A couple of weeks ago I met a really charming sales guy, passing through town and the hospital where I work. I know what you’re thinking, which is what I thought, “oh sure, handsome, charming salesman has got to have a lady in every town.” He also lives in Seattle. Now Seattle isn’t that far from Portland until you think about hanging out with someone from there. But I jump ahead of myself…
The boy’s name is Mark (quickly nicknamed Funky Bunch or FB by my housemates in homage to the quite steamy Marky Mark we all know and love so well). So after a chance meeting and a lot of information exchanged I am intrigued but don’t see him again for a week when I then run into him at the hospital coffee cart. I sit and chat with him and there is instant chemistry and ease. We talk for 45 minutes. He seems great; adventurous, honest, funny, and seemingly does not have a lady in every town. He shows me a suggestive email and a sexual door creaks open just a bit. I go back to work and 30 minutes later get a text message from him. Somewhere in there I open the sexual door a bit wider and we both proceed to walk right through. I realize after some time that I am sexting at work!! Holy shit! What has come over me?! Coffee the next day turns into an hour and a half of talking, laughing, flirting…this is getting good. Playing hooky from work is suggested by Mark as is getting a drink sometime. But alas we both return to our respective jobs and he leaves town that afternoon to head back to Seattle. Hoping to see him again the following week, I keep my eyes open around the coffee cart. Monday goes by. No Mark. Tuesday goes by. Nothing. Wednesday morning I’ve given up. My coworker and I are rushing to a meeting over lunch and I hear my name called out a few times. I turn, see Mark, beam (according to my coworker) and give him a big kiss on the cheek. I run to the meeting but Mark suggests getting drinks the next night. I’m super excited, go to the gym after work, get all dolled up and head out to meet some friends for dinner. 8:30 approaches and I haven’t heard from the guy. I call in more friends and a housemate for respite and start drinking. He’s losing points fast. 10:00 rolls around and not only do I hear from him but he’s just down the street and will be walking over shortly. I’m smiling, excited again. Then… James walks in! WTF! He comes over and says hi, chats it up with my friends. Then… Mark walks in. For about 20 minutes I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. And then James fades into the background. Mark and I reconnect in a big way and he quickly regains all points previously lost. I do give him a hard time about how the night had gone earlier and he says to me several times, “Katie, don’t sweat the small stuff.” Right. Me? Good luck. The night progresses to a walk to my car to drive him back to his hotel. We make out by the truck and I swear to god the earth moves. Our chemistry is insane. So I drive him to the hotel and in a whirlwind valet the little purple pickup and get swept up to an 11th floor room overlooking the river. We make out, no sex, but hot. Again in one context or the other I hear him saying not to sweat the small stuff. Again I think, ‘nice try,’ but only fleatingly because I’m otherwise engaged. The morning rolls in slowly and I depart, knowing when he will be back in town but with no formal agreement to see each other again. I walk out to get my truck, which is so clearly not in line with the other BMW’s and classy cars the valet is pulling in and have the following conversation:
Valet: “What’s the name under?”
Me: “Mark.”
Valet: “Are you checking out today?”
Me: “He is, but a little later.”
Valet: “Um, is the truck coming back?”
Me: “Nope.”
Valet: “OK. Do you need a map of the area or directions anywhere?”
Me: “Nope.”
By the time I get home I’m still chuckling to myself about the exchange with the valet and a really wonderful night with Mark. I climb out of the car with my dinner leftovers and high heels. My neighbor looks at me coyly… “I think we call that the walk of shame.” I laugh outloud. Certainly it is! And I think to myself walking in the house, ‘but it sure was fun and life is short. Don’t sweat the small stuff.’