The Enthusiast

Approximately five (5) minutes before slipping out the door for my lunch date with "The Enthusiast" I received this email;

When their eyes met their was a spark!
When their lips met their was lighting!!
When their hearts met,.. their was thunder!!!!

My response to his hopeful message was: "Ahhhhh
hhhh". (Breathing in) "Ahhhhhhhhh".

Prior to this he had left approximately eight (8) messages on my cell per day.Don't get me wrong, I enjoy enthusiasm. I really do. But say, after the seventh time I don't pick up.... shouldn't it infer I don't want to talk?

Checking my messages:

Enthusiast: "Hi Charmaine this is…"
click
Enthusiast: "Hi Charmaine this is..."
click
Enthusiast: "Hi Charmaine this is..."
click

I'm not a cruel woman. I just have a short attention span. Please don't say the exact same thing...if you don't want me to hang up.

Eventually we talked. And talk he did until my cell died. I confess to having had two glasses of wine (and a Tylenol PM) which miraculously helps the time fly.

Our conversation:

Enthusiast: "The first time I had sex with my High School girlfriend was..."
Me: "Wow."
Enthusiast: "Bla bla bla"
Me: "Really?"
Enthusiast: " Bla bla bla."
Me: Fails to respond. Sound of heavy breathing. SNORT.

(I have sleep apnea.)

The next day he called, "Meet me at the Mexican Food Place on the right after crossing the bridge onto Newport Boulevard.

I've lived here a LONG time. I had no idea where he meant. But I could get there.

I arrived to learn that this man drove 1.5 hours from San Diego to meet me at a fast food dive.

He said, "Wow, you are nothing like I pictured. I had no idea you would be so hot". I appreciated this remark. I'd had my hair done the day prior.

When I arrived my hairstylist commented, "Jeez. You are totally Blonde and your hair is fried". I said, "I know. Just fix it".

Apparently "just fix it,” means dye the clients hair black.

We placed our orders. He told the girl behind the counter the order was, "to go". Huh? "Where are you taking me?" I said. "It's a surprise" he responded. "You'd better not try to abduct me cuz I'll kick your ass" I said affectionately..

His plan was to take our disgusting lunch and drive to the Balboa Auto Ferry (sit on the bench as the Ferry drove back and forth) and eat it.

I imagine he thought this was clever. (I had mentioned that I like the water.) But I live here. The Auto Ferry is a means to an end, it’s a way of getting from point A to point B. I like it, for sure, but the smell of diesel fuel as locals glare at me from behind their car windows as I eat lunch like a refugee from Afghanistan with no place to go doesn't really work for me.

He paid the Ferry boy an extra 10 bucks for the privilege of allowing us to go back and forth on the Ferry. The kid tried to give the money back. The Enthusiast was demonstrating that he was a big spender. The burrito in front of me begged to differ.

Now here's the thing. I told "The Enthusiast" about my blog. (Note to self: Don’t ever do that again.) I told him I would not write about him or post his picture.

I did not post his picture so, technically speaking, I am not a total liar. Right?