The last couple of nights I have been having crazy recollections of the men that I never got to “know” better… the kind of better that I tend to like to know. I sit around at night and wonder about them; are they married (one is, but I can’t help but think about him), are they happy, will I ever get to see them again? Will I ever get a shot again? They were good guys. They were fun guys. They were guys I turned down, and one of them a couple of times.
I don’t normally think about guys of my past with thoughtful fondness, I mean, I do, but there are a few. The few are because to me, they were funny, smooth, and epic in some way shape or form.
The Athletic Trainer
This guy was something else. He was from the Czech Republic, he was lean and muscular, had tattoos all around, green eyes, and a schnoz ( I love a good schnoz, I think they give someone character), and older. I met him when I started working as the insurance coordinator for the athletic department at the university. We started at the same time and we quickly became friends (when you work in athletics, you tend to see these people a lot, so getting to know them is not really much of an option). I loved hanging out with him, and the rest of the athletic trainers.
One Halloween he threw an epic Halloween party where all athletes were invited. I dressed up as a girl scout, and ended up making out with another athletic trainer (he was dressed as Ron Burgandy, I guess I thought the fake mustache was hot). I had almost left without my enormously fake bra that I had bought for the costume since I needed to fill out that area. Czech was dressed as a nerdy tennis player… with tiny tennis shorts and no underwear. We all knew what he was carrying, as he thought it was funny to pose in a Captain Morgan way for the entire night.
But I digress. I could tell you a dozen stories about this guy, but this is about what I most remember about him, or makes me think about him. The first time I almost got to ‘know’ him better was when when I was seeing someone else, and that someone else had forgotten my birthday. I was hurt, upset, and I needed to find a way to stick it to him. I thought what better way than to sleep with someone else? Now, keep in mind that I was young and I guess you could say that I didn’t value sex to be such a big deal to me back then (there is a reason, and one day I will tell you why), so sleeping with someone else wouldn’t hurt me (to me it was just someone else), but rather the guy I was seeing.
It was late and just about all of the staff had left and I was still there working, and there came in Czech, he was bringing in the coolers and other equipment from the men’s soccer practice. I came out of my office and chatted a bit with him and as soon as he sat down, I leaped (not literally though). I took the small round chair and straddled him ( I have a thing about straddling men… I think it’s because I like to look them straight in the eyes and know that I have somewhat control of the situation). I whispered a couple of things and then asked him if he’d like to meet up and have some fun at his place after he finished with the men’s soccer team.
Czech- “Yeah. How about 6:15pm?”
Me- “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
I left, I had executed my plan and then, I had a feeling of remorse. What the hell was that about?! I thought about the guy I was seeing. I really cared for him, and I really liked him. I knew he didn’t care for me the same way, but that was no reason for me to go and do that to him (although, for all I knew he was doing it to me too, and he didn’t care). I called Czech, I told him I didn’t really feel like going to see him, maybe some other time.
I got a second chance years later, when I was older, and wasn’t seeing anyone else. He worked for Cirque Du Soleil in Vegas (he still does) , and he was coming down to Miami for a seminar on spinal injuries and treatment (or something like that). He would be staying with me for a night, and then he would go to a hotel. I was excited to see him. He was a good guy, a friend I had kept in touch with over the years. I picked him up from the airport and we drove home. I had set up my room for him and made arrangements for him to take my car for the remainder of his stay since he needed it to get to and from his seminars. That night as we made our way upstairs I had a strange feeling surge over me. You know that feeling, that feeling where you somehow find your self slowly being pulled in by some magnet towards the other person? Well, that’s what was happening. I tried to shake it off, and then as we put his things aside in my room, we sat at the edge of the bed and started to say good night. I don’t know how to explain what happened next, but all I know was that we both had succumbed to a new magnet that had pulled us down to the bed. I don’t know why, and I hate that I did, but I brought myself back up and said goodnight. I wanted to be with him, but I reassured myself that losing him as a friend was something I couldn’t risk.
While he stayed in Miami we went to dinner, soccer games, and out for drinks. I miss him. I really do. I know he was probably there when the performer fell these last couple of days. I can’t help but wonder what he is up to, and if I ever moseyed my way over to Vegas… oh, well.