Originally posted on 06/05/2005 12:12pm
It's Sunday morning and I have a stiff neck. By the time you read this, it will no longer be Sunday morning, but I bet I'll still have a stiff neck. I don't know how these things happen. I go to bed sleeping in one position and wake up in pretty close to the same position. Yet, for reasons unknown to me, muscle groups gang up while I sleep and decide to go on strike. So, today, I move through the world looking to the left. Looking to the right is just too painful. "What's that smell?" you ask. Aaah, that would be extra-strength Ben Gay. Lovely. I'd really like to have a neck rub or massage.
When I think of massages, I think of another one of my internet dating disasters. This time, it's 1998. I met "R" on a "friendship only" message board on AOL. He had just moved to the city from a nearby county and had just started a "really good job" in the computer field. I was just looking for someone to write to... and "if it develops into more, then so be it." That's what I told "R." The one thing I remember most about "R" was that he was really really into massages. Giving masages. No matter what I'd tell him about my day, he'd find a way to offer me a massage. "I had to work over today," I'd write. "Hey, did I tell you that I give a mean massage?" he'd write back. "I broke a nail today," I'd write. "Hey, you sound like you need a massage, " he'd offer. It became almost a joke to me because no matter how bizarre of a day I'd tell him I had, he'd offer up that massage. The longer we wrote, the more involved the massage offer would be. At first, it was just an "innocent" neck rub. Then, a back rub. Then, lunch and a back rub. Then, a swim in his pool, lunch and a back rub. Then, it would be dinner, a movie and... yes, a back rub. "You can even keep your underwear on, " he offered up once. OK, I know, where's the "disaster"? Well, after 4 months of writing him, I only knew that he was into computers, fresh out of the Army, liked to sing and wanted to give me a back rub. Oh, I also knew his home town and his full name. That was it. We hadn't connected on any level that made me want to go over to his place and yank off my top for a back rub. Then, one day, I was at my part time job telling a co-worker about "R" and she asked me what his last name was. I told her. She said, "You're not going to believe this, but I went to high school with him!" I asked her if he was so ... persistent.. in high school and she said, "Call his bluff! I know this guy. He's afraid of his own shadow. If you were to say yes to him, he'd probably pee his pants." So, that night, when I got home and sent "R" an email about how long my day had been, I added, "A back rub would really be nice. Maybe we really should meet." I didn't hear back from him for days. Then, he sent me the e-mail that most nice guys use when they want to end things but don't want to just come out and say it. "I'm going to busy for awhile..." he said and then a few months later, he sent me another e-mail that he was moving to Florida. I never heard from him again. The thing is... the more my co-worker told me about him, the more wonderful he sounded to me. (shrug) Guess he didn't want to go through life as "the nice guy". Guess he wanted to be known as "the back rub guy."
It's Sunday morning and I have a stiff neck. By the time you read this, it will no longer be Sunday morning, but I bet I'll still have a stiff neck. I don't know how these things happen. I go to bed sleeping in one position and wake up in pretty close to the same position. Yet, for reasons unknown to me, muscle groups gang up while I sleep and decide to go on strike. So, today, I move through the world looking to the left. Looking to the right is just too painful. "What's that smell?" you ask. Aaah, that would be extra-strength Ben Gay. Lovely. I'd really like to have a neck rub or massage.
When I think of massages, I think of another one of my internet dating disasters. This time, it's 1998. I met "R" on a "friendship only" message board on AOL. He had just moved to the city from a nearby county and had just started a "really good job" in the computer field. I was just looking for someone to write to... and "if it develops into more, then so be it." That's what I told "R." The one thing I remember most about "R" was that he was really really into massages. Giving masages. No matter what I'd tell him about my day, he'd find a way to offer me a massage. "I had to work over today," I'd write. "Hey, did I tell you that I give a mean massage?" he'd write back. "I broke a nail today," I'd write. "Hey, you sound like you need a massage, " he'd offer. It became almost a joke to me because no matter how bizarre of a day I'd tell him I had, he'd offer up that massage. The longer we wrote, the more involved the massage offer would be. At first, it was just an "innocent" neck rub. Then, a back rub. Then, lunch and a back rub. Then, a swim in his pool, lunch and a back rub. Then, it would be dinner, a movie and... yes, a back rub. "You can even keep your underwear on, " he offered up once. OK, I know, where's the "disaster"? Well, after 4 months of writing him, I only knew that he was into computers, fresh out of the Army, liked to sing and wanted to give me a back rub. Oh, I also knew his home town and his full name. That was it. We hadn't connected on any level that made me want to go over to his place and yank off my top for a back rub. Then, one day, I was at my part time job telling a co-worker about "R" and she asked me what his last name was. I told her. She said, "You're not going to believe this, but I went to high school with him!" I asked her if he was so ... persistent.. in high school and she said, "Call his bluff! I know this guy. He's afraid of his own shadow. If you were to say yes to him, he'd probably pee his pants." So, that night, when I got home and sent "R" an email about how long my day had been, I added, "A back rub would really be nice. Maybe we really should meet." I didn't hear back from him for days. Then, he sent me the e-mail that most nice guys use when they want to end things but don't want to just come out and say it. "I'm going to busy for awhile..." he said and then a few months later, he sent me another e-mail that he was moving to Florida. I never heard from him again. The thing is... the more my co-worker told me about him, the more wonderful he sounded to me. (shrug) Guess he didn't want to go through life as "the nice guy". Guess he wanted to be known as "the back rub guy."
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