My giant…meets me (#5)

continued from My Giant…Loses his livelihood (#4)

Friday comes; I work from home in the morning and decide to leave early to drive to his town.  Commuting traffic in my city is a nightmare and if you try to get out of downtown after 2pm on a Friday you are completely screwed.  I love to drive so I left early, put on my tunes (I sing in my car all the time) until I had to dial into a conference call for work.

Before I left, I realized I had a lot of cheeses and meats and other treats left over from a party I’d had that week.  I figured it would be a nice gesture to build some of the picnic we talked about having in the hotel room.  Because I didn’t want the hassle of washing strawberries in a bathroom sink, I washed, prepped, and cut everything that we needed.  Packed cheese knives and plates.  I put together a lovely spread, including a bottle of Perrier, red wine, and proscecco.

I was excited.We had agreed that I would pick him up from his office (on his last day – eek!) and it was an unspoken assumption that he would stay the night with me in the hotel room.

Leaving when I did, traffic was fine, and I got to the hotel before my conference call was over.  Juggling my bags and the mute button on my phone and ensuring I was listening in case someone asked me a question, I managed to check in to the room.  I put away the proscecco and Perrier in the fridge, took off my boring tights and put on garters, a thong, and stockings under my dress, finished off with riding boots.  He had let it slip that garters were a bit of a fetish for him – I happen to love wearing them but it was really bloody cold out that day.  Still, I wanted it to be a nice surprise even if I was risking frostbite in my nether regions.

It was time to pick him up.  I was driving into the sun without sunglasses and as a result went zipping by his office. I get a text: “I think you just drove by me”.  Yup, I’m a loser.  Managed to get myself turned around and pull the car in and there he is.  Shit, he is really really really tall.  Big.  In a hat.  Handsome like his photos. Wearing those badass motorcycle boots with the round ring buckle on the side.  I get out of the car to say hello, give him a quick hug and jump back in.  I watch him try to squeeze himself into my car, which is a station wagon and I always thought was roomy.  He looks terribly uncomfortable.

He suggests we stop at the grocery store to pick up some stuff.  I mention that I have already brought some things but we need a baguette.  Off we go.  Ten minutes into the date and we are wandering around a grocery store together.  It might be terrible to say but usually I don’t worry too much about how much groceries cost.  It’s not like I’m buying caviar and extreme things…so if I want a nice baguette and some chips and a BBQ chicken and whatever else, I just get it.  I’m conscious that he’s not making decisions about what to get – he’s worried about getting something I will like.  It’s mildly irritating.

We are playing the:

  • “what about that kind of bread?”
  • “sure that sounds great is that what you want?”
  • “yeah, if you like it”

kind of game which I have about 1 minute of patience for.  I want to yell “Please just make a decision! show me what you like!” but I resist.  It doesn’t help that he isn’t familiar with the grocery store so we circle the deli section a few times to find something.

Eventually it all gets sorted and we get the food – he pays.  We go to the hotel.  I stop my car and notice that suddenly all of these warning lights go on.  Suspension (it has a suspension that can be raised and lowered depending how fast you are going), anti-lock break system, and something else that I couldn’t decipher.

Hmm.  He reviews the manual and asks me a couple of questions, firmly establishing that for a smart girl I’m pretty ignorant about my car.  I feel like an idiot telling him that basically I just take it to the dealership and do what they suggest.  Normally I wouldn’t feel bad about this, because admittedly there are lots of things I do myself, but knowing that for him it’s partly a money issue, just makes me feel bad.  He promises to look some things up for me later on what the problem could be.

We go to the room, coats come off and he grabs me and gives me a big, enveloping hug.  His chin rests on the top of my head. He’s like a barrel on top – not slender but doesn’t seem chunky.  It feels nice.  By now it’s probably only about 5pm.  He is astounded at the picnic I brought.  He tells me he’s extraordinarily touched at the effort – that normally it’s something he would be doing and he’s never had a woman do something like that for him before.

Now, I can’t possibly imagine the assortment of selfish witches he must have been dating all this time, were that true.  It seems like a little thing to me, but it’s not to him.  It stands in stark contrast to my ex telling me for all these years how selfish I was (we were both equally convinced that the other one was the selfish one…it was just one of those things).  I think perhaps he’s already feeling vulnerable because of his job situation, and then I do this nice thing for him.  I say thank you and shrug it off.

We talk on the couch.  He has a habit of monologing.  Doesn’t ask me too many questions about myself.  I had hoped that perhaps it was just on the phone, but nope.  In person it was happening as well.  I would squeeze in some conversation and sometimes I felt like he wasn’t really listening to me.  I think he’s actually got some hearing loss – probably from riding around on the vintage Harley all these years.  I chalk it up to nervousness and the Harley.

We drink some wine, eat some cheese, and then at some point we are standing up at the same time and he comes over and kisses me.  It’s a lovely kiss.  Weird because he has this chin strap goatee and a mustache and I haven’t kissed anyone with a mustache in god knows how long.  I can feel him smiling even though we are kissing so I ask him what he’s smiling about. He says thank goodness I’m a fantastic kisser…bad kissers can ruin things.  I know exactly what he means.

I feel that familiar tug throughout my body and I know we are just getting started.

It’s not even dark out yet.

[Part Six]

0 thoughts on “My giant…meets me (#5)

  1. I loved this post and I’m glad you had what appears to be a lovely evening, but… You didn’t get a bellman? What the frak?
    I hope your world was rocked to its core!

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