The first 10 months of my flight attendant career were spent on reserve. This meant that I was on call and had little to no say over my schedule or my life. After almost a year of this my closest flight attendant friend Kylie and I were extremely tired of being on reserve to say the least. Our airline was coming up on their slowest months of the year and, in order to avoid paying more of us then they’d need to, offered what they called R&R. A rest and relaxation period of 1 to 2 of months unpaid vacation. Kylie thought we should request the 2 months off and leave the country. I reminded her we wouldn’t be getting paid and asked how she figured we could live for 2 months without a salary. She said we’d get a job that paid us “under the table” and that we’d make it work. It took about 3 days on her part to sway me into agreeing to this crazy idea. We put in our request for R&R and waited to see if it would be awarded to us.
The following week Kylie called me ecstatic with the news that we’d gotten approved. We’d have the next 2 months off and would be heading out of the country. She suggested we go to Australia and I agreed since I’d always wanted to go there. One of our roommates was from New Zealand and told us that, if we were going that far, we had to stop in her hometown on the way. She set us up with a place to stay in Auckland and 2 weeks later we were on a plane heading to the other side of the world.
Our first night in Auckland, New Zealand, we weren’t too impressed. It just seemed like another typical city. We agreed that perhaps we should leave in a couple of days and head on over to Australia. That is until the next evening.
We stepped into a random bar to have a beer and were standing next to a couple of cute New Zealand men who, when they heard our American accents, asked if they could buy us a beer as a welcome to their country. We thanked them and began chatting. The one I found attractive introduced himself as Ted. We began flirting a bit and it turned out he was as charming as he was handsome, and while I could only understand about every 3rd word he said with his thick accent, I found it irresistible nonetheless. He asked if I’d ever met a Kiwi before I’d come to New Zealand. I was confused since I wasn’t sure why he was asking me about fruit, and he explained that “kiwi” was a slang term they used to describe natives of New Zealand. I told him that other than the delicious kiwis I'd come across in my fruit salads, no, he was the first. He gave me an amused smile and told me I was in for a real treat then.
We discussed our occupations, told them what we did, and then Ted told us he sold pots. My initial assumption was that he sold marijuana, which I was shocked he was promoting so freely, but turned out he actually sold pots. As in pots that hold plants. I couldn’t believe that was an actual job but apparently he did well selling his pots. He had the perk of getting to travel around the country while being put up in hotel rooms and also made a decent living. When I asked if they might hire two American girls to sell pots “under the table” he just gave me a look I took to mean fat chance silly American. He then turned to Kylie and I and abruptly asked, “How would you two Yanks like to see the real New Zealand? We’re leaving Auckland tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. sharp and heading down to stay on my dad’s farm with a few stops along the way. You’ll have a free place to stay as long as you’re with us. What do you say?” Kylie and I took a moment to look at each other and knew what our unanimous decision was without having to say a word. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. How often do you get a free tour, plus accommodations, in a foreign country?! I was also secretly thrilled because I had a crush on our hot tour guide Ted and this would give me an excuse to pursue that as well. We told Ted we’d love to go.
I wondered what we had in store for us and hoped it was more adventure then trouble but, with my luck, the latter was more than likely to occur............To be continued
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Thursday, September 30, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The Pilot
One of the first rules I was taught in my earlier days as a flight attendant was to stay away from the pilots. I was forewarned that many of the pilots, who were more often than not married, would try to prey on the young attractive girls who didn’t yet know better. The rule was simple, basically stay away from them while off duty, on a layover, and especially while intoxicated. Unfortunately following the rules had never really been my strong suit.
It was one of my first layovers in San Francisco, and we’d had an extremely long day, the kind that made you desperately long for a cocktail by the end of it. So that’s what our crew collectively decided to do. There were two crews that got in at the same time to the hotel and we were all disappointed when we found out that the bar was closed. One of the pilots said he was going to have the hotel driver take him to the nearby liquor store and buy some beers for us, and told everyone to meet him down in the lobby in 10 minutes. We changed out of our uniforms and met down in the lobby where the pilot had set out not just beers for us, but also the biggest bottle of tequila I’d ever seen. Uh oh, this was definitely going against the rules. We all had a great time (how could you not after several shots of tequila,) and by the end of the evening things were beginning to get a bit fuzzy for me. The last thing I remember distinctly was standing on the table singing some song from a musical, which couldn’t have been a very pretty rendition after that much tequila. The rest of the crew were doing an equally terrible job singing backup for me. I also realized I was being a little too flirty with the cute-but-married pilot so decided I should at least attempt to follow the rules and head off to bed…alone. I knew I wouldn’t get away easily from the drunk crew and that they’d attempt talking me into staying up longer, so I decided I’d be sneaky and tell them I just needed to get something from my room and would be right back. That’s when the tequila blackout must have happened.
The next thing I knew I woke up in my hotel bed, which wouldn’t have been as disturbing if I hadn’t felt a foreign arm around my waist. Damn you tequila. I racked my brain and tried hard to remember anything at all from the previous night, anything after the point when I’d retreated to what I’d thought was the safety of my room. Blank…nothing…can’t remember a thing…DAMN YOU TEQUILA! I wasn’t in the same clothes I’d worn down to the lobby, I had apparently changed into just a t-shirt at some point. I still had no idea who was attached to this strange arm which was spooning me, oblivious to my panic. I decided there was only one way to find out. I turned around to look and, as I’d feared, there was the cute-but-married pilot smiling at me. I groaned and turned over, told him I was feeling ill from the drinking when he asked what was wrong, not sharing that I was actually feeling ill because I couldn’t believe this was happening. I decided I needed to know how this had come about and he may have been the only one who’d know. So I asked.
Here’s what allegedly happened after the tequila had thrown a dark blanket over my awareness. After I’d left the cute-but-married pilot had wondered what was taking me so long so he’d called my room. I answered the phone and told him I was staying up in my room and not coming back down. He asked me what room that was exactly and then I’d given him my room number. Brilliant idea. He’d come up to my room and knocked and apparently I’d let him in. After he’d finished the recap I asked if anything else had happened, and wondered when I had changed into the t-shirt (secretly hoping it wasn’t when he was in the room.) He told me I had already changed before he’d gotten to my room, (at least I had that going for me) and that while he’d hoped for more to happen (ew) he was a little disappointed that I’d passed out almost immediately (thank God for that.)
I told him I needed to go back to my room and recover from this hangover on my own. He reminded me we were already in my room. I told him in that case I needed him to leave my room so I could recover on my own. He looked insulted and a little pouty but he got up to leave. He sat on the bed and looked at me before he left and said, “I like you Parker, and I just have to tell you…” I prepared myself for the I’m married so don’t expect this to go anywhere speech I’d heard about from other flight attendants, and hoped he’d hurry up about it so I could nurse my hangover in peace. “I’m not looking for just a fling, I’m looking for a relationship.” He can’t be serious. I looked at him with a smirk ready to laugh but he actually was serious. “But, um….you’re married.” He told me he was “basically, for the most part” separated for now. I told him that when he was “basically, for the most part” divorced maybe we could have a different conversation but for now I really needed sleep. He stormed out, clearly not happy with my response.
I realized in that moment why the stay away from pilots rule had been put into place. I decided from then on I’d avoid tequila on layovers and make sure I wasn’t followed to my room by any cute-but-married-but-basically-for-the-most-part-separated pilots in the future.
It was one of my first layovers in San Francisco, and we’d had an extremely long day, the kind that made you desperately long for a cocktail by the end of it. So that’s what our crew collectively decided to do. There were two crews that got in at the same time to the hotel and we were all disappointed when we found out that the bar was closed. One of the pilots said he was going to have the hotel driver take him to the nearby liquor store and buy some beers for us, and told everyone to meet him down in the lobby in 10 minutes. We changed out of our uniforms and met down in the lobby where the pilot had set out not just beers for us, but also the biggest bottle of tequila I’d ever seen. Uh oh, this was definitely going against the rules. We all had a great time (how could you not after several shots of tequila,) and by the end of the evening things were beginning to get a bit fuzzy for me. The last thing I remember distinctly was standing on the table singing some song from a musical, which couldn’t have been a very pretty rendition after that much tequila. The rest of the crew were doing an equally terrible job singing backup for me. I also realized I was being a little too flirty with the cute-but-married pilot so decided I should at least attempt to follow the rules and head off to bed…alone. I knew I wouldn’t get away easily from the drunk crew and that they’d attempt talking me into staying up longer, so I decided I’d be sneaky and tell them I just needed to get something from my room and would be right back. That’s when the tequila blackout must have happened.
The next thing I knew I woke up in my hotel bed, which wouldn’t have been as disturbing if I hadn’t felt a foreign arm around my waist. Damn you tequila. I racked my brain and tried hard to remember anything at all from the previous night, anything after the point when I’d retreated to what I’d thought was the safety of my room. Blank…nothing…can’t remember a thing…DAMN YOU TEQUILA! I wasn’t in the same clothes I’d worn down to the lobby, I had apparently changed into just a t-shirt at some point. I still had no idea who was attached to this strange arm which was spooning me, oblivious to my panic. I decided there was only one way to find out. I turned around to look and, as I’d feared, there was the cute-but-married pilot smiling at me. I groaned and turned over, told him I was feeling ill from the drinking when he asked what was wrong, not sharing that I was actually feeling ill because I couldn’t believe this was happening. I decided I needed to know how this had come about and he may have been the only one who’d know. So I asked.
Here’s what allegedly happened after the tequila had thrown a dark blanket over my awareness. After I’d left the cute-but-married pilot had wondered what was taking me so long so he’d called my room. I answered the phone and told him I was staying up in my room and not coming back down. He asked me what room that was exactly and then I’d given him my room number. Brilliant idea. He’d come up to my room and knocked and apparently I’d let him in. After he’d finished the recap I asked if anything else had happened, and wondered when I had changed into the t-shirt (secretly hoping it wasn’t when he was in the room.) He told me I had already changed before he’d gotten to my room, (at least I had that going for me) and that while he’d hoped for more to happen (ew) he was a little disappointed that I’d passed out almost immediately (thank God for that.)
I told him I needed to go back to my room and recover from this hangover on my own. He reminded me we were already in my room. I told him in that case I needed him to leave my room so I could recover on my own. He looked insulted and a little pouty but he got up to leave. He sat on the bed and looked at me before he left and said, “I like you Parker, and I just have to tell you…” I prepared myself for the I’m married so don’t expect this to go anywhere speech I’d heard about from other flight attendants, and hoped he’d hurry up about it so I could nurse my hangover in peace. “I’m not looking for just a fling, I’m looking for a relationship.” He can’t be serious. I looked at him with a smirk ready to laugh but he actually was serious. “But, um….you’re married.” He told me he was “basically, for the most part” separated for now. I told him that when he was “basically, for the most part” divorced maybe we could have a different conversation but for now I really needed sleep. He stormed out, clearly not happy with my response.
I realized in that moment why the stay away from pilots rule had been put into place. I decided from then on I’d avoid tequila on layovers and make sure I wasn’t followed to my room by any cute-but-married-but-basically-for-the-most-part-separated pilots in the future.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The Flight Attendant (Part 3)
My ex-boyfriend pulled up to the airport to drop me off, got out to help me with my bags, and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. When he stepped away from me, to get back into his car, my stomach dropped to the floor as I saw who was standing just a few feet away. Staring at me, looking crestfallen and like he’d just seen a ghost, was Ben. Damn, damn, damn. Really with my luck?! I stood there for a moment, debating whether or not to run as fast as possible in the other direction, but seeing Ben’s sad face I knew I had to deal with this situation. He came up to me rattling off questions I didn’t know quite how to answer, such as: What the hell is going on? Why wasn’t I out of the country like I said I would be? Who was the man that had just dropped me off? Did I realize how confused he was and that I was breaking his heart on his birthday? Oh my God…it was his birthday! Shit, shit, shit…I completely forgot! I’m a terrible, horrible person. I could not for the life of me think of how to rectify this situation. I told him I was so sorry that I was ruining his birthday, I'd never meant to hurt him. I tried explaining why I hadn’t called, trying to help him understand it was because I needed time to sort things out. Then I told him I had to go if I was going to catch my flight back to New York but we could talk later if he wanted to. He said he couldn’t believe that he had to feel this way for the next 5 hours without being able to talk to me more about it. I tried to give him a hug, which ended up being one sided since he wouldn’t hug me back, and boarded my flight feeling horrible about hurting Ben.
When I landed in New York, Ben had already left me 2 messages sharing some of his thoughts and insecurities which had now developed, and asked me to call him as soon as I landed. I procrastinated that conversation until I was back at the crash pad sipping a double vodka on the rocks. Ben and I proceeded to talk and argue for about 2 hours straight, the end result being I thought we needed to end things, and he was heartbroken about it.
Since we worked for the same company, and obviously had a good chance of running into each other, we remained as friendly as possible under the circumstances. That is until a couple of months down the road. Ben had a layover in New York and asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink while he was there. I met up with him and made the mistake of kissing him at the end of the night. To Ben this apparently meant we were back together. I heard through a mutual friend that’s what he was telling people. Since it was clear we couldn’t be just friends, I began to avoid Ben’s calls. I’ll admit, it wasn’t the best way of handling things, but I was out of ideas and avoidance seemed like the most appealing option.
I also began to rekindle a romance with the previously mentioned ex-boyfriend, the one who was present during the accidental birthday encounter. I had a California layover and invited him to come stay with me. I happened to be flying with my good friend Vince on that trip. Somehow Ben had heard I would be there, and decided he’d show up to confront me, since I wasn’t responding to his messages. I found this out while I was laying in bed next to my on-again-ex, and out in the hallway I heard my friend Vince on his cell phone, asking someone if they knew what room I was in. I pulled a sheet around me and peeked my head out the door. Vince saw me and asked me in a whisper who I had in the room with me. I told him who was in there and asked why we were whispering. He shook his head and told me Ben was down in the lobby trying to find out what room I was in. My eyes widened in slight panic but Vince told me not to worry. Ben had been trying to get the front desk to tell him my room number to no avail, and when he’d seen Vince had looked relieved, thinking he would point him in the right direction. Ben didn’t realize Vince couldn’t stand him and that there is no amount of money that could have swayed his loyalty to me. Vince had looked at him with a smirk, and told him it would be against the rules to give out that information, which frustrated Ben even further. Vince told me if it had been anyone other than me he would’ve loved to have given out the room number, grabbed a bowl of popcorn, and pulled up a chair to watch the show. I thanked him for fighting that cruel urge and not throwing me under the bus. I went back into my room and the hotel phone started ringing relentlessly. The front desk wouldn’t give Ben my room number, but they obviously had no problem connecting him to my room over and over again. After making up some sort of lame excuse to my on-again-ex about the disruption, I unplugged the phone.
After that day, Ben finally stopped calling. I heard about him from time to time through mutual friends, mostly about him hating me, and eventually that he had left the company. I was glad that we wouldn’t be running into each other at work anymore, but was also a little sad that we couldn’t have remained friends. He was part of a huge turning point in my life, and I would be forever thankful for his assistance in helping me find my new career. But it was time to move on to bigger and better things, because as it turns out, sometimes size does matter.
When I landed in New York, Ben had already left me 2 messages sharing some of his thoughts and insecurities which had now developed, and asked me to call him as soon as I landed. I procrastinated that conversation until I was back at the crash pad sipping a double vodka on the rocks. Ben and I proceeded to talk and argue for about 2 hours straight, the end result being I thought we needed to end things, and he was heartbroken about it.
Since we worked for the same company, and obviously had a good chance of running into each other, we remained as friendly as possible under the circumstances. That is until a couple of months down the road. Ben had a layover in New York and asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink while he was there. I met up with him and made the mistake of kissing him at the end of the night. To Ben this apparently meant we were back together. I heard through a mutual friend that’s what he was telling people. Since it was clear we couldn’t be just friends, I began to avoid Ben’s calls. I’ll admit, it wasn’t the best way of handling things, but I was out of ideas and avoidance seemed like the most appealing option.
I also began to rekindle a romance with the previously mentioned ex-boyfriend, the one who was present during the accidental birthday encounter. I had a California layover and invited him to come stay with me. I happened to be flying with my good friend Vince on that trip. Somehow Ben had heard I would be there, and decided he’d show up to confront me, since I wasn’t responding to his messages. I found this out while I was laying in bed next to my on-again-ex, and out in the hallway I heard my friend Vince on his cell phone, asking someone if they knew what room I was in. I pulled a sheet around me and peeked my head out the door. Vince saw me and asked me in a whisper who I had in the room with me. I told him who was in there and asked why we were whispering. He shook his head and told me Ben was down in the lobby trying to find out what room I was in. My eyes widened in slight panic but Vince told me not to worry. Ben had been trying to get the front desk to tell him my room number to no avail, and when he’d seen Vince had looked relieved, thinking he would point him in the right direction. Ben didn’t realize Vince couldn’t stand him and that there is no amount of money that could have swayed his loyalty to me. Vince had looked at him with a smirk, and told him it would be against the rules to give out that information, which frustrated Ben even further. Vince told me if it had been anyone other than me he would’ve loved to have given out the room number, grabbed a bowl of popcorn, and pulled up a chair to watch the show. I thanked him for fighting that cruel urge and not throwing me under the bus. I went back into my room and the hotel phone started ringing relentlessly. The front desk wouldn’t give Ben my room number, but they obviously had no problem connecting him to my room over and over again. After making up some sort of lame excuse to my on-again-ex about the disruption, I unplugged the phone.
After that day, Ben finally stopped calling. I heard about him from time to time through mutual friends, mostly about him hating me, and eventually that he had left the company. I was glad that we wouldn’t be running into each other at work anymore, but was also a little sad that we couldn’t have remained friends. He was part of a huge turning point in my life, and I would be forever thankful for his assistance in helping me find my new career. But it was time to move on to bigger and better things, because as it turns out, sometimes size does matter.
The Flight Attendant (Part 2)
If I wanted the job I had to move to New York, and in time hope that a slot opened up in the California base. I decided, what the hell, and accepted the offer. I put my belongings into storage and left Arizona. I wasn’t sure where I was going to reside yet, but since they were putting us up in hotels during training, I had a month to figure it out.
I spent a little time in California with my family and friends before I headed off to training, and I also spent time with Ben. We had been talking almost every day. He definitely had more of a romantic interest in me than I did with him but he seemed o.k. with just being friends. I expressed to him that I’d semi-recently gotten out of a far too dramatic relationship so I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I only wanted a friendship, nothing more. He told me he understood completely and said he was totally o.k. with that. Then we slept together…so there went that plan.
It happened one night while we were hanging out at Ben’s apartment drinking way too many cocktails, (which is always a bad idea by the way, ) and somehow we ended up in his bed naked. Aside from the fact I’d just broken my “we can only be friends” rule, there was now a new problem. There was a bit of a size issue. I’d always been a believer in “size doesn’t matter”…..that is until I slept with Ben. Without getting too graphic I’ll just say this: if you are unaware that you’re having sex until a few minutes into the act, that is a huge problem. I tried my best to pretend I didn’t notice, but I’m not very good at hiding my expressions, so there is a fair chance he knew exactly what I thought. I did continue to date him despite this setback. I had become attached to our friendship so I overlooked his tiny problem for the moment.
We didn’t see each other very often for the next month when I went off to training, but he became my flight attendant mentor, so we talked on the phone constantly and he answered every question I could come up with. He was exactly what I needed at that time, which was a friend I could trust and count on to be there for me. Looking back it was probably selfish on my part, since I knew he was falling for me, and I also knew that I didn’t feel exactly the same way. I still constantly told him that we were just friends, that I didn’t want a boyfriend, and he still pretended to be o.k. with that. I’m pretty sure he thought I would come around eventually on that topic, and since I wasn’t dating anyone else and called him several times a day, he didn’t take my words too seriously.
After months of trying to pretend we were just friends, I finally gave in a little, and stopped objecting when he called me his girlfriend. I even began referring to him as my boyfriend and eventually, when he said he loved me, I surprised myself by saying it back. I did love him, but more in the way that you love your favorite blanket. I felt safe with Ben. Safe in that I knew he wouldn’t break my heart and that he was always there for me. He knew exactly how to calm me down in any stressful situation and I appreciated how simple and uncomplicated our relationship was.
Towards the end of my month long flight attendant training class I started getting frustrated with Ben. Frustrated with the fact that I was now living on the opposite side of the country from him and frustrated with the realization that this wasn’t the guy for me and I knew it while he didn’t. Since I was hoping a slot would open up and allow me to transfer to the California base, I didn’t have a permanent home just yet, so I was temporarily living in what’s called a “crash pad.” I shared a room with 6 other flight attendants so this didn’t help my frustrated mood much. We started fighting more often and I told him I needed some space and time to figure things out. I planned a trip to Europe with a friend and told Ben I really needed to think about everything while away. He told me he supported whatever I felt I needed and we agreed to talk next when I got back in a few weeks.
Two days before my friend and I were supposed to leave she had a family emergency and we had to postpone our trip. I debated what to do next, whether or not I should tell Ben I hadn’t left the country after all. I ultimately decided against it. I figured we’d already said our goodbyes, I told him I needed time to think, so it was best to just take the time for myself. I decided to fly to California and visit family and friends. At the end of my California trip I ran into an old boyfriend and we spent a couple of days catching up. Nothing romantic, just catching up as friends, so I saw no harm in it. When I had to get back to New York, he offered me a ride to the airport. While I didn’t think it was wrong to let Ben assume I was out of the country, even though I didn’t go, I definitely didn’t want to run into him either. He didn’t usually work weekends so I figured the chances of running into him at the airport were slim to none. Of course I had forgotten that even the most impossible scenarios always seem to find me. What happened that day, I’m pretty certain, would only happen to me.......Stay tuned for The Flight Attendant finale
I spent a little time in California with my family and friends before I headed off to training, and I also spent time with Ben. We had been talking almost every day. He definitely had more of a romantic interest in me than I did with him but he seemed o.k. with just being friends. I expressed to him that I’d semi-recently gotten out of a far too dramatic relationship so I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I only wanted a friendship, nothing more. He told me he understood completely and said he was totally o.k. with that. Then we slept together…so there went that plan.
It happened one night while we were hanging out at Ben’s apartment drinking way too many cocktails, (which is always a bad idea by the way, ) and somehow we ended up in his bed naked. Aside from the fact I’d just broken my “we can only be friends” rule, there was now a new problem. There was a bit of a size issue. I’d always been a believer in “size doesn’t matter”…..that is until I slept with Ben. Without getting too graphic I’ll just say this: if you are unaware that you’re having sex until a few minutes into the act, that is a huge problem. I tried my best to pretend I didn’t notice, but I’m not very good at hiding my expressions, so there is a fair chance he knew exactly what I thought. I did continue to date him despite this setback. I had become attached to our friendship so I overlooked his tiny problem for the moment.
We didn’t see each other very often for the next month when I went off to training, but he became my flight attendant mentor, so we talked on the phone constantly and he answered every question I could come up with. He was exactly what I needed at that time, which was a friend I could trust and count on to be there for me. Looking back it was probably selfish on my part, since I knew he was falling for me, and I also knew that I didn’t feel exactly the same way. I still constantly told him that we were just friends, that I didn’t want a boyfriend, and he still pretended to be o.k. with that. I’m pretty sure he thought I would come around eventually on that topic, and since I wasn’t dating anyone else and called him several times a day, he didn’t take my words too seriously.
After months of trying to pretend we were just friends, I finally gave in a little, and stopped objecting when he called me his girlfriend. I even began referring to him as my boyfriend and eventually, when he said he loved me, I surprised myself by saying it back. I did love him, but more in the way that you love your favorite blanket. I felt safe with Ben. Safe in that I knew he wouldn’t break my heart and that he was always there for me. He knew exactly how to calm me down in any stressful situation and I appreciated how simple and uncomplicated our relationship was.
Towards the end of my month long flight attendant training class I started getting frustrated with Ben. Frustrated with the fact that I was now living on the opposite side of the country from him and frustrated with the realization that this wasn’t the guy for me and I knew it while he didn’t. Since I was hoping a slot would open up and allow me to transfer to the California base, I didn’t have a permanent home just yet, so I was temporarily living in what’s called a “crash pad.” I shared a room with 6 other flight attendants so this didn’t help my frustrated mood much. We started fighting more often and I told him I needed some space and time to figure things out. I planned a trip to Europe with a friend and told Ben I really needed to think about everything while away. He told me he supported whatever I felt I needed and we agreed to talk next when I got back in a few weeks.
Two days before my friend and I were supposed to leave she had a family emergency and we had to postpone our trip. I debated what to do next, whether or not I should tell Ben I hadn’t left the country after all. I ultimately decided against it. I figured we’d already said our goodbyes, I told him I needed time to think, so it was best to just take the time for myself. I decided to fly to California and visit family and friends. At the end of my California trip I ran into an old boyfriend and we spent a couple of days catching up. Nothing romantic, just catching up as friends, so I saw no harm in it. When I had to get back to New York, he offered me a ride to the airport. While I didn’t think it was wrong to let Ben assume I was out of the country, even though I didn’t go, I definitely didn’t want to run into him either. He didn’t usually work weekends so I figured the chances of running into him at the airport were slim to none. Of course I had forgotten that even the most impossible scenarios always seem to find me. What happened that day, I’m pretty certain, would only happen to me.......Stay tuned for The Flight Attendant finale
The Flight Attendant (Part 1)
I had an old friend who’d recently moved to New York and started working as a gate agent for an airline. She invited me to New York for a visit, and gave me a free flight pass. On that flight I watched the flight attendants and started daydreaming about what their job would be like. I’d always thought flying for a living would be a fun occupation. Even as a little girl I’d loved flying, watching the tiny world below from 35,000 feet in the sky, feeling the thrill of going somewhere new and exciting.
One of the flight attendants, whose name was Ben, looked very familiar to me. I asked him at one point if we knew each other from somewhere, and he said he didn’t think so. He lived in L.A. so we thought we might have a mutual friend, but in the end couldn’t make a match. We did, however, spend the rest of the long flight chatting. I had a ton of questions about being a flight attendant and he was very helpful with information. The more I discovered about his job, the more I thought this was something I should pursue. I was definitely seeking a change for my life and this seemed right up my alley. I began to sense his agenda was a bit different from mine when he started making flirtatious comments. I didn’t think he was terrible looking, but he definitely wasn’t my type. He was on the shorter, scrawnier side, and even though I was considering becoming a flight attendant, I didn’t actually want to date one. By the end of the flight, I’d decided it would be in my best interest to keep in touch with Ben, in hopes he’d put in a good word for me with his superiors. I gave him my number and told him to give me a call.
Ben did call and, since I wasn’t living in L.A. anymore, we got to know each other via telephone. During this time period his airline called about the resume I’d submitted. They wanted to fly me out to New York for an interview. It appeared they wanted to test the applicants on their ability to function with little sleep and jet lag, since they had me scheduled to fly out on a overnight red eye, then heading straight from the flight to the all day interview. Someone suggested I take 2 Tylenol p.m. at the beginning of the flight. They said it would help me sleep so I’d have energy when I got in. The night of the flight I followed that advice and I’m not sure if it was because I’d taken it on an empty stomach, or if I had some sort of allergic reaction, but I ended up in the lavatory most of the flight vomiting and cursing the friend who suggested the medication. By the time we landed in New York I was exhausted and feeling like death. I was trying desperately to find the energy necessary to plaster on an all-day-long smile and show my flight attendant enthusiasm. I pulled myself together as best I could, drank about 7 cups of coffee and as many saltine crackers as I could stomach (about 2), then headed to the interview. I don’t remember many interview details but I must have done something right because, about a week later, I got the call congratulating me on my new occupation. They wanted me to start training in a month, and they would be placing me in the New York base. Umm…live in New York? That wasn’t part of my master plan…....To be continued
One of the flight attendants, whose name was Ben, looked very familiar to me. I asked him at one point if we knew each other from somewhere, and he said he didn’t think so. He lived in L.A. so we thought we might have a mutual friend, but in the end couldn’t make a match. We did, however, spend the rest of the long flight chatting. I had a ton of questions about being a flight attendant and he was very helpful with information. The more I discovered about his job, the more I thought this was something I should pursue. I was definitely seeking a change for my life and this seemed right up my alley. I began to sense his agenda was a bit different from mine when he started making flirtatious comments. I didn’t think he was terrible looking, but he definitely wasn’t my type. He was on the shorter, scrawnier side, and even though I was considering becoming a flight attendant, I didn’t actually want to date one. By the end of the flight, I’d decided it would be in my best interest to keep in touch with Ben, in hopes he’d put in a good word for me with his superiors. I gave him my number and told him to give me a call.
Ben did call and, since I wasn’t living in L.A. anymore, we got to know each other via telephone. During this time period his airline called about the resume I’d submitted. They wanted to fly me out to New York for an interview. It appeared they wanted to test the applicants on their ability to function with little sleep and jet lag, since they had me scheduled to fly out on a overnight red eye, then heading straight from the flight to the all day interview. Someone suggested I take 2 Tylenol p.m. at the beginning of the flight. They said it would help me sleep so I’d have energy when I got in. The night of the flight I followed that advice and I’m not sure if it was because I’d taken it on an empty stomach, or if I had some sort of allergic reaction, but I ended up in the lavatory most of the flight vomiting and cursing the friend who suggested the medication. By the time we landed in New York I was exhausted and feeling like death. I was trying desperately to find the energy necessary to plaster on an all-day-long smile and show my flight attendant enthusiasm. I pulled myself together as best I could, drank about 7 cups of coffee and as many saltine crackers as I could stomach (about 2), then headed to the interview. I don’t remember many interview details but I must have done something right because, about a week later, I got the call congratulating me on my new occupation. They wanted me to start training in a month, and they would be placing me in the New York base. Umm…live in New York? That wasn’t part of my master plan…....To be continued
Thursday, August 26, 2010
The Brit
During the 3 months I spent living in Arizona, (yes, I only lasted 3 months…do you know how hot it gets there?!) my best friends Gavin and Raven used to come out almost every other weekend to visit. Partly because they missed me, and partly because I now had an apartment which made every day seem like a vacation at a nice resort. The rent in Arizona was ridiculously cheap, so I was able to afford an amazing place that almost had me believing I was extremely wealthy. We’d spend those weekends by the pool during the day, and out dancing and mingling with cocktails in hand by night.
One of those nights we were out dancing at a popular place in Scottsdale, only it wasn’t a club and there wasn’t really a dance floor. After our 3rd martini, we decided it was our responsibility to all tipsy people, ourselves included, to create a dance floor. So we did. Not only did we create a dance floor, but Raven and I must have also thought we were filming a music video since we created an entire dance routine and eventually we had an audience. At the time we thought it was because we were so hot and doing so well with our dancing, looking back I’m pretty certain everyone was just making fun of the drunk girls. Gavin was amongst the spectators, and enjoyed watching us make fools of ourselves while taking many pictures to use later for blackmailing purposes. During our dance routine I noticed a very cute boy standing off to the side watching me and smiling. I smiled at him and pulled him onto the “dance floor” with me. He seemed flattered and he was a good sport about dancing with me. When the song was over he asked if he could buy me a drink so we went over to the bar. It was when we started talking by the bar that I detected his British accent. His name was Sean…from England. That’s how he introduced himself, “I’m Sean, from England!” “Well, hello “Shon from In-glend!” I’d said, trying to use my best British accent while repeating his catch phrase. He seemed to think it was adorable. It was most likely not at all adorable and actually quite obnoxious, but he was seemingly smitten so it apparently didn’t matter what I said. I told him he looked exactly like Hugh Grant. He didn’t look anything like Hugh Grant, but with drunk goggles on, all I could make out clearly was the accent. He also had a very high pitched voice for a man which I overlooked at the time. We chatted for the rest of the evening until finally Gavin and Raven were ready to leave. I told them I didn’t want to leave, that I wanted to stay with “Shon from In-glend!” They did not seem nearly as amused as Sean had by my attempt at a British accent. They pulled me aside and asked if I’d be alright with this guy if they left me, I told them I’d be fine and to take my key. They made sure they got Sean’s phone # and then left.
After the bar closed we decided to walk off the alcohol. We walked and talked for what must have been hours. I can’t be sure of exactly what we discussed, I just know that we did quite a bit of comparing words that we said differently, for example trash can. He called it a litter bin. He talked about us being “pissed”, and I thought he meant angry but he meant drunk. These comparisons were so cute and funny to us then, so on our meaningless conversation went. At one point we ended up at a park where we proceeded to make out on a park bench until I noticed the sun coming up and told him I really needed to get home. He asked if he could take me out that day for lunch because he was leaving that evening to go back to England and just had see me once more. I told him he could come by later after I’d slept for a while.
When I woke up I’d almost forgotten about “Shon from In-glend,” due to the attention I had to put on my massive headache and hangover, until there was a knock at my door. It was Sean, standing there with the biggest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen. Wow. He handed them to me with a boyish grin on his face. He told me he knew I must get flowers every day but he wanted to bring me some anyway. (Umm…sure…every single day….had he ever met an American man?) I told him I’d woken up late but would meet him in just a little while after I got ready. We spent some sober time together before he left and, while he was still fairly cute, without the alcohol I found we didn’t have a whole lot to talk about. There’s only so many times I can discuss how adorable it is that I say trash and he says rubbish, so I was slightly relieved to say goodbye to Sean. After our goodbye kiss, he said he wouldn’t wash his lips so that my kiss would always stay with him. Was this guy for real?
A couple of days later, I got a call from Sean. When I answered he said, “Parker! It’s ‘Shon from In-glend!’, calling you from England!” and he chuckled. I tried not to gag. We talked for a few minutes, and I couldn’t believe he was paying international fees to make more jokes about litter bins and rubbish. Does this guy have anything else to talk about? He did have more to talk about. He told me he was now unable to walk by a park bench without thinking of me. He sighed and told me he hadn’t been able to eat anything but half a biscuit since he left, he couldn’t sleep either, all he could do was think about me. Can we go back to talking about litter bins please? I told Sean he should really eat something, that it wasn't healthy not to, and that I had to run but thanks so much for calling all the way from England. He sighed and said I’d be in his dreams. Groan. I said my goodbyes and told him we’d talk soon. I didn’t really mean that, but he took it literally and called the next night. This continued for a while until finally he asked if he could come back out and visit me. I had to come up with something quick for this not to happen. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand days on end of “Shon from In-glend” and his lack of conversational skills. The charm of the accent had begun to wear off and, while the flowers were nice, this whole “I can’t eat, sleep or wash my lips” thing was a bit much. I told him the first thing that came to mind. That I had a boyfriend. I’d met someone after he left and it was getting very serious. Since my serious boyfriend lived in America, I felt it important for me to pursue this relationship. He asked what his name was. I named my fake boyfriend Matthew. He got very quiet, then asked me if he had been “Shon from America” instead of “Shon from In-glend”, if things would be different. I sighed internally, then lied and told him yes, things would be much different. I told him I had to go, Matthew would be waiting, but to take care of himself.
A couple of days later I got another call from Sean saying he wanted to talk to me about something very important. I braced myself. He said he’d been thinking a lot, (that was his first mistake), and he wanted to come live in the states for a while, to really give things a go with us. He said he didn’t have anything tying him down in England and he couldn’t bear the thought of always wondering what could have been if he’d only tried harder. After one drunken night in a park? Really?! I told Sean that, while I was flattered, I really couldn’t do that to Matthew. It just wouldn’t be fair or right. I hoped my fake boyfriend appreciated what I was giving up for our relationship. Sean said that he understood, even though it made his heart feel sad and lonesome, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat for a bit. I wished he would stop saying things of that nature.
Sean stopped calling for the most part after that, wanting to be respectful of my “relationship”, however he did call me on my birthday, which I thought was so sweet of him to even remember. And to this day “Shon from In-glend” still sends an email to me on every single birthday. He may not have been the guy for me, but I have to hand it to him for always being a true gentleman. If only he’d been a little less of a girl, his voice had been lower, he actually had looked like Hugh Grant, and he learned how to have a real conversation, we could have really had something there.
One of those nights we were out dancing at a popular place in Scottsdale, only it wasn’t a club and there wasn’t really a dance floor. After our 3rd martini, we decided it was our responsibility to all tipsy people, ourselves included, to create a dance floor. So we did. Not only did we create a dance floor, but Raven and I must have also thought we were filming a music video since we created an entire dance routine and eventually we had an audience. At the time we thought it was because we were so hot and doing so well with our dancing, looking back I’m pretty certain everyone was just making fun of the drunk girls. Gavin was amongst the spectators, and enjoyed watching us make fools of ourselves while taking many pictures to use later for blackmailing purposes. During our dance routine I noticed a very cute boy standing off to the side watching me and smiling. I smiled at him and pulled him onto the “dance floor” with me. He seemed flattered and he was a good sport about dancing with me. When the song was over he asked if he could buy me a drink so we went over to the bar. It was when we started talking by the bar that I detected his British accent. His name was Sean…from England. That’s how he introduced himself, “I’m Sean, from England!” “Well, hello “Shon from In-glend!” I’d said, trying to use my best British accent while repeating his catch phrase. He seemed to think it was adorable. It was most likely not at all adorable and actually quite obnoxious, but he was seemingly smitten so it apparently didn’t matter what I said. I told him he looked exactly like Hugh Grant. He didn’t look anything like Hugh Grant, but with drunk goggles on, all I could make out clearly was the accent. He also had a very high pitched voice for a man which I overlooked at the time. We chatted for the rest of the evening until finally Gavin and Raven were ready to leave. I told them I didn’t want to leave, that I wanted to stay with “Shon from In-glend!” They did not seem nearly as amused as Sean had by my attempt at a British accent. They pulled me aside and asked if I’d be alright with this guy if they left me, I told them I’d be fine and to take my key. They made sure they got Sean’s phone # and then left.
After the bar closed we decided to walk off the alcohol. We walked and talked for what must have been hours. I can’t be sure of exactly what we discussed, I just know that we did quite a bit of comparing words that we said differently, for example trash can. He called it a litter bin. He talked about us being “pissed”, and I thought he meant angry but he meant drunk. These comparisons were so cute and funny to us then, so on our meaningless conversation went. At one point we ended up at a park where we proceeded to make out on a park bench until I noticed the sun coming up and told him I really needed to get home. He asked if he could take me out that day for lunch because he was leaving that evening to go back to England and just had see me once more. I told him he could come by later after I’d slept for a while.
When I woke up I’d almost forgotten about “Shon from In-glend,” due to the attention I had to put on my massive headache and hangover, until there was a knock at my door. It was Sean, standing there with the biggest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen. Wow. He handed them to me with a boyish grin on his face. He told me he knew I must get flowers every day but he wanted to bring me some anyway. (Umm…sure…every single day….had he ever met an American man?) I told him I’d woken up late but would meet him in just a little while after I got ready. We spent some sober time together before he left and, while he was still fairly cute, without the alcohol I found we didn’t have a whole lot to talk about. There’s only so many times I can discuss how adorable it is that I say trash and he says rubbish, so I was slightly relieved to say goodbye to Sean. After our goodbye kiss, he said he wouldn’t wash his lips so that my kiss would always stay with him. Was this guy for real?
A couple of days later, I got a call from Sean. When I answered he said, “Parker! It’s ‘Shon from In-glend!’, calling you from England!” and he chuckled. I tried not to gag. We talked for a few minutes, and I couldn’t believe he was paying international fees to make more jokes about litter bins and rubbish. Does this guy have anything else to talk about? He did have more to talk about. He told me he was now unable to walk by a park bench without thinking of me. He sighed and told me he hadn’t been able to eat anything but half a biscuit since he left, he couldn’t sleep either, all he could do was think about me. Can we go back to talking about litter bins please? I told Sean he should really eat something, that it wasn't healthy not to, and that I had to run but thanks so much for calling all the way from England. He sighed and said I’d be in his dreams. Groan. I said my goodbyes and told him we’d talk soon. I didn’t really mean that, but he took it literally and called the next night. This continued for a while until finally he asked if he could come back out and visit me. I had to come up with something quick for this not to happen. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand days on end of “Shon from In-glend” and his lack of conversational skills. The charm of the accent had begun to wear off and, while the flowers were nice, this whole “I can’t eat, sleep or wash my lips” thing was a bit much. I told him the first thing that came to mind. That I had a boyfriend. I’d met someone after he left and it was getting very serious. Since my serious boyfriend lived in America, I felt it important for me to pursue this relationship. He asked what his name was. I named my fake boyfriend Matthew. He got very quiet, then asked me if he had been “Shon from America” instead of “Shon from In-glend”, if things would be different. I sighed internally, then lied and told him yes, things would be much different. I told him I had to go, Matthew would be waiting, but to take care of himself.
A couple of days later I got another call from Sean saying he wanted to talk to me about something very important. I braced myself. He said he’d been thinking a lot, (that was his first mistake), and he wanted to come live in the states for a while, to really give things a go with us. He said he didn’t have anything tying him down in England and he couldn’t bear the thought of always wondering what could have been if he’d only tried harder. After one drunken night in a park? Really?! I told Sean that, while I was flattered, I really couldn’t do that to Matthew. It just wouldn’t be fair or right. I hoped my fake boyfriend appreciated what I was giving up for our relationship. Sean said that he understood, even though it made his heart feel sad and lonesome, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat for a bit. I wished he would stop saying things of that nature.
Sean stopped calling for the most part after that, wanting to be respectful of my “relationship”, however he did call me on my birthday, which I thought was so sweet of him to even remember. And to this day “Shon from In-glend” still sends an email to me on every single birthday. He may not have been the guy for me, but I have to hand it to him for always being a true gentleman. If only he’d been a little less of a girl, his voice had been lower, he actually had looked like Hugh Grant, and he learned how to have a real conversation, we could have really had something there.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The Snoop
I was invited to my at-the-time agent’s Christmas party, and wasn’t going to attend since I usually hate those industry parties full of all-about-me actors. The day of the party my friend Raven heard about it and insisted I go and take her as my date. With a sigh I agreed. After being at the party for about 10 minutes I was bored and ready to leave. I had left Raven to say my obligatory hello to my agent, and when I scanned the crowd to find her, I saw she was being hit on by a cute blonde boy. I went over and after she introduced us I told her I was ready to go when she was. To blonde guy’s left I saw his friend standing there staring at me with a big smile on his face. He introduced himself and shook my hand.
His name was Alex. He was an actor who was also represented by my agent. He was very cute, but I was in no mood to chat and was very ready to exchange this party for my couch and a movie. He wasn’t giving up so easily though. He asked me all about myself, and I had no choice, since Raven seemed perfectly content chatting away with his friend and oblivious to my rescue stares, but to carry on a conversation with him. He asked if I’d like a drink and I figured it might help my mood so I said I’d love one. We sipped our vodka tonics and after a while I started really warming up to Alex. At one point he got pulled away for an introduction to some producer, and after he was gone for at least 10 minutes, I decided it was time to leave this party. Raven and I were heading out the door when he grabbed my arm and said, “Wait! Where are you going?” I opened my mouth to say home, but Raven blurted out that we were going to a nearby bar for a change of scenery and that he should join us there later. I gave her a dirty look and he smiled at her then asked for my number. I gave it to him and he said he’d love to meet up later on.
We left and Raven started talking about how cute he was, while I pointed out that he was still an actor, which I don’t usually date since they have a tendency to be egotistical narcissists. We went to the bar and I tried to hide the fact that I was secretly hoping he’d show up. When closing time rolled around with no Alex, I told Raven I was heading home. On my way home, as I tried telling myself I wasn’t disappointed he hadn't shown up, Alex called. I answered with a big smile on my face and we talked for about an hour. He told me he was so sorry he couldn’t join us, but our agent had him running around a bit for her, and he couldn’t get out of there as quickly as he’d hoped. At the end of our conversation he asked if he could take me to dinner and I said of course.
The next evening he picked me up and took me to an amazing steakhouse where we drank martinis, had a delicious dinner, and some of the best conversation I’d ever had. By the time he dropped me off and we'd had our first kiss, we were both obviously smitten.
For our next date he wanted to make me dinner, and when I showed up at his place he answered the door with a huge bouquet of flowers and made a fantastic meal. He was scoring big points. As I was looking around his apartment later on, I saw a picture of him dressed in a tux which appeared to be taken at a wedding. I asked whose wedding it was and he said it was his. Umm...Red flag. Your wedding?! After I gave him what must have been a horrendous look, he quickly explained that he was divorced, and proceeded to tell me about her having an affair, and the other reasons the relationship hadn’t worked. I was disappointed he'd been previously married but relieved that he wasn't still. By the end of the evening we had both decided we wanted to take it slow as far as sleeping together since we wanted it to be special and really get to know each other first.
We spent the next month becoming the best of friends (the kind of friends that make out a lot). We were inseparable and having the time of our lives. By the time we finally did have sex, it was the best of my life. We were falling in love but I was definitely not going to be the one to say it first. That is until the night someone drugged my drink.
We were out with our friends and at one point I left my drink unattended. The next thing I knew I woke up in the morning next to Alex. I had a massive headache and remembered nothing, but had only had 2 beers. Apparently I went from fine to falling over within the hour. At the time Alex was confused and took me home, carried me up the stairs, and at the door I looked at him and said “Alex, I love you sooo much”, right before I passed out completely. When he told me the story I had a look of horror on my face and told him I hadn’t planned on saying that. At least not before he had and preferably not under the influence of drugs. He told me he’d said it back which helped a little. After some detective work we realized someone must have slipped something in my drink due to all of my odd symptoms.
Our relationship continued to grow stronger and I thought, Finally! This is the normal, healthy, loving relationship I’ve been waiting for! And then Alex’s demons started to reveal themselves.
The first occurrence happened one day when I had to go to work early and Alex had spent the night. I didn’t want him to have to wake up early, so I told him to sleep in and lock the door on his way out. Later that evening when he came over, he seemed really upset. I asked what was bothering him and he told me that he’d seen a Valentine’s Day present on my dresser, (an early present from my Mom, she gives me one every year and makes me wait until the holiday to open it) he told me he’d seen the card which had “From your biggest fan!” written on it, (my Mom is my biggest fan), that he’d opened the bag and seen a picture of me and “some guy” in it, (my brother Kyle and I which my Mom had framed), and after he told me all this he waited for my response, clearly thinking his snooping would be overlooked since he’d caught me red handed. I looked at him and told him he was about to feel like the biggest jack ass on the planet, and proceeded to tell him the truth about what he’d found. He looked down sheepishly and began to apologize profusely. He said he apparently still had some trust issues. Gee, you think? I expressed how disappointed I was. I told him I didn’t do well with the jealousy, invasion of privacy thing, and that if our relationship was going to work it couldn’t happen again. He said it wouldn’t, apologized again, and I dropped it. But then it did happen again.
We had just gotten back from a weekend getaway and I hadn’t unpacked my bag yet. The following weekend I stayed at Raven’s house for a couple of days, and the day after I got back from her house, Alex spent the night. I left him in my apartment while I went to work and that night he came over upset. He told me he’d looked through my overnight bag and wondered why, if I’d only been at Raven’s, I had packed sexy lingerie. I told him he was an idiot, that was the bag from our trip I hadn’t unpacked yet, and that I was through with his shady snooping. He again apologized and we dropped it but as more things of this nature continued, it began damaging our relationship. We began fighting quite a bit.
Then came the fateful day when our relationship really fell apart, and also the day I realized tequila and I could never be friends. I was in a play and had developed what I thought was a harmless crush on the director. It was closing night and Alex came to the show with a buddy of his. I asked him to stay after the show for the cast party. It was being held at the theater since it had a bar built in. He said he was going to a party instead with his buddy. I was pissed. This was a last straw kind of moment for me, and what I should have done was to tell Alex we needed a break. Since I apparently wanted to make things more complicated for myself, this is what happened instead. Alex left after the show and the cast and crew started drinking shots of tequila. Most of the cast started to leave until there were only 4 of us left, including myself and the director. Alex called and I told him I’d be leaving shortly and that I’d come over when I was done. The next thing I know the shots of tequila took over and I woke up lying on the couch next to the passed out director. I heard pounding on the theater door. Uh oh. More knocking as I tried to clear my head and remember what had happened and how I’d ended up on this couch. I began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I had flashbacks of the only scattered moments I could recall from the evening. Shit, I made out with my director. I knew it was Alex pounding on the door and I panicked as I tried to think of what to tell him. The truth seemed way too frightening, but the only lie I could think of was: Alex, I am actually at home in bed right now. This isn’t really happening, you’re just having a nightmare. I didn’t think he’d buy it. I woke up my director and told him he had to hide, my boyfriend was at the door and it would be in his best interest to not be present when I opened it. I opened the door to a furious and worried looking Alex. He asked what the hell had happened, why I hadn’t come home. I told him I passed out, I’d had too much to drink, I apologized. He looked around and asked if someone was there, if something had happened. I told him nothing had happened, I just fell asleep on the couch, and asked him to just please take me home. He didn’t look convinced but finally agreed and we left. The next day I realized that, due to the fact I’d made out with my director then lied about it, I should break up with Alex, at least for now until I could clear my head. I told him I thought we should take a break for a while. He didn’t want the break but reluctantly agreed.
During this break I missed Alex, but felt that we would get back together when we both gained some perspective and could start fresh. What I didn’t realize was that one of the 4 people who had been at the cast party was friends with Alex’s roommate, and she had seen me making out with the director. Small world. I was caught in a lie but didn’t yet know it. I knew something wasn’t right when Alex wouldn't return any of my calls. I finally went to his house and when he saw it was me at the door he wouldn’t even speak to me. He closed the door in my face. I pushed it open and refused to leave until he told me what was going on. It wasn’t fun to hear that he knew I’d lied and cheated.
I called a couple of days later and apologized profusely, and asked if we could try again. He actually agreed to give it another try, however he never let go of what had happened. I finally told him that he either had to let the past go, or let me go, because otherwise this wasn’t going to work. What he did, instead of letting it go, was cheat on me. He had sex with a girl he worked with. The last thing I’d ever expected from Alex was cheating. When he told me what had happened I felt devastated. At this point the obvious and best choice would’ve been to put an end to this clearly damaged relationship full of mistakes, but instead I decided to give him another chance. I figured, in my screwed up logic, that now we were even. That maybe since we had both messed up we could start fresh and move forward. Of course I was wrong.
Our relationship continued to get even worse. Now neither of us had a solid foundation of trust, and Alex continued to blame me not only for my mistake but for his mistake as well. Anytime a fight would come up, he’d throw what I did in my face. When I’d point out that he’d also cheated and on an even bigger scale, his defense would be that he would never have cheated if I hadn’t done it to him first. I couldn’t win. So I decided for the both of us that we needed to break up. We remained “friends” and did that thing couples sometimes do, where they still see each other from time to time after breaking up, pretending it’s a normal, healthy thing to do. Then I started seeing someone else I’d recently met and started distancing myself from Alex, and Alex became a bit of a psycho stalker.
Gavin was over one day and we thought we heard something outside on the lawn. We peeked out through the curtains and saw Alex standing behind a tree in my front yard trying to look in through my window. When he saw the curtains move he ran away. I found out that he had a neighbor who worked as a private investigator and Alex actually hired him to follow me. When I stayed overnight at the new guy’s house I came out to find a note on my car that said: I hope this guy is worth it since he’s destroying our relationship. He obviously forgot that we had broken up. He had somehow gotten new guy’s phone # and left him a voice mail, warning him about all of the things that were wrong with me and told him to be careful if he was planning on dating me. How thoughtful of him to be so concerned about new guy. I decided it was time to cut all ties with Alex. We had really destroyed something that seemed so amazing initially. It seemed like such a shame, but I guess that’s life for you. Live and learn, and that’s what I decided to do. I moved on, literally. I up and moved to Arizona where my sister lived. I decided I needed a change of scenery and to flee the scene of the crime seemed like the best way to get it. As angry as I was with all of his actions, I still cared about Alex. I hoped in time that we could be friends again one day but that was wishful thinking. I realized the past belongs in the past and in order for a new door to open, you have to close the one behind you first. So that’s what I did. I closed the door on a great love and looked forward to seeing what I had in store for me behind the doors of the future.
His name was Alex. He was an actor who was also represented by my agent. He was very cute, but I was in no mood to chat and was very ready to exchange this party for my couch and a movie. He wasn’t giving up so easily though. He asked me all about myself, and I had no choice, since Raven seemed perfectly content chatting away with his friend and oblivious to my rescue stares, but to carry on a conversation with him. He asked if I’d like a drink and I figured it might help my mood so I said I’d love one. We sipped our vodka tonics and after a while I started really warming up to Alex. At one point he got pulled away for an introduction to some producer, and after he was gone for at least 10 minutes, I decided it was time to leave this party. Raven and I were heading out the door when he grabbed my arm and said, “Wait! Where are you going?” I opened my mouth to say home, but Raven blurted out that we were going to a nearby bar for a change of scenery and that he should join us there later. I gave her a dirty look and he smiled at her then asked for my number. I gave it to him and he said he’d love to meet up later on.
We left and Raven started talking about how cute he was, while I pointed out that he was still an actor, which I don’t usually date since they have a tendency to be egotistical narcissists. We went to the bar and I tried to hide the fact that I was secretly hoping he’d show up. When closing time rolled around with no Alex, I told Raven I was heading home. On my way home, as I tried telling myself I wasn’t disappointed he hadn't shown up, Alex called. I answered with a big smile on my face and we talked for about an hour. He told me he was so sorry he couldn’t join us, but our agent had him running around a bit for her, and he couldn’t get out of there as quickly as he’d hoped. At the end of our conversation he asked if he could take me to dinner and I said of course.
The next evening he picked me up and took me to an amazing steakhouse where we drank martinis, had a delicious dinner, and some of the best conversation I’d ever had. By the time he dropped me off and we'd had our first kiss, we were both obviously smitten.
For our next date he wanted to make me dinner, and when I showed up at his place he answered the door with a huge bouquet of flowers and made a fantastic meal. He was scoring big points. As I was looking around his apartment later on, I saw a picture of him dressed in a tux which appeared to be taken at a wedding. I asked whose wedding it was and he said it was his. Umm...Red flag. Your wedding?! After I gave him what must have been a horrendous look, he quickly explained that he was divorced, and proceeded to tell me about her having an affair, and the other reasons the relationship hadn’t worked. I was disappointed he'd been previously married but relieved that he wasn't still. By the end of the evening we had both decided we wanted to take it slow as far as sleeping together since we wanted it to be special and really get to know each other first.
We spent the next month becoming the best of friends (the kind of friends that make out a lot). We were inseparable and having the time of our lives. By the time we finally did have sex, it was the best of my life. We were falling in love but I was definitely not going to be the one to say it first. That is until the night someone drugged my drink.
We were out with our friends and at one point I left my drink unattended. The next thing I knew I woke up in the morning next to Alex. I had a massive headache and remembered nothing, but had only had 2 beers. Apparently I went from fine to falling over within the hour. At the time Alex was confused and took me home, carried me up the stairs, and at the door I looked at him and said “Alex, I love you sooo much”, right before I passed out completely. When he told me the story I had a look of horror on my face and told him I hadn’t planned on saying that. At least not before he had and preferably not under the influence of drugs. He told me he’d said it back which helped a little. After some detective work we realized someone must have slipped something in my drink due to all of my odd symptoms.
Our relationship continued to grow stronger and I thought, Finally! This is the normal, healthy, loving relationship I’ve been waiting for! And then Alex’s demons started to reveal themselves.
The first occurrence happened one day when I had to go to work early and Alex had spent the night. I didn’t want him to have to wake up early, so I told him to sleep in and lock the door on his way out. Later that evening when he came over, he seemed really upset. I asked what was bothering him and he told me that he’d seen a Valentine’s Day present on my dresser, (an early present from my Mom, she gives me one every year and makes me wait until the holiday to open it) he told me he’d seen the card which had “From your biggest fan!” written on it, (my Mom is my biggest fan), that he’d opened the bag and seen a picture of me and “some guy” in it, (my brother Kyle and I which my Mom had framed), and after he told me all this he waited for my response, clearly thinking his snooping would be overlooked since he’d caught me red handed. I looked at him and told him he was about to feel like the biggest jack ass on the planet, and proceeded to tell him the truth about what he’d found. He looked down sheepishly and began to apologize profusely. He said he apparently still had some trust issues. Gee, you think? I expressed how disappointed I was. I told him I didn’t do well with the jealousy, invasion of privacy thing, and that if our relationship was going to work it couldn’t happen again. He said it wouldn’t, apologized again, and I dropped it. But then it did happen again.
We had just gotten back from a weekend getaway and I hadn’t unpacked my bag yet. The following weekend I stayed at Raven’s house for a couple of days, and the day after I got back from her house, Alex spent the night. I left him in my apartment while I went to work and that night he came over upset. He told me he’d looked through my overnight bag and wondered why, if I’d only been at Raven’s, I had packed sexy lingerie. I told him he was an idiot, that was the bag from our trip I hadn’t unpacked yet, and that I was through with his shady snooping. He again apologized and we dropped it but as more things of this nature continued, it began damaging our relationship. We began fighting quite a bit.
Then came the fateful day when our relationship really fell apart, and also the day I realized tequila and I could never be friends. I was in a play and had developed what I thought was a harmless crush on the director. It was closing night and Alex came to the show with a buddy of his. I asked him to stay after the show for the cast party. It was being held at the theater since it had a bar built in. He said he was going to a party instead with his buddy. I was pissed. This was a last straw kind of moment for me, and what I should have done was to tell Alex we needed a break. Since I apparently wanted to make things more complicated for myself, this is what happened instead. Alex left after the show and the cast and crew started drinking shots of tequila. Most of the cast started to leave until there were only 4 of us left, including myself and the director. Alex called and I told him I’d be leaving shortly and that I’d come over when I was done. The next thing I know the shots of tequila took over and I woke up lying on the couch next to the passed out director. I heard pounding on the theater door. Uh oh. More knocking as I tried to clear my head and remember what had happened and how I’d ended up on this couch. I began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I had flashbacks of the only scattered moments I could recall from the evening. Shit, I made out with my director. I knew it was Alex pounding on the door and I panicked as I tried to think of what to tell him. The truth seemed way too frightening, but the only lie I could think of was: Alex, I am actually at home in bed right now. This isn’t really happening, you’re just having a nightmare. I didn’t think he’d buy it. I woke up my director and told him he had to hide, my boyfriend was at the door and it would be in his best interest to not be present when I opened it. I opened the door to a furious and worried looking Alex. He asked what the hell had happened, why I hadn’t come home. I told him I passed out, I’d had too much to drink, I apologized. He looked around and asked if someone was there, if something had happened. I told him nothing had happened, I just fell asleep on the couch, and asked him to just please take me home. He didn’t look convinced but finally agreed and we left. The next day I realized that, due to the fact I’d made out with my director then lied about it, I should break up with Alex, at least for now until I could clear my head. I told him I thought we should take a break for a while. He didn’t want the break but reluctantly agreed.
During this break I missed Alex, but felt that we would get back together when we both gained some perspective and could start fresh. What I didn’t realize was that one of the 4 people who had been at the cast party was friends with Alex’s roommate, and she had seen me making out with the director. Small world. I was caught in a lie but didn’t yet know it. I knew something wasn’t right when Alex wouldn't return any of my calls. I finally went to his house and when he saw it was me at the door he wouldn’t even speak to me. He closed the door in my face. I pushed it open and refused to leave until he told me what was going on. It wasn’t fun to hear that he knew I’d lied and cheated.
I called a couple of days later and apologized profusely, and asked if we could try again. He actually agreed to give it another try, however he never let go of what had happened. I finally told him that he either had to let the past go, or let me go, because otherwise this wasn’t going to work. What he did, instead of letting it go, was cheat on me. He had sex with a girl he worked with. The last thing I’d ever expected from Alex was cheating. When he told me what had happened I felt devastated. At this point the obvious and best choice would’ve been to put an end to this clearly damaged relationship full of mistakes, but instead I decided to give him another chance. I figured, in my screwed up logic, that now we were even. That maybe since we had both messed up we could start fresh and move forward. Of course I was wrong.
Our relationship continued to get even worse. Now neither of us had a solid foundation of trust, and Alex continued to blame me not only for my mistake but for his mistake as well. Anytime a fight would come up, he’d throw what I did in my face. When I’d point out that he’d also cheated and on an even bigger scale, his defense would be that he would never have cheated if I hadn’t done it to him first. I couldn’t win. So I decided for the both of us that we needed to break up. We remained “friends” and did that thing couples sometimes do, where they still see each other from time to time after breaking up, pretending it’s a normal, healthy thing to do. Then I started seeing someone else I’d recently met and started distancing myself from Alex, and Alex became a bit of a psycho stalker.
Gavin was over one day and we thought we heard something outside on the lawn. We peeked out through the curtains and saw Alex standing behind a tree in my front yard trying to look in through my window. When he saw the curtains move he ran away. I found out that he had a neighbor who worked as a private investigator and Alex actually hired him to follow me. When I stayed overnight at the new guy’s house I came out to find a note on my car that said: I hope this guy is worth it since he’s destroying our relationship. He obviously forgot that we had broken up. He had somehow gotten new guy’s phone # and left him a voice mail, warning him about all of the things that were wrong with me and told him to be careful if he was planning on dating me. How thoughtful of him to be so concerned about new guy. I decided it was time to cut all ties with Alex. We had really destroyed something that seemed so amazing initially. It seemed like such a shame, but I guess that’s life for you. Live and learn, and that’s what I decided to do. I moved on, literally. I up and moved to Arizona where my sister lived. I decided I needed a change of scenery and to flee the scene of the crime seemed like the best way to get it. As angry as I was with all of his actions, I still cared about Alex. I hoped in time that we could be friends again one day but that was wishful thinking. I realized the past belongs in the past and in order for a new door to open, you have to close the one behind you first. So that’s what I did. I closed the door on a great love and looked forward to seeing what I had in store for me behind the doors of the future.
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