Oops, I did it again AKA Blown Away

I have to be frank – this weekend was looking like a total, self-imposed dud. I’m still not over my cold, so I had planned on staying in and resting up. Friday, I did just that, playing cards with some of the guys here. Which was hilarity in itself because the game is a Spanish game, all the words are Spanish, and the Argentinean tenor cheats like a bastard. In short, good times.

Last night was supposed to be more of the same. I had planned on staying in and beating that Argentinean’s ass. Things changed about 845 when the Prototype texted me. She was at a bar with her roommate and she wanted me to come out. Now, several things went through my head: I wouldn’t be able to beat Argentinean ass, it was raining, I had yet to shower or shave, and I was feeling very homebodyish. Needless to say, I called her to hear her pitch.

Even though I was unsure of why I was going or what I was doing, there was something in her voice and the way she asked that made the decision for me. She didn’t just saying, “I found a cool bar, wanna hang out.” Instead, she said, “I want to see you. Can you come meet me here?” Who was I to argue with that?

Twenty minutes later, showered, shaved, and hair blow dried, I was out the door, umbrella in hand. All in all, it took about an hour from the time she called until I got there. And wow, did she look great. We stayed at that lounge until almost 11 at which point her roommate insisted that we go to one of her “usual” spots, which isn’t far from where they live. The Prototype and I were having a great time, so we didn’t argue.

The second place was nice in that “not posh, but fun, and the drinks are cheap” sort of way. I actually prefer that atmosphere than most others because you don’t have the cheap, classless ho on the prowl for rich eurotrash. It’s mainly regular folk who don’t want to spend an arm and a leg to have a great time. Plus they had a dance floor.

The Prototype and I danced some (the music was uncharacteristically mediocre, I was told), but mostly talked and talked and talked – as we always do. At some point, we went upstairs and found a table so that we could have more intimate conversation. Her roommate found us up there and was pissed (both the British way and the American way) because she thought we had left – which was absurd. We weren’t going to leave her. This is when things got a little…strange.

Her roommate suggested that the Prototype and I go home together. That turned into a long rant about how we’re not much fun to hang out with because all we do is talk to each other and stare into each other’s eyes. Which turned into, “I don’t understand, are you a couple or not?” Which caused me to laugh, turn to the Prototype and suggest that she should be the one to answer that particular question. (She had taken my hand at some point before her roommate showed up, so it was a pretty valid question.) Her only response was, “Wow, you really know how to ask the difficult questions.”

It was close in the end. The Prototype was on the brink of going home with me. Now, don’t imagine that we were going to go have the Freak Nasty. As Smooth Like Butta’ once told me, you know when the woman you’re with is truly special when you want to take her home and NOT have sex with her. When it’s someone like that, sex can wait. At any rate, instead of doing that, we agreed to go to a late night, illegal and dodgy nightclub down the street from where they live. The Prototype didn’t want to stop hanging out with me, but going home might have been too big a step.

The club was fun I suppose, but only because the Prototype and I made it that way for ourselves. She went to ask the DJ to play some good dance music (she knows the guy) and instead of doing that, he left the booth and told her to sort it out. Which led to her and me desperately trying to figure out how to make the damn turntables work. It was nobarrific hilarity.

She was tiring quickly, so we didn’t stay long. Her roommate did stay and who knows what happened with her. I’m sure I’ll find out when I talk to the Prototype later today. But, I found myself walking her home, her arm wrapped around mine. She asked me up to “show me the flat” which I of course agreed to. That led to two hours of conversation in which she once again grabbed my hand and held on. Finally, she obviously said “screw it” to herself and she kissed me as well.

And there’s the bottom line. Even though she has a “war going on between her head and her heart”, she just can’t stop herself when tipsy because that’s the kind of chemistry we have. She’s easily the smartest woman I’ve ever dated and that can be a kind of jinx at times. But for whatever it’s worth, this woman is crazy about me and she’s only holding herself back because she just doesn’t know what’s going to happen over the next few months, and I can see how difficult that is for her, sober or not.

My strategy going into last night was just to play it cool; let the game come to me. I wasn’t going to initiate anything because she asked me not to just a week ago. But if she makes a move, then I’m all in. This is one giant roller coaster ride that I’m a full participant in for a very simple reason: She is the Prototype. I said Blown Away at the top and I’m not kidding. Every single time I go out with her she says something that gives me an entirely new perspective.

For example, I became very disillusioned with America somewhere around November 4th. But the Prototype has rekindled a fondness and appreciation for America in me that I don’t think I ever had. Her argument, if you will, is that America is the only country in the world where someone can immigrate to, and then five years later can stand up and say “I’m an American” and be accepted for that. You could never do that in Britain, Europe, etc. It’s like Yakov said, “What a country”.

Anyway, the point is that’s just what she does. We can be dancing in a rowdy bar somewhere in Northeast London next to a bunch of people that are drunk out of their minds and looking for their next “score” and she’s telling me about her philosophy of why America is great and why she wants to go back at some point. Not only is what she has to say stunningly insightful, but it also makes a stunning point about her, and in a general way about us.

I don’t know where this is going to lead to. Some may read this and think that I’m setting myself up for a fall. And maybe I am. When I talk to her later today, she may very well act like nothing happened last night or feel guilty about what did and try to undo things. But my point is, when you meet your Prototype, you’ll take any and every risk you have to because she’s YOUR Prototype. She’s brilliant, she’s hilarious, and last night, she was absolutely gorgeous. I’ll live and die by whatever risks I have to take.