And Then I Fell in Love with Two Strangers at the Same Time and It Was This Whole Thing

So the other day on my commute into the city for work, I was kind of involved in a sordid ménage à trois.

It started off innocently enough, with a single Twitter-documented romance:

Screen shot 2012-12-09 at 10.09.27 PM

And then it quickly became a soap opera. But I’m getting ahead of myself, so allow me to backtrack for just a moment.

After I sent that last tweet, I quickly assigned my new love interest an imaginary identity in which:

  • he moved to Connecticut from somewhere in Ireland when he was a child,
  • eventually got his MBA at Columbia,
  • now works in finance,
  • and, while on our train ride together, was en route to the city for a job interview with a company that’s trying to schmooze him into leaving his current six-figure gig,

because he’s that sought-after.

As his book rested on my knee, I may or may not have had a (totally awake) dream sequence involving us going into the train bathroom together.

This proved to be a big mistake, because:

  1. it was really just wrong on a number of levels, and
  2. those bathrooms are tiny and disgusting, so
  3. there’s a good chance he would have dropped his inhaler into the toilet while we were consummating our relationship,
  4. and then the fantasy turned into a nightmare when it ended with him having a post-train-sex asthma attack and was forced to save himself with a disgusting train-passenger-waste-infected inhaler, and
  5. it was all my fault.

Sometime around #4 is when I realized that I really need to save me from myself. (Are post-train-sex asthma attacks even a thing? If you’ve ever dated someone with asthma, please share your thoughts below, as I’d like to be prepared for what my future holds with Irish Job Seeker.)

Anyway. What I didn’t mention in the above tweets is that I was actually sitting in the middle of Irish Job Seeker and another suited businessman of about thirty whom I will refer to as Sexy Elbow Man, because he happened to fall asleep with his elbow digging into my left side — and that’s when I fell in love with him too — and I think I need to stop telling this story right now, because I can’t decide if it’s making me look like the creepiest person ever or just the most desperate (I think creepiest is winning so far, but not by much), but it’s definitely not making me look like someone who should be allowed to exist in society unmonitored.

Regardless, I think you’ll agree that between Irish Job Seeker’s book on my knee and Sexy Elbow Man’s elbow in my side, the whole thing was pretty much an intense train-threesome.

Who knew I was into that?

P.S. While I’d like to think these men kept touching me because I’m irresistible, my low self-esteem is inclined to believe that it’s probably more so because my fatness takes up so much space that they simply couldn’t make a single move without inadvertently making contact with some body part of mine. But whatever, I’ll take what I can get at this point.

P.P.S. Judging from that last sentence, it looks like most desperate is the winner!

P.P.P.S. “Winner” is definitely not the right word. There are clearly no winners in this blog post.

P.P.P.P.S. …except for Irish Job Seeker. He’s obviously at a high point in both his personal life and career, having train-threesomes and being schmoozed by competing employers and all. He is a winner.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I just remembered about the post-train-sex asthma attack, and we’re back to having no winners.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I’m finally done.

 

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Comments

  1. Train sex? That sounds like some… Risky Business.

    (Is that reference too old? Too obscure? Too Tom Cruise?)

  2. You are a gay male Bridget Jones….and I always want you to write more. Have you read James Thurber’s Walter Mitty short story? You have some of him in you, as well! xoxox

  3. It’s okay, I have an IKEA boyfriend. We met… at an IKEA fittingly enough. I was recruited to be the big burly manly man who carried all the furniture for one of my friends (really wish I was kidding about that). He went into the IKEA first, but as my friend and I shopped, he kept showing up behind us, probably because he didn’t wanna get too far ahead and risk never seeing me again. It all ended when we got to the silverware and cups and stuff, but we were in the same aisle and I made a joke to my friend and IKEA boyfriend laughed at my joke. Clearly that was him proposing.

    … no, seriously, I’m not comfortable with how elaborate my lies to myself are getting

    • HE LAUGHED AT A JOKE? If I ever got that much validation from a hot male stranger, I don’t even want to know what I’d be capable of. I admire your (assumed) restraint!

  4. magicpoetry says:

    This just reminded me of a doctor I once had 7 years ago (really, it was just at this one shift he had at the hospital while I was there sick and awful, but anyway…) and we only saw each other for a maximum of 5 seconds before I decided he’ll be my future husband and we’ll have 4 kids.

    It later turned out he was German. Yet, despite how much I dislike the German language AND accent, his was incredibly cute! He was charming, obviously intelligent, and … he was married and had a child on the way, but never mind that.

    I don’t remember how or why he even mentioned the kid and wifey–maybe cuz I kept thinking he was too good to be true and hence had to be gay and he secretly was a mind reader.

    BUT!

    One of the following nights I woke up in the middle of the night and I felt a hand on my shoulder. Bare shoulder. And the next thing I know is I’m staring into these gorgeous, blue eyes of kindness and … I startle.

    “Oh did I wake you?” He asked and quickly stepped away.

    Well, duh. But, by all means, you can wake me ANY TIME.

    I chose to believe he had to remind himself on the fact that he was married and was expecting a child cuz he obviously realized he and I was supposed to be together for all time.

    So. SEM and IJS probably both wanted you and both had to make their touches completely coincidental.

    I say: You go, man! 😉

    • HAND ON BARE SHOULDER? I wouldn’t be able to handle such a clear declaration of love without peeing a little. Glad you can relate so much to this post!

  5. I just had an asthma attack from laughing, and I’M NOT EVEN ASTHMATIC. The postscripts really pushed me over the edge.
    So just a reminder: Always make sure to empty your pockets of all essentials such as inhalers, eyeglasses, etc, before consumating imaginary relationships with sexy strangers in train bathrooms. No one wants to explain to the ER nurse how they probably got a respiratory infection from aspirating toilet water after train bathroom sex.

    • Haha YES! So glad I could induce asthma attacks and educate the world on the importance of pocket-emptying before train-rendezvous(‘s? I should Google “the plural of rendezvous” right now, but am too lazy to tab over to the search bar)… Thank you for the comment!!

Trackbacks

  1. […] I listened to Mariah Carey’s Glitter-era gem, “Lead the Way,” while eating Chipotle and commuting home from work one day, and was severely disillusioned to realize that there’s a moment in the song where she […]

  2. […] is insane because one) I have already written extensively on the subject of falling in love with hot suited strangers during my daily commute on the Metro-North train, two) I once even blogged about a fantasy sequence […]

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