I'm so over it
It was about 11 p.m. Thursday night that I realized how ironic life can be. I was sitting in the corner booth at Innisfree, a little irish pub in town that we always go to, and I was surrounded by a group of 15 frat boys/alum in their 20's who were riding across the country on their bikes (a la' Lance Armstrong) for charity. They started out riding in San Francisco in June, and are scheduled to finish up in D.C. next week. I had actually interviewed a few of them for the newspaper earlier that day, and one of them, Paul, from Chicago, had asked me to show the guys the places to go around town. So, Thursday my roommate and another coworker headed out.
But, by 11 p.m. I was tired of being there. I had had countless Amaretto Sours placed in front of me by a 38 year-old 5-foot man who dressed like a 20-year-old and kept telling me that it was "fate" that I had interviewed him that day because I was "someone special" and it was a rare occurence when two "driven people cross paths." I wanted to roll my eyes and gag.
At the same time, I couldn't help but recognize the irony behind it all. A little more than 5 months ago I was sitting at Innisfree with a guy who was walking across the country for charity. My roommate had interviewed him and then asked him to come out because he seemed lonely. Then, something clicked. I don't know what it was, but I fell for him, hard. He wasn't all slimey and schmoozing like that cyclist. He was a christian who was a lot like me, or at least I thought. His weekend stop in town on his way to Spokane ended up turning into about three weekends of visits and three months of a serious relationship.. or at least as serious as you can get when your boyfriend is walking across the country for charity. We fell hard and quick for each other, and then it ended just the same.
And it all started with a mission, and a story, and a night at the Irish pub. Five months later, it was the same ingredients, but everything was different. At 11:30 I got up out of the booth and decided to leave. I'm sick of the "traveling across the country for charity" type of guy. Been there. Done that. Time for me to move on. I discovered that after five months of swooning and mourning a guy who was seemingly selfless, I'm so over it.
But, by 11 p.m. I was tired of being there. I had had countless Amaretto Sours placed in front of me by a 38 year-old 5-foot man who dressed like a 20-year-old and kept telling me that it was "fate" that I had interviewed him that day because I was "someone special" and it was a rare occurence when two "driven people cross paths." I wanted to roll my eyes and gag.
At the same time, I couldn't help but recognize the irony behind it all. A little more than 5 months ago I was sitting at Innisfree with a guy who was walking across the country for charity. My roommate had interviewed him and then asked him to come out because he seemed lonely. Then, something clicked. I don't know what it was, but I fell for him, hard. He wasn't all slimey and schmoozing like that cyclist. He was a christian who was a lot like me, or at least I thought. His weekend stop in town on his way to Spokane ended up turning into about three weekends of visits and three months of a serious relationship.. or at least as serious as you can get when your boyfriend is walking across the country for charity. We fell hard and quick for each other, and then it ended just the same.
And it all started with a mission, and a story, and a night at the Irish pub. Five months later, it was the same ingredients, but everything was different. At 11:30 I got up out of the booth and decided to leave. I'm sick of the "traveling across the country for charity" type of guy. Been there. Done that. Time for me to move on. I discovered that after five months of swooning and mourning a guy who was seemingly selfless, I'm so over it.
posted by Lydia at 11:31 AM
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