“Friend Request"

We had not seen each other in 15 years, but tonight was the night we decided to meet again for an innocent drink. But really who were we kidding? “Innocent and drink? Is that an actual thing? But we both convinced each other it was and that this was completely innocent, just 2 old friends “catching up”...in a tequila bar (his suggestion).

We had reconnected via Facebook (I was the one who reached out). It started off innocently like any other Facebook friend you find via archeological dig into your past. It took me a few attempts as his name is extremely common forcing me to sift through everyone with that name until I found him. Huzzah! His profile picture undeniable. It was him.

I scanned his profile (mainly the photos of course), where he lives, what he does for work, his friends, family, vacations, kids, You can get a shocking amount of information this way (or as others might call it Intelligence gathering). Sometimes/oftentimes actually this life review is enough to satisfy me. I don’t need to dig deeper or go any further down the road. This is enough. I’ve gotten all I need. Except this time.

THIS “friend request” was someone I had met 15 years ago. We met at school and and had an very brief, but extremely intense flirtation, electricity, chemistry and one extremely fun and incredibly exciting date followed by a passionate kiss goodnight. After that I inexplicably blew him off with no explanation, didn’t take his calls or see him again. Why on earth did I do that? i had my reasons. At the time I was in my mid twenties in the peak physical fitness and looked the best I ever would in my life. I was definitely 100% not ready to commit to any one person, get into a heavy relationship or limit my personal freedom whatsoever. I knew that was exactly what he wanted and I just could not abide. I could not and was not willing to even consider going down that road. They say timing is everything and for me it just was not my time for this. I had to nip it in the bud and did.

Fast forward 15 years I never forgot this guy and thought of him often. I wondered what happened to him and to myself wondered repeatedly if I had dropped the ball and should have seized this opportunity when it was right in front of me. Even though I blew him off something told me that if I waited long enough at that at some point our paths would cross again and we’d reconnect; perhaps when I was more ready for it. But despite being the same age, living not that far from him…this just never happened. I literally tried looking him up in the phone book, but his name was extremely common and there were hundreds of men with the exact same name. I’d have to call every one of them and ask “hey are you that guy I dumped”? It was futile. But I kept thinking of ways I could accidentally bump into him on purpose. My inability to find him only intensified and heightened my curiosity and feeling that maybe he was the elusive “one”, my “soulmate” and I passed on my one chance to be someone who could have might possibly have been perfect for me. Had I blown it?

It was now 15 years later I was completely out of party mode as everyone I knew had already settled down with spouses and families and here I was alone. The fact that I could not find him, run into him or have any idea what happened to him or where he went deepened the mystery and intrigue. I HAD to find him if only to answer the question of “what if” things had been different? What if like “sliding doors” I caught the train? Even though I knew I could not re-write history I had this idea that at the very least I could see him and right some egregious wrong; get a do over, second chance or at the very least apologize for dumping him. Maybe this was my 2nd chance. At some point as this search dragged on Facebook was born. Huzzah!

Once Facebook became a thing and I got tired of friending all my old school friends, camp friends, vacation friends….I resumed my search for this guy. It took me about 3 seconds. Technology! I just put his name in the search field and up popped his profile. Since unlike the phonebook Facebook has photos I no longer had to sift through the hundreds of men with the same name. I could just look at the photos. Easy peazy. There he was after all this time and years of painstaking fruitless searches. When his profile came up I was not surprised it no longer just him. He was married with 3 young daughters. The photo was absolutely adorable. They were all wearing matching red and white outfits with a completely white backdrop. They looked like the epitome of a storybook family. Seeing this made me feel a slight bit defeated, though at the same time I felt really happy for him; that I hadn’t somehow ruined his life and soured him off of all women. Things appeared to work out quite well for him and this honestly made me happy. I was glad after all these years I’d finally found him; I could finally put this mission to bed. And now; knowing what I now knew based on his precious family Facebook photo I realized that there would be no second chance, but I was oddly ok with this. I would not have the chance to rekindle an old flame or re-write history, but still genuinely happy for him. I sent the friend request. He accepted shortly thereafter. I included a message coyly saying “I don’t know if you’ll remember me” (I knew he would have). He replied and said “holy shit, you’re that girl who broke my heart. Holy shit holy shit. I was devastated after you dumped me. Have I made you feel bad enough”? I replied telling him that I had no idea and didn’t realize I could have that effect on anyone. We both laughed and after this short exchange were now what one would officially called “Facebook friends” (a term that is rife with ambiguity. It’s a make your own adventure story).

We continued the conversation via instant message for a few months. Eventually we ramped things up and took things to the phone and then that was not enough. We flirted with the idea of taking things to the highest level of hierarchies in human connections; in person face to face. All our conversations had been friendly and somewhat bland; nothing at all untoward or overtly flirtatious (was more covertly). But as time went on curiosity got the best of both of us and we had to ramp things up a little. It was HIS idea to meet in person. I opposed this strongly and told him I thought this would be a bad idea. He coyly asked me why I’d hesitate and what could possibly go wrong? The answer to that was so blatantly obvious that I KNEW he knew the answer, but pretended not to. It was almost an insult to my intelligence. But if I was being completely honest my intentions were not all together honorable either, but I wanted to be the good guy; the innocent one who was at the scene of the crime, but swear I never saw a thing! It took some time, but eventually he persuaded me. He felt we simply HAD to see each other and that talking and texting was bullshit. I admit the tension was building. He reassured me repeatedly that this 100% was just friends. No question.

So it was decided. We set a date/time and location. By this point I was extremely excited but also completely terrified. It had been so long since I’d seen him that I was deeply worried about the passage of time and how I had aged and how different I would look to him (as though time stood still for him). He assured me I was being absolutely ridiculous. But I was no longer young and he was bound to notice. I repeated this concern to him (and myself) numerous times over and over before we met to see if I could try and manage his expectations of me and put my own nerves at ease. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I wanted to make it abundantly clear that if he was expecting a 25 year old me he’d surely be disappointed. Again he told me in being stupid. I WAS. I was only 39, not 90.

On this freezing cold night in Manhattan We met in Soho at the corner of Broadway and Lafayette at a place called La Esquina (Spanish for “the corner”). I wore a navy blue wool coat that was belted at the waist. It was not nearly heavy enough for the 18 degree temperature, but I preferred a streamline coat that accentuated my curves to a heavy bulky unflattering winter coat. Under it I wore a black cotton short sleeve dress with tiny white polka dots and a thin cloth belt at the waist. It was one part demure and the other a bit sexy. The goal of the outfit was to look good without looking like I tried too hard. It had sort of a youngish playful sex kitten quality. While I didn’t know how this would go I was certain I wanted him to desire me and still FEEL desirable. The question loomed large in my mind. Was I still attractive or more to the point would HE find me to be. All of this pretty ironic considering the fact that I was the one who had kicked HIM to the curb all those years ago and that this was supposedly just a meeting of old friends. I had to have SOME assurance I still looked ok so earlier that afternoon I asked my work husband Joe how I looked and if based on this He’d fuck me. He said “yes, definitely”. I was relieved.

The time had come and there I stood on this freezing cold Winter night shivering in a coat that did little to keep me warm standing on the corner waiting for him. I had done everything in my humanly possible within my power to try and look as young and attractive as possible and as close to what I remember looking like when we knew each other way back when. I had been early which gave me enough time for anxiety to grab hold as I stood there shivering from the cold and fear. My teeth were chattering. Suddenly right exactly on time a cab pulled up and he got out. I was amazed. He looked almost exactly the same, completely unchanged. The only key difference was that his once jet black hair was now mostly all grey, and I admit he was a bit of a silver fox. While grey hair on women hasn’t quite reached the status of desirable on men it can be quite sexy and on him it certainly was. He was wearing Jeans on with a white t-shirt underneath and a hooded sweatshirt over this halfway zipped up halfway. Admittedly he was underdressed for the place that he himself chose but he looked hip, urban and downtown. He just looked cool. After looking him over I then braced myself for his reaction to me which is a moment I will never forget. He just stared at me for a few seconds with a wide grin and his mouth half gaped open and his eyes very wide. “I think you look even more beautiful now. You look exactly the same, just more mature”. My body went from tense to fully relax. I could finally exhale.

We walked together to the front door of La Esquina. Upstairs it’s a traditional restaurant, but downstairs it was a speakeasy. There was no crowd waiting, but there WAS a velvet rope and I guess we both looked good enough that night to waltz right in. It’s the kind of place I’d never even consider walking in on my own. As we walked down a long flight of stairs it was like entering a palace. The bar was dark absolutely gorgeous. It was impossibly chic with the hippest most beautiful crowd imaginable. You would fully expect to see George Clooney or Brad Pitt having a martini at the bar. We both looked at this bar with complete awe and the first thing my friend said was “i want to fuck this bar”. He said several times. It was pretty funny and I had to agree. If this bar was a person I'd want to fuck it too.

He went to the bar and ordered a “flight” of tequila for the both of us. The only flight I was ever aware of was beer. In hindsight I feel confident that despite the fact that we both swore this was not an actual date date, but just 2 friends catching up I never really bought that story. It was what he told me to convince me to meet him and what I convinced MYSELF of for having the temerity of meeting a married man for an “innocent drink”. It was never that and we knew it. The tequila flight was his insurance policy and how he intended to seal the deal. He paid for everything. Judging by the place I’m sure it was a lot, but he had done well and could easily afford it. After each of us had 1 shot of tequila and it did what tequila does with such precision we both chilled the fuck out, let our guard down and laughed our asses of for hours.

He told me about his life since we last met. He worked for a large ad agency as a creative director. He’d traveled the world and had extensive knowledge of the tequilas we were drinking among many other subjects. He was always extremely hilarious, but the 15 years of life experience added depth of knowledge, maturity and wisdom. I was quickly falling down the rabbit hold.

We talked about our lives, but mostly we just told each other the funniest stories ever and cried laughing hysterically. Although there was seating available for some reason we both stood up the entire time. He told me about his wife and children, but that his marriage was in serious trouble. He told me there had been infidelity on her side and that it was even in their marital bed, which according to him was the worst aspect of this. He told me it was essentially over between them and they were now just going through the motions and would soon divorce. I mainly read this as things married men say to get women into bed. I wasn’t really buying it, but was extremely attracted to him.

We continued our tequila flight and kept talking, though despite the gloom and doom over his collapsing marriage we were mostly laughing. We laughed non stop for hours. I was extremely drunk, but still standing. I had not eaten any dinner. Tequila on an empty stomach is essentially Spanish fly (also assumed this was part of the plan, but I didn’t mind). I HAD to eat, but it was now really late and most restaurants would be closed.

We discussed what we should do now; get dinner or food somewhere? Or call it a night? We made our way upstairs and outside onto the street outside of La Esquina, only NOW since I was extremely drunk the cold weather didn’t seem to bother me. We hailed a cab and decided we’d figure it out once inside. Where this was headed was pretty much a forgone conclusion. We talked more about getting some food, but there was nothing around that was open. He told me that as an executive in his company he had access to a suite at a nearby hotel (I thought really? Was this whole thing a set tup?). He suggested instead of going out to get food that we make use of this hotel room as a Netflix and chill situation (before that phrase was invented). He again re-assured me that it really was JUST friends. But at this point? C’mon. The cab started driving towards the hotel. After all of that tequila I had to reach pretty deep into my mind to access my ethics and values. I could not go any further. I had that imaginary angel and devil on my shoulder guiding me, but of course with the help of the tequila the devil was winning. I thought to myself “ok, all we really did was kiss. Nothing more. That’s hardly cheating”. And then I thought “what do I care? I’m not the one who’s married and breaking a vow”? Then I thought “ok, we’re just gonna go to the hotel room, order food and watch movies and that’s ALL”. My internal conversation was absurd. We both knew what was coming.

The whole condition of us meeting in the first place was that it would just be old friends catching up. Period. No hidden agenda. But who were we kidding? In hindsight we both lied to each other and ourselves. It was way more than that. Clearly.

We were now on the last shot of tequila from the flight. And we were both extremely drunk. By this point I lost complete control of my conscious mind and it was my subconscious mind that was in the drivers seat. I no longer was. I did what I never normally ever do and made the first move. I lifted my right arm and put my hand on his shoulder and said “is this ok”? He looked at me and said “are you kidding me” ???(in other words “hell yeah!!!!”), He did not need to clarify. He knew he had the green light and put both arms around my waste and drew me close and said “is THIS ok”? I nodded and we embraced in a long and deeply passionate drunken tequila infused kiss. After this we stopped to look at each other. I felt a tinge of guilt that it was because of me he’d broken the sacred covenant of marriage and fidelity. This of course is assuming he hadn’t done so before which I was never fully convinced of. I could therefore takeway this idea that i was so fantastick that I was totally worth it.

After we kissed it was this incredible sense of relief and release that had been building for the past few months since the fateful friend request was accepted. We both wanted exactly that from the moment we walked in the door, but in honesty way sooner than that. The genie was out of the bottle. We kissed again; this time in a much longer and even more romantic. He held me tigh and I lost myself in his arms. I was down the rabbit hole. After we stopped pawing each other for a moment we took a pause and discussed what was next. I still hadn’t eaten and needed to. It was closing in on midnight so our dining options were limited.

We were getting to leave and he went up to the bar to settle the check and while he was there I picked up the last shot of undrunk tequila and wolfed it. I thought he did not see this. He revealed to me months later that he DID actually see me do this and laughed to himself, but didn’t tell me. He thought it was adorable.

We hopped in a cab and headed towards the hotel. This was JUST to get some food and watch movies (yeah, right). We were in there about 30 seconds and started sort of playing ring around the rosie (but instead of rosie it was the bed). Clearly I knew we were not going to watch movies. He was on the far side of the room and I was on the side of the room near the door. We had a very drunken negotiation about what we were going to do next. I said to him repeatedly we can’t do this. This is wrong. You’re married. You will end up resenting me, hating me because I ruined your life. He told me this is absolutely not the case. I told him I didn't believe him and he will wake up tomorrow in a world of regret. You know when you’re so drunk, but within this somehow have incredible clarity, foresight and wisdom? I told him that I do not by any means want to ruin his life and have him blame me for it. He swore up, down and sideways that he would never blame me for anything and this is his decision. I reminded him over and over “you’re drunk, you’re wasted. You would not do this if you were sober”. He assured me he would and this is what he wants. Drunk or sober (even though we could not compare). I told him are you SURE you’ve never cheated and he told me he never had (I would have felt better if he had because I would not be the thing that broke 14 years of fidelity). He told me he’d never ever cheated before, but he would do anything for 1 night with me. Really??? I thought that’s completely insane. I had to cover all of my bases. I did not want to be the cause of the death of a marriage followed by a raging hangover and then total resentment towards me (all of this after multiple shots of tequila). We sort of chased each other around the bed (playfully). After finally convincing me that no harm could come from this, and that this would not ruin his already ruined marriage, and that no matter what happened on this night that tomorrow he won’t carry any resentment towards me I relented. I think again I made the first move and we got into bed and turned off the lights. It was drunken sloppy, but exciting and passionate sex. I again felt a sense of relief, like there was no where else in the world I could possibly be or would ever want to be, as though no where else in the world even existed. After we finished we did not sleep. In fact we stayed up all night except for maybe a short little cat nap. We talked for hours and hours and continued laughing and kissing and touching each other. I still had not had any food and was starving. We finally decided to raid the mini bar and eat pringles chips. I was thrilled to have any food whatsoever. He teased me over the fact that I was so insistent that he be sure and he said he still was sure and nothing had changed even though he was now sober (mostly). We stayed up until the sun came up talking, laughing and telling stories about our lives. Though I did not reveal this until months later I knew then I was in love. I was sure of it.

I had to get to work and so did he. I put my clothes on and he was still in bed under the covers. He looked at me so tenderly staring at me and said “i can’t believe i'm with you. I just can’t believe I’m with you”. I felt like a fairy princess. I had never ever known anyone who seemed so unbelievably grateful to be with me as though I was the most special person on earth. I got myself together and we kissed goodbye. I left the hotel room and headed back home so I could get ready for work. I floated on a cloud all the way home. I was no longer drunk, but still high as a kite.