Summers stink. I can't stand the heat and the humidity of this city, it's unbearable when combined with the smog. When you get home you have to wash the grey slime off your skin: it's soot mixed with sweat and ocean humidity. We don't get to sit in nice cool cars to drive to our destinations. No, we have to walk in the heat to the subway and go underground where it smells like urine and the air is stifling and even hotter. Then we get to cram into the train which may or may not have working air conditioning, squeezing ourselves between lots of other sweaty people. Not everyone in this city conforms to American standards of personal hygiene. Enough said. Then, when you get out of the subway and want to take a good deep breath, you gag instead. The city breeze smells like sewage and garbage. I heart NY.
I've always hated the summer, not just in the city. I don't like being out of school and most summers I worked full-time in whatever crappy, mind-numbing, cubicle hell job I could find. I even hate summer clothes. I refuse to buy them. I think pastel and khaki should be illegal colors and people wearing spandex should be arrested for indecent exposure. My repulsion for the season probably developed because I grew up in Miami where it's summer year round. Either that or I'm a closet Goth-girl who shrivels up in the sunlight because I want to be a vampire so badly I've made myself allergic to the sun.
Last year, my first summer here, I didn't have to take a cubicle hell job. My fellowship paid year round. That was so wonderful, I planned to get all my reading and work done and would be so productive. But then I found myself suddenly friendless because my buddies all left town. I had no one to go out with or to go see and talk to. I got cabin fever. And I couldn't even stand to go outside so I stayed in my air conditioned bedroom all day, every day. Predictably, my mood and emotional well-being plummeted, so this summer slump was particularly bad.
Enter my home teacher(HT). When we first met I decided I wasn't interested in him. He seemed boring and stiff and didn't catch my attention at all. The disinterest was mutual and we never talked other than polite greetings. Until HT started visiting me in April. The visits didn't change my opinion of him. But he listened to me, so I talked about how miserably my summer was going. He thought I was some kind of hermit because I never went out. He told me about the singles activities he went to and said he'd let me know when something was happening. I asked him to call me because I wanted to go. He never did.
In May we started working in the church garden. Only three people showed up on planting day: me, home teacher(HT) and an older woman. She could only stay until noon so she planted her box then left. HT and I went to the nursery to buy supplies then we spent several hours filling all the unclaimed boxes with seeds and growing things. I enjoyed it and didn't even mind the heat. HT got more intriguing. I actually saw him and realized he was good-looking, he has aquamarine eyes and a lovely body. I considered re-considering him. When we finished, he told me about a party for some people in the singles ward. Did I want to go? Yes. He said he'd pick me up at 6 so we could go to the park and maybe eat dinner before the party.
I had a date!--Central Park and then a party. Not too bad. This was my first real date in NY after living here 10 months. I was excited to have someone take me out, I needed something new. I got dressed in nice pants and a blouse and pretty sandals. I put on make-up and fixed my hair which meant taking down my permanent summer ponytail. I rarely wear make-up in the summer because it just melts off anyway. So this would be a special occasion.
He called me half an hour before 6 and asked if I could walk to his place instead, it was only 11 blocks. Um, ok. Weird. What kind of man renigs an offer to pick up his date? He was southern and that's not how southern men are raised to treat women! They're old fashioned when it comes to manners and I got used to that in Georgia. Maybe there was something wrong with his car? Whatever it was, I walked 11 blocks to his apartment in the heat with my pretty shoes that aren't good for walking. My clean feet and painted toes got dirty, after I washed them just for this date. I also got sweaty and my hair frizzed. All of this annoyed me. He had better have a good reason for making me walk after he said he'd drive.
Nope. He had no explanation. Nor did he apologize or act apologetic. But he let me sit for a minute before we left so I could cool off. After I cooled down in front of his air conditioner I decided I might be over-reacting. He gave me a glass of ice water. So, I let it go. I wanted to enjoy the evening.
The car tease was the first rude thing HT did that night. It all went downhill from there, deep into a trench of total disregard.
Stayed tuned for more...
Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetically hilarious exploits of me not having sex in the city.
