When I went to get my bycicle fixed...

`WHAT?!” I yell out, a little too loud, in indignancy of the repairman’s courage to ask me to pay a hundred dollars for a new front wheel on my bicycle, as he smiles at me friendly, knowing he is about to cash-in. I asked him to replace it with a used wheel, and he said he would. Apparently this still has to cost a hundred dollars. I start digging in my purse to find my wallet. Must have tucked it away very well last time, because I am having trouble retrieving it from the bottom. Sometimes it feels like I have a purse like Hermione in Harry Potter, who manages to pull complete tents out of her tiny purse. Finally, I find my wallet.

The repairman has replaced his friendly look with an impatient look as I try to rip out my debitcard. As I am doing this a little bit too roughly, I pull open the coin compartment and unwillingly start torpedoing the now angry-looking repairman with quarters and dimes. A brave dollar finds his way all the way to the door and seems to want to get out of the store as desperately as I do by this time. As I bend down to pick it up, more luck strikes me. On the other side, someone opens the door and with a smack it stops against my head. Great, just what I needed today, is the last thought that slips through my head before the world turns black for just a few moments.

I open my eyes to see the repairman, now bearing a look that is a mixture of fury and scared shitless, hanging over me. His greasy right hand is holding my left arm, probably to check my pulse. I sit up as fast as I can yelling: “I am not dead, you fool!” Bad idea. The blackness tries to find a way back into my head and the bicycle store starts spinning around me. With my hands and arms almost flailing I manage to settle a balance and again look at the repairman who’s face is now formed in an annoyed grin. So many emotions passing by today. I look to the other side and see the well-formed legs of the culprit, fancy dressed in a pair of so-called worn jeans. He’s holding a wet rag that looks like it has just been used to wipe the inside of twelve motorbikes and he is clearly looking for a way to hand it to me without smearing me with grease.

“No thanks…”I wave at him and as I raise my hand to make a gesture to enforce my words, he grabs my hand and with a swift motion he pulls me back to my feet. His and my face are now apart by about 2 inches and I am looking, for the first time today, at a warm, welcoming and slightly apologizing smile. “I really do apologize. I wasn’t trying to kill you really.” He says with a smile while holding out his hand to me. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

By now I have found my way back to consciousness and I am starting to feel the consequences of his little accident trying not to kill me. I feel a huge bruise forming on my forehead and as I rub my hand over it, I notice it has already started to form a bump. Great, just what I needed, a huge bump on my forehead like a five-year old.

“Well, if you know any secrets to get rid of bumps on ones forehead, that would be nice.” I hear my voice is still not what it’s supposed to be.
The repairman has found his way back behind the counter and seems to be tapping his fingers impatiently on the surface. I look at him, for the first time seriously pissed today and my sudden turn-of-the head startles him. He stops and the impatient look on his face changes. In the meantime, my attacker is still standing about 2 inches away from me, still looking at me in an apologetic way so I decide to turn my attention back to him.

“How about a cup of coffee on me?” he finally replies. His answer startles me. I must be a little mixed up from the collision. Did he just ask me out?
“I must say, being abused and asked for coffee in the same afternoon by the same guy I a first. Or it is in that order anyways.” I give him my sweetest smile and he’s giving his back. “I’m Alex by the way.” He says as he, again, sticks his hand out to me. We’re about to walk out of the store as I hear someone clear his throat.
“Oh shit!” I yell out. The stupid repairman. The whole reason I was here. So one more time I draw my wallet and this time I manage to pay successfully. Alex has taken my bicycle outside for me and is waiting there for me with a broad smile on his face. “Sadly my mean s of transportation don’t leave any room for yours.” He says as he points as his little city car. “Why don’t we share mine?” I offer him. I hop onto the back as he starts riding it onto the road. Just about fifteen yards on our way we hit a speedbump and luck will it be, the front wheel breaks off….

Diary of a hopeless romantic - chapter one

Friday, February 21st
It’s been ten days since he’s called or texted me. It’ll probably be another week before he will. Of course I know what’s going on by now. I just don’t know whether I should be mad, hurt or upset. It’s no surprise anymore. When will this ever stop?

Friday, February 28th
Still nothing. I feel like going over to his bar tonight. Making sure he knows I’m still alive. Who knows, maybe even catch him red-handed. Still not sure what to feel yet, although anger seems to be a returning emotion. What do I even still want from him? I talked to Sasha about it today. She, as always, told me to quit it, let it just be over with. I agreed with her. But I just don’t seem to find the courage inside myself to actually do it and besides, I wouldn’t know how. Even when I give myself time to let go, eventually he will contact me again and I will fall for his little white lies and let myself get dragged back. It’s how it happens every time and I just don’t know how to break the pattern. God, I wish I didn’t love him so much.

Thursday, March 5th
Well, he’s gone and done it again. I knew it. He met someone else, and as usual, it lasted for about two whole weeks before she dumped him and he came running back to me. Something wants to make me say: “I told you so.” But I wouldn’t know who to say it to but myself. I am the fool who picks up the phone again. And I know I shouldn’t. I know so well! But somehow, I still feel those butterflies when he talks to me again. I keep telling myself: “See, he does love you, because he does come back.” But why? Why do I keep going through this ritual over and over again, where he cheats, then comes back to me, I shout and yell, cry and eventually forgive him and try again. How long will he stay this time? Three months? Less? I never know, but I keep hanging on anyways. Can someone please shoot this hopeless romantic inside me?

Saturday, March 7th
How crazy am I? Jack came online around 1 am last night. We started talking casually. But after just a while it came down to the same old thing. He wanted to see me. And yes, I wanted to see him too. God, how I’d missed him. So stupid as I am, I got dressed, jumped into the car and drove to his house. When I got there the lights were all turned off, except in the attic. I could see the lights in his room on. I texted him and heard the sound of his phone echoing through the window. No response. “He must be in the bathroom.” I thought. So I called. I heard the phone ring. Still nothing. Maybe he was already in bed and he was sleeping in his parents’ room, because his mom was in Africa again. I walked to the front door and rang the bell. Still nothing. I tried the landline. I could hear it ringing inside. He didn’t pick up. I started to get annoyed now. I checked the shed to see if his bicycle was there. It was, he had to be home. So I started looking under plants and doormats for a key. I knew his mom was the type to keep spare keys outside. All I found were some spare keys to a bicycle. I tried the shed. No keys there either. But I did find a jar of marbles. So I started throwing marbles at his window. Most of them didn’t make it, one or two flew in through the open window. Still no Jack. When I ran out of marbles I started looking for pebbles. In the dark, in the backyard. By this time I had woken up the neighbors, because I saw a light flick on in the house. I ducked away and waited for the light to turn off again. I felt like a burglar. In the mean time I had been digging in my bag, searching for something to throw at the window. I found my mascara. I threw it at the window. It made a loud bang and ended up in the roof gutter. Still no response. By now at least 45 minutes had gone by and I was steaming mad. I gave up. I got back into my car and cried all the way back home. I am never, ever driving to a guy’s house in the middle of the night. Ever again. Especially this guy’s

Wednesday March 11th,
Jack called me today, out of the blue. It was during the day and he was actually sober. I was so surprised it made him laugh. He said he missed me and wanted to see me as soon as possible. He’s never said that to me before. I was still mad about Friday night, but I decided I could spit that in his face when we spoke face to face. I don’t know what to make of this. We’re meeting for dinner tomorrow night. He’s taking me somewhere. Of course I have to be the one to pick him up, but that’s just because he doesn’t have a car yet. I wonder where we’re going. It will be nice going somewhere together. He never takes me places. In fact, we’ve never even been on a real actual date. I should dress up and do my hair. I wonder if he notices…

Thursday, March 12th
Midnight, here I am, all dressed up. No Jack. He didn’t call or text. I tried calling him three times but he’s not picking up. That Ass! I am so over this!

Monday, March 16th
Jack called me at 3 am last night. He was all distraught and obviously drunk. I didn’t pick up the first three times he rang and then he texted:
“Are you mad?”
My only response was:
“Duh”
I couldn’t help but respond. I was awake anyways. I was after the first ring. Wide awake and my heart was pounding like crazy. Why does he get me all worked up? Even when I am so mad at him. So when he called a fourth time I finally picked up. To hell with a good night’s sleep, who has to work anyways? At first he just kept quiet after I had answered with a simple: “WHAT?”. After a minute of silence I sighed and I was about to hang up when he started to talk. As usual he sounded scarily clear yet I knew he was drunk. His sentences weren’t making any sense. But he mostly kept apologizing and he wanted to make it up to me. He couldn’t answer me why he had stood me up though. He just said he ‘forgot’. His standard answer. He has such a bad memory, no wonder with all the substances he keeps abusing. But as always, I caved and asked him what he was going to do to make it up to me. Apparently there is this huge party at the club close to his house this weekend. They’re sold out, but he said he could get us in. So, hesitantly, I said yes. What else was I supposed to do?

Friday, March 20th
This weekend is going to be a surprise. I spoke to Jack on Monday and he said he could get us tickets to this party tonight. He would celebrate his birthday there as well. He’d call me if he had them. I haven’t heard anything since. I’d love to go though. I know his friends will definitely be there, maybe this time things will be different. I’ve picked out my outfit and my hair is done. But I am not putting anything on until he calls or texts. I am not going to sit all made up and waiting like I did last week.

Sunday, March 22nd
I am beside myself with anger. I should have known. I sat around all Friday night, waiting in vain. But I decided I wasn’t going to let it get to me this time. I can cope with disappointment, I have so many times before and especially these last weeks. So last night I went out with the girls. Just a fun night, to forget about Jack and the fact that tomorrow is his birthday. It really helped. I had a great time with the girls and got home quite drunk. And then today, I turn on my laptop, go to facebook and there they are. The pictures of Jack’s birthday party, at the club, with the girl he had cheated me with just a month ago. And the pictures were clear enough to show that whatever they had going on, it wasn’t over yet. The same feeling hit me that I had when I discovered about the last girl in November. But this time I am not going to let it just pass like that. I found their email addresses (of both girls) and I sent them an email telling the whole story. How he’s been cheating on me for almost 2,5 years now. How he told me it was over with them, but seeing from the pictures it clearly isn’t. I cannot believe I fell for his excuses again! I almost lost friends over this. How blind can love make a person? It’s ridiculous! I wonder if he’s even going to respond. I am sure he’ll find out soon enough.

Tuesday, March 24th
Jack’s birthday was yesterday. I didn’t text or call him. Apparently it didn’t bother him at all, since he didn’t text or call me either. I had some interesting emails though. From both the other girls. The one from November instantly believed me, she had had a feeling back then something was wrong and she was sorry it had lasted so long for me. The other one didn’t believe me at first, but then she read the email of the first girl and she had to cave in. The first girl works with him, so I am sure by now he’s heard about it all. I am curious to see what will happen next.



Friday, March 27th
Jack came online tonight on IM. He was furious. We talked for about half an hour. It turns out that girl who works with him has spread the word over there and he’s been getting a lot of shit dumped on him by everyone. He blames it all on me. I never even occurred to him how much it might have hurt me to find out he was still seeing that girl, that he lied to me over and over again. No, to him, what I did, sending that email was the worst thing anyone has ever done to him. And people have done some nasty things to him, I should know. So he said, he wanted to break all contact with me. I think for the first time in two years I touched his heart. Maybe it was by hurting him, but I think it’s really the first time anything I said or did hit home. Anyways, he blocked me on IM and removed me from facebook. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or sad now. I think it’s a combination of both. Maybe I can finally close this chapter of my life…



copyrighted by author

Time to move on...

“Mace, you on that treadmill AGAIN?” Angela tried to raise her voice over the music I was playing to keep me going on a steady pace. The fast baseline of ‘Freestyler’ by Bombfunk MC’s was busting through my surround sound system. Pearls of sweat had formed on my face and I grabbed the remote to turn down the volume.

“Yeah, sure, you know I need to keep in shape!” I answered while still trying to maintain the same pace. It was one thing to work out alone, with some good music to keep you going, it was another to also talk at the same time. Angela gave me a pitiful look but I ignored her as I took a big gulp from my water bottle. I was going to get that firm ass and those sleek thighs, even if I had to work out two hours a day.

Angela walked out into the kitchen to get herself a drink and I tried to get back to focusing on the task that lay beforehand. Thankfully, time had flown by faster than I thought and my alarm was already going off. I slacked off my cooling down period and enthusiastically jumped off the treadmill. Not a smart idea after being on it for forty minutes. With a loud “OOMPH!”, I smacked to the ground just as Angela came walking back in. “Smooth moves Mace, is that also in preparation of your big night?”

I hated how she pronounced ‘big night’ in a condescending way. She knew what this night meant to me. It would be a chance for a new beginning. Stumbling back onto my feet I grunted: “Shut up!” in my defense. Angela just laughed and followed me to my master bedroom.
As I started stripping off my sweaty clothes I continued: “I want to look my best, you never know who I might run into!”

“Yeah girl, you might just meet your knight in shining armor, who knows.” Even though Angela’s voice got muffled a little because I continued my way into the bathroom, leaving the door half-open, I replied: “Hey, at least I am trying to do something about it!”

“Can’t deny that!” I heard her answer right before I turned on the shower. After a quick shower we took an hour and a half to get through all of my wardrobe possibilities and then ordered some take-out and spent the rest of the night on the couch.

***

“Mace, calm down, you will do fine!” Angela’s voice echoed through my apartment from the speakerphone in my bedroom. I was sitting on the floor in front of my bed, in a pair of pants and my bra, my knees pulled up, my arms leaning on my legs and my head resting in my arms. I was trying not to hyperventilate. “Angel, I can’t do this. I am not ready yet!”

“Sweety it has been nine months, it’s time to move on! He has!” She added on, mumbling: “Lord knows, he has.”

“You’re not being helpful!” I said in a scornful tone. I could hear her sigh on the other side of the line. “Ok, Mace, look at it this way, you paid forty bucks for this night. Drinks are included, at the very least you can get yourself drunker than ever for forty bucks!”

I burst out laughing. “Angel you are crazy, but you’re right.” My breathing was still uneven. “I need to lighten up a bit.”

“Time to put your outfit on, remember, you want to say sexy, but also distinguished and independent!” I crawled up from the floor and walked to my closet. I knew exactly what I would wear. I had the perfect black pants that I had bought months ago, one size too small, but thanks to my treadmill they fit now. On top I put on a blouse, with a fine crease pressed into it. The blouse was aquamarine blue, it brought out the color brown of my eyes. Leaving the top three buttons open I showed just enough cleavage to show it was there, but still be mysterious enough about it.

“Angel I need to blow-dry my hair, need to let you go, ok?”

“Are you sure you’re ready? Can I let go of your hand now?”

“Yes”, I sighed, “I am fine now, thank you! Love you, bye!”

By this time I was standing next to the machine and clicked Angela away right after these words. Time to get my hair and make-up ready, both of course had to look like I had put no effort into it at all, which result could only be achieved after at least an hour of work.

An hour later, after checking my butt in the mirror one more time, all ready and a little ahead of schedule I stepped into the elevator of my building.

“Excuse me, what floor is this?” Two bright green eyes looked straight into mine.

“Fifth.” I answered and I added a little smile to my answer. He returned the favor and at the same time stuck his hand out.

“I’m George.” His voice was a warm baritone. Besides the amazing green eyes he had light brown hair, in a neat cut, a dimple in his right cheek and an athletic posture. He was wearing a nice pair of designer jeans and a buttoned-down black shirt.

“I’m new to the building.” He added as he shook my hand after I had taken his. “In fact, I am new to the city.” I had already opened my mouth to introduce myself but he interrupted me.

“I am so sorry, I am being rude, please, speak.” His whole manor had something very gentlemanlike and I found myself very attracted to him.

“I am Macy, 5F.” I said in a way to businesslike way. Again he gave me his nice smile and I suddenly felt the need to lean into one of the elevator walls.

“So where are you from?” I asked him, hoping that I sounded casual this time.
“Other side of the country.” He answered short but amused. “I am from Charleston, North Carolina.”

“How nice to have a Southern gentleman added to our building.” My attempt to be friendly was lame, I knew, but I found myself not knowing anything better to say.

However he laughed at my remark and said: “You might want to leave the gentleman part out.” He added a little wink. Was he flirting with me? By this time the elevator bell dinged and we both had to get out on the ground floor. Southern gentleman or not, he let me step out first and then rushed past me to open the door for me.

“TAXI!” I had walked up to the curve and hailed a cab to get me downtown. No way I was going to take the subway in this outfit!

I got into my taxi and before it took off I glanced at my new handsome neighbor and wondered if my plans for tonight might be redundant. Perhaps I should look at what’s right in front of me. As the city started rushing by though, I quickly forgot about my conversation in the elevator and tried to poise myself for the night ahead of me.

After yet another hectic cab-ride (why do I still keep getting in?) I finally got there about ten minutes before it was supposed to start. I liked being early, especially when I had to go somewhere so far out of my comfort zone. It gave me a chance to score the room, make me feel more comfortable. The other advantage I found out was that I got to pick a table because I was so early.

Ten minutes later, after carefully scoping out the right table, the room started filling up very quickly with men and women my age. I looked at the women to see if there was any competition. I saw a bunch of women who must have been at least five years younger than me, it was more obvious in the way they dressed and handled themselves then by their faces. Women in their early twenties tend to dress a little more obvious. Show more cleavage and legs because in their minds more is less. When you pass twenty five you start learning that less can be more and sexy is not in the way you dress. I noticed a bunch of guys who would definitely go for these younger women, they were already eyeing them from the other side of the room. Well, I wasn’t looking for a man like that anyway. While I was still scoping out a possible date, suddenly a bell rang and a guy sat down in front of me.

I tried to smile and take my time but he started talking immediately, it was obvious that he had done this before. While he was introducing myself I had already decided that I wasn’t going to like him, since he was one of the guys scoping out the half-dressed girls earlier on. I guessed he was in his early thirties, a career man but even though he had the arrogance, he lacked a certain charisma and I guessed he wasn’t as successful as he made it sound. He had dark blond hair and a very standard I-go-to-the-gym-every-morning-posture. When the bell rang it felt like it had been an hour and I couldn’t remember saying much at all.

Soon enough the second guy sat down. I had to look twice and try not to laugh. A four foot five, bald and clearly middle aged guy, with glasses from the eighties and a history professor like tweed suit sat down and stuck out a small but sweaty hand. Out of politeness I took it as he began to speak with a voice more fitting a squirrel then a grown man.

“Hi, I am Donald, nice to meet you!”

“Macey, likewise.” I said with little to no enthusiasm. He seemed to be excited enough for the both of us. He couldn’t sit still on his chair as he was chattering away, constantly asking me the weirdest questions.

“Have you ever been married before? I have.”

“No.”

“What color are the walls in your house? Mine are all neutrals, I like neutrals, do you?”

“Sure.”

“What are your hobby’s? Do you like painting by numbers?”

“Not really..” I had no idea how to respond to this guy and couldn’t have been happier to hear the bell.

By now I had given up on the concept, I looked at the faces around the room, all still full of expectation. I wished I still had the innocent expectations some of the people here had, I had lost my naivety after Branden had broken up with me. He had cheated on me and not only that, just three months after our break-up they had announced their engagement. We had been together for six years and he never even hinted towards marriage, but apparently, while still with her, he had found the love of his life.

Lost in my thoughts I had not even noticed the next guy who had moved towards my table and had sat himself down. And somehow he had not felt the need to draw my attention.

“Are you as bored by this as I am?” The voice, that sounded somewhat familiar, woke me from my daydreams and I focused on the face in front of me. If I had meant to make a funny retort, my words left me the instant I looked at him. And to top of the wonderful impression I was making on him, I started stammering.

“I…uhm…well I wouldn’t say…he…eeerhm…Hi!”

“Wow, so boring it’s got you at a loss for words huh?” He had a slight grin on his face as he said this. Was he taunting me? He quickly glanced to the guy to the right from him, Donald. When he turned back to me his smile had grown wider.

“So this guy must make a really good chance, should I even talk to you?”

That finally broke the ice and I started laughing.

“I am sorry, after the guys that have sat down at my table so far I wasn’t expecting anything good anymore, especially not you!” Oh no! Did I really say that? Now he must think I am some weird sad girl. And just being here already added to that fact. But wait, he was here too!

“So what brings you here?” I dared to ask him. He smiled again and with his slight Southern accent said: “Figured it would be a good way to meet some new people here. Didn’t realize I was going to meet my neighbor, haha!”

I smiled and again found myself at a loss for words. Why couldn’t I just make conversation with a handsome guy? Even if this wasn’t going to be anything romantic, at least it would be nice to have a nice male friend in the building. Suddenly I heard Angela’s voice echoing through my head: “What do you have to lose?” and whether this was her speaking or my un conscious, I decided that the voice was right.

“Well, I’ll be happy to show you some nice coffee places and bars you can check out!” I gave him my warmest “I-am-not-trying-to-come-on-to-you-but-do-you-like-it?” look.

“Well that sounds like an excellent plan!” He leaned in closer and said: “In fact, why don’t we call this thing a night and go find one of those places?” I suppressed a giggle. Did he actually say that? Were they really that tacky in North Carolina? Because here something like that would never fly. And yet I could not stop myself from saying: “Good idea, I have seen enough here!”

I felt like a teenager sneaking out of school as we stood up, as casual as possible, and slowly started walking out of the room. I tried not to look at all the people looking at us, and in an attempt to do that, I looked at him. He gave me a warm smile and suddenly I knew walking out of here with him was the smartest thing I had done in months.

As we walked to the elevator I glanced at the organizers of the night and could see their surprised looks. One of them was definitely not a star in subtleness as she bent over to her college and whispered just a tad too loud: “I hate it when there’s two people who cannot even wait an hour until the night is over before they hit the sack together.” All I did was smile at her. Little did she know.

When the elevator doors closed he looked at me and said: “So, Macy, 5F....” This time his smile was seductive and slowly I leaned into the elevator wall again. This could become a very interesting night……