets game, I could tell whether he was dressing for me or the occasion.
James: You know, it’s hard comparing these to the last meatballs we had. They’re just so different.
Carrie: Like comparing meatballs and oranges?
James: Absolutely! Would you mind if I used that in my review?
Carrie: Are we on a date?
James: What?
Carrie: Right now. Is this a date?
James: Like, dinner?
Carrie: Yes dinner! What else would I be asking about?
James: Sorry, I’m…okay. Sorry. Just a little flustered.
Carrie: Sorry. Of course this isn’t a date. How stupid of me!
James: No. Don’t apologize. You have every right to ask me what’s going on here.
Carrie: “What’s going on here.” That doesn’t really sound like a date.
James: No. I wouldn’t really call this a date.
Carrie: Now when you say, “really,” what does that…?
James: It means I’m seeing someone else.
Carrie: Oh.
James: Yeah.
Carrie: And so we’re…
James: Friends?
Carrie: Ooo. That’s what I was afraid you’d say.
James: So you don’t want to be friends?
Carrie: Wait, but when I asked you if you’d seen that the newspaper called us a couple, you said…
James: That it was pretty crazy.
Carrie: God, I’m such an idiot!
James: No you’re not.
Carrie: Easy for you to say!
James: No, I’m the idiot here.
Carrie: I don’t see how you got to that conclusion.
James: Because I’m the one here dating a married man.
Carrie: Oh!
James: Yeah.
Carrie: So you’re…
James: Bi? Yeah. Bi and stupid.
Carrie: Huh.
James: You know, in a sad, twisted way, this is kinda good news for me. I was kinda convinced that everyone at work knew about Bertrand and me. It’s part of why I never said anything about what was going on between us. I just assumed you already knew all about my situation.
Carrie: Wait, Bertrand. Like work Bertrand? Bertrand Ellis?
James: I know. And everybody knows that it’s a mistake to date your boss. I know it’s a mistake. Yet here I am. On a date with a beautiful woman my age, thinking about my sixty year old boyfriend uptown.
Carrie: Wait wait wait wait wait. Wait wait wait!
James: I know. I know.
Carrie: Because Bertrand Ellis is married to…
James: I know.
Carrie: So are they…?
James: Separated? Yes. But they’ve agreed not to make it public until Francis goes to college.
Carrie: How long is…
James: He’s a senior in high school. So maybe next fall. Maybe a little after that. I don’t know. He says that she “holds all the cards,” but I think she just might be the only one willing to talk about it.
Carrie: Wow. That sounds terrible.
James: The awful truth is that it isn’t terrible. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been. We spend two or three nights together a week and then I go back to my apartment I love and my friends and my writing. If I could just stop worrying about it so much, I might really be happy.
Carrie: But what if she finds out?
James: She knows. I come over to the house. We text about movies.
Carrie: So I’m just cover? To throw people off the scent?
James: I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t relieved to see we were in the paper together. When I heard I was in the gossip section, I almost had a heart attack.
Carrie: But that’s not why you keep taking me to all these nice restaurants, right?
James: No. I’ve just been having a good time.
Carrie: Oh.
James: And when I thought, “Who do I want to get dinner with?” the answer was you.
Carrie: Maybe I should go.
James: I understand. But I really hope you’ll stay.
I was too turned around to take another bite. I couldn’t tell if I was mad at James or if I felt sorry for him. He’d never told me we were dating. I couldn’t point to any moment when I felt like he was leading me on. But I had been led on. I had gotten excited about this relationship only to be blindsided by some secret I was apparently supposed to already know. I realized that it didn’t matter if he had done anything wrong or not. I needed to leave and that was reason enough to go.
By the time I got home, James had already left three voicemails. The first apologized for keeping a secret. The second asked whether we could still be friends. And the third proposed that I get dinner with him and Bertrand.
The whole thing had me asking myself why I cared so much about being in a relationship. Here I was having a lovely time with someone who understood my job, understood my jokes, always took me to great restaurants, and yet it wasn’t enough for me unless he wanted to call it a date. Even sadder, I found myself jealous of James. Sure, he was in a secret relationship with a married man, but at least he had a boyfriend.
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