I know what you're thinking...and no, it wasn't J who called me. I'm not that easy. Quit rolling your eyes and I'll tell you all about my mystery guy.
I met him on the internet. Before MySpace and AdultFriendFinder and all those dating sites, people actually met online because they had similar interests, and sometimes they found each other quite by accident. At least, that's how I met Boris.
Of *course* Boris isn't his real name! It wasn't even, come to that, his on-screen name. We met in a forum, when he made some silly cartoon reference, and I came back with, in the best pseudo-Russian accent I could post, "Must keeell Moose an' Squirrrrrel!"
After that, everyone knew us as Boris and Natasha.
We didn't like all the same things, of course, but we both loved classic cartoons.
We debated hotly the merits of Bugs Bunny and his operatic theme score, bitterly flamed Pokemon and the like.
We split evenly on the relative quality of "Pinky and the Brain."
Okay, yes, I was the one who liked it.
What can I say? It was a big show back then.
But to be fair, he was a die-hard Animaniacs fan.
So, we both had our faults.
We did, as people do, and especially as guys and girls do when they are attracted to each other, talk about meeting up.
But he was with someone and I was already falling for J, so not much happened.
We did keep in touch, though, like long-distance lovers corresponding.
Of course, instead of love letters, our missives went on and on about the Simpsons and South Park.
When I finally did meet him, in Anaheim a couple years back during a long layover, I was floored.
I'd seen pics of him, but they didn't do him justice. I'd thought of him as sweetly nerdy, with a nice smile and friendly eyes.
In reality, those eyes were piercing, and I could tell they liked what they saw.
I'm not ashamed to say that in the two hours I had before I caught my flight back home, we had more than just a coffee or two.
Honestly, I'm amazed they didn't throw us out, we were so hot and heavy in that little bar in Anaheim.
Wonder if it's still there?
Anyway, his kisses were aMAZing.
Just close-your-eyes-and-hang-on-tight-as-you-drown fan-frickin-tastic.
And though I was just a bit disheveled, and the buttons on my blouse might have ended up a bit askew, and I think my mouth was swollen, and I know my hair was a wild bird's nest by the time we split up, gasping, well, that's as far as it all went.
He said, "You're going to miss your plane!" and I replied, with my usual stunning repartee, something along the lines of, "Gahhk?"
Then I pulled myself together, he grabbed my suitcase, and we hot-footed it to the gate.
I'd never had a one-night stand, but that day was the closest I ever came. I wanted so badly to just cancel my flight and tumble into bed with Boris somewhere, I swear I don't know how I made myself walk down that gangway onto that plane.
But that was then.
When I was still a good girl.
So--When he called me last week?--
Well, that's another post.
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