Background: BFD and I are integrally involved in a fitness activity that’s rather outable. He is the reason I got involved and that I met a whole new group of people. He is the standard-bearer for it and widely beloved. He also throws lots of money into it and lots of time thinking about how to improve it as an activity and as the business supporting the activity. We interact with these people at least once, if not, more each week. We all have little in common except our involvement in this activity.
In early November, our girl trainer (“GT”) suggested to Hot Neighbor and me (and by extension BFD) that we have a party in December for everyone. BFD had been wanting to do something similar with our boy trainer (“BT”), but BFD’s schedule was never conducive. GT, who is becoming a friend of mine, and HN emailed me and BFD with a suggested date and moved it for our benefit from last weekend to this one.
BFD was at training camp last week and he’s wrapped up in BFD world, so he forgot to calendar our party, which we were essentially co-hosting. When I reminded him, he got a little cranky about it because he was having (1) unattended houseguests [friends flying in for the weekend who were staying at his place, but with whom he did not need to interact much], and (2) a new management team flying in for the weekend and into next week with whom he would be very involved. Everyone was arriving on the day of the party.
During our Saturday morning workout with Boy Trainer, BFD and I got into a little tiff toward the end as he realized he’d have to figure out some logistics. The tiff was quickly resolved and we left together after he made plans with a bunch of people there for a little holiday get-together next Saturday morning — forgetting that we might be traveling. Le Sigh.
Anyway, we left together in his car and I asked if I could borrow “mine” to go to the party and do the running around to prepare. He said no to the car, as his house guests would be using it and he needed them to be on their own, but sweetly, and that he’d figure out the party thing. We went to a tiny supermarket in his old neighborhood, 3 blocks from LP’s house, and wandered around talking.
Shopping with him is always interesting because he eats terribly (his biggest purchase: salisbury steak and mac and cheese frozen dinners), and we’re both so opinionated about brands. He bought tazo tea bags(!), which just killed me, because (1) he should know how to make a great cup of tea, and (2) bags????? Anyway, he ended up grabbing a bag of hershey’s kisses and as the cashier checked us out, she looked a little horrified that he had a bank envelope filled with cash in the bottom of the basket. It’s meaningless in terms of the tale, but her look of horror was priceless.
BFD was mid-story telling me about a lunch he’d had on Friday with a beautiful older woman, who serves on a board with him, and her SO with whom BFD has sports things in common, and he was talking about how “fucking depressed” he’s been and how that helped to be there, and it helped she was beautiful of course, and then proceeded to tell me about the first time he met her and what he said, which was something charming and mildly inappropriate in that he essentially told her how beautiful she is in a business meeting. (She was a beauty queen in her youth, so it’s more acceptable, but still.)
I stopped him and said, “really, honey?” He said, I know, I am a shameless flirt. Which he totally is when there is zero on the line. He is incredibly charming to women he would never date, which is endearing if you are in your 50s and this adorable guy is flirting with you, but not so much if you’re like his girlfriend. Actually, it’s kind of charming to me, too. Part of the difference between how he treats me and how he treats other women around me is that he’s less flirtatious with me, yet always firmly by my side, which is sort of how everyone knows I am actually his girlfriend. The women in our workout will often look to me and they know I am perfectly cool with it.
As we headed back, we drove past LP’s street, just 5 houses in and I was so tempted to tell BFD to turn there, just so I could see the house — to see if it were back on the market. I told him as we drove along, and he handed me almondy Hershey’s Kisses, that BP has agreed to finance a car for me, which made him happy. Me, too. He asked whether it were a statement car (like my car with him) or just a turn the key and go car. I told him, honestly, I did not know.
He affirmed again that he’d be thinking about the logistics of the party and would call me, but he just did not think he could go.
When we got to my building, he kissed me goodbye, and we then kissed for a bit in the car. I hugged him and kissed his cheek, too. It was nice and sweet and genuinely affectionate.