A Loss For Boston

I’ve been waiting for awhile for Nick, my Mr. Boston without the accent, (that made me sad, I love those hard accents) to make a move. It never went past texts that read “How was your day?” or “We have to go out again.” The verbage here is very important. “Have to” means he isn’t solidly planning to, and well then, I’m not solidly planning to wait around anymore. He was my dream guy—smart, northerner, ITALIAN, and such a beefcake, too! His downfall was that he didn’t pursue me. And he was a Redsox fan. That would’ve been trouble in deciding how to raise our kids, but I could deal with that later. We needed a second date and I guess he was still working on that set.

I’ll wait for some time if I truly feel the guy is worth it and that there is something between us. While Nick was texting me, I was emailing others on match. Match is sneaky like that. They’ll bait you with emails saying “Someone winked at you, find out who!” I love a good mystery, and even more, I love finding out the ending! So there I was, dreaming that Nick would actually tell me a plan to go out, but figured he wouldn’t so I came across Vince. He was old. Er. Than anyone I had gone out with before. 39 years to be exact. This was it, maybe. This was what I needed. Someone who is older, financially/mentally/emotionally stable, ready to meet someone, do the whole family thing, blah blah blah. We emailed a couple times, and then he asked for my number. Would I feel any guilt if I gave him my number? Hardly. I wasted no time typing him my number, and much to my surprise, he wasted no time calling me. Oh yeah, I said it. He CALLed me. I answered the phone and was greeted by a friendly, confident, New Jersey accent-filled voice. Ahhhh, I love my Jersey boys. Vince was now a triple threat: he calls, he’s from Jersey, and a Yankee fan to join me! Our conversation wasn’t drawn out, but it was long enough to learn that we felt a spark and wanted to see if we could turn that into a fire. Not a real one with flames burning, but ya know, a little passion between us. We’re meeting this weekend for an early drink. What perfect timing (for once) because Nick and I have been incommunicado for a couple days now, and just like with baseball, the Yankees seem to pull it off and get ahead of the Red Sox.