#JustSayin: The Anonymous Adventures of James A. Turnkey
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet by buddy James. We started talking in the social space not too long ago, and he asked if he could write for us. I was all, dude! so rad! Whatcha wanna talk about? Dating! He said! But is it cool if I'm anonymous? I was all ... surrrreeeee thing with me! So, now, here's another dude's side of things in this new dating world we are now emerged in. I only have one thing left to say ... HIT JAMES!!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's James A. Turnkey
Back in November, I started networking and getting to know Jen Friel. Told her I wanted to start writing posts for her website(www.talknerdytomelover.com). What started out being an idea for a project, a way to express the thoughts that had been stewing in my mind, turned into a whole new experience and task that has become a daily routine for me. I told her originally that I wanted to write about what it was like for a guy in the modern world to start dating again after a tough break up. After a tough, crushing, blow to the heart, what would it take to repair and attempt to reconnect?
The first article I sent her way went over with much success. She really enjoyed it and wanted more; even gave me a deadline (every Saturday before noon). The first article was more or less an introduction, in a sense, to who I was and what I wanted to try to convey. Within the following week two things occurred. First thing was a date that night. I went with a girl I had been seeing for less than a month. The second was a party the following Friday in which I meet a unique and amazing young woman.
The date with the first girl, Amy, was to a BBQ restaurant. I had made plans to go to a car hop in Burbank instead because I knew how we both really enjoyed classic cars. Not giving away details, because I wanted it to be a surprise, she declined a trip with me that was too far from where she lived. She said she was still trying to get to know me. It had been more than a month. We had not done anything other than texting, coffee dates, and lunches. Dear Amy had severe issues created from her past. She was quite beautiful and was hilarious. I could finally see myself settling down to try a relationship. So with my amazing surprise date idea thrown out the window, we agreed on a BBQ place a few miles from her house.
There was a thirty minute wait for us to be seated. During this time, we utilized our time to discuss who we were and what we were looking for. Deep conversations on past affairs and what would be the ideal situation to try a relationship. She admitted to me that she had never been in a relationship, which always made her feel like leftovers for the guys she met. Being rather confused asked her to dive deeper into the subject. From there I discovered that she had a deep routed resentment towards her best friend. This best friend of hers was, as she described her, “The Perfect Girl”. Looks, charm, and looks. I replied to her that there was so much more to make a “perfect” girl.
The situation she seemed to constantly relive, over and over, was being at a party watching every guy come up to her and the best friend. Every guy would flirt, chat, dance, and give 100% of their attention to the best friend. While she just stood there sipping on her beer filled red cup. After a while, the best friend would shoot down the guys and become nothing more than the vicious tease every guy knows. After the denial of anything more than a “look but no touch” policy, the guys who turn to Amy and discover that she in fact… had a brain.
The rest of dinner was filled with her telling me all about her baggage. How she felt like she was worthless other than her… real estate.
After my last failed relationship, I was FAR from willing to deal with a large amount of emotional baggage. Just being a few months of finally distancing myself from that mental state, I knew right away that I was not willing to jump right back into having responsibility in assisting with such a load of emotional damage. Deep down within my mind, I knew that this would be the last time her and I would meet. That after finishing my pulled pork sandwich I would shake her hand and we would part ways for good.
That night I lay in bed alone. Thinking about how easy it would have been to just turn on my charm full blast. How it would be impossible for her to resist being the one asking ME to take her home. Reminiscing over my college days where taking a girl home became more than just a sport. It became an art form. What so many guys back then, hell even now, don’t understand is that to ensure the one night stand, you must place the idea of it into the girl’s mind. To make her think it was her idea all along.
Suddenly, the dark room was filled with a blue hint of light. Looking towards the display on my phone, I could tell I got a text message. Thinking it was Amy, I wanted to ignore it and just fall asleep. Thoughts of how to break it off with her started to overflow my mind. To clear my head I would have to respond.
It wasn’t Amy.
My best friend since Junior high hit me up. Telling me how he was going to throw a house warming party the next weekend and wanted me to be there. First, he wanted to make it clear to me that Amy was of course invited to come along. My reply was informing him that I was breaking it off with her. My settled down, in a stable relationship then changed his attitude. There was promises made for food, but most importantly, he promised women. Our shared past were that of trying to figure out the best way to get women. Now with him “retired” from the game, it was very clear to me that he wanted me to make it into the hall of fame. All I wanted to do was “retire” while I still have a good enough “batting average”.
I agreed to show while offering to bar tend. Who knew that that night would officially change the direction of my life completely? I certainly didn’t know…
That week I ended up breaking it off with Amy. The rest of the week was rather quiet and to be honest, lonely. Work was the same as always, trying to avoid going to Carmen’s (ex-girlfriend) side of the room. Praying that she would avoid coming to my side of the department. When work was over, I made sure to release my inner anger by running close to five miles (with a smoke break halfway of course). Soon enough the Friday came around.
The party was the usual get together for my oldest best friend and his roommates (other close friends of mine). I bartended throughout the night making sure that drinks were made to order and some of the “guest” received more than needed. Every single girl was already “assigned” to our friends that were weak in the field of flirting. I was more or less left to the drinks and doing my best to avoid being too witty with the beautiful girls that came up asking for a drink. The three roommates who were throwing the party had a habit of becoming rather mad at me when I did nothing to foil their match making attempts. There had been plenty of times in which I was actually told I was not ALLOWED to speak…. At all…
As I avoided a compliment about my eyes, in walked a young woman, one that was unlike any I had seen before. She had long, hazel hair. Wearing tight jeans, high leather boots, and a pink Misfits shirt; she hugged her friend. Every sound in the room was muffled by the humming in my ears. Placing the filled drink onto the counter, I turned to wash my hands, to prepare myself for introduction. Ignoring the next set of drink orders I walked over towards the door to meet her. Our shared friend turned from the hug to introduce me.
“James, I want you to meet Mary. Mary Wilkes.” The mutual friend gave me a wink.
“Hello Mary, My name is James…” I shook her hand with a hint of nervousness.
She chuckled, “Yes, I know that”.
The rest of the night, I abandoned my duties as bartender to talk to Mary. We spent time inside with the group and time outside smoking alone. Our conversations ranged from her love of baseball (I know…I know…), our common love for all music, and about our past. In one night, I had learned more about Mary than I did the whole month talking to Amy. That was the night where the thought of looking to date anyone else slipped my mind completely. In my eyes, there was no one else in that apartment.
Just Mary and I.
Alone.
Craving to get to know each other more.
We were the last ones to fall asleep. While everyone else past out from intoxication, she and I lay on the couch listening to each other’s voice, heartbeat, and breath.
A week later, she and I went on our first date and my ability to write about dating in the modern world for Jen slipped through my finger tips; while I did everything I could to make sure Mary did not.
When the next deadline came around, I sent Jen a short story I had written about the first night I spent with Mary. She told me it was beautifully written but she was hoping for more Blog style, stream of conscious, than a short story. I told her I would do my best to make up for it….
As I sit here finishing this article, in the middle of a corporate office I check my phone. One text message is waiting for me.
“Hello Sexy Bear.”
I smile and click save for this document.