You may be asking yourself at this point in all of my storytelling, whatever happened to Miss-Adventures’ crush on Nugget? What happened, indeed?
Despite my willingness to reside in the friendzone, my silly, unrequited and sometimes obsessive crush on Nugget continued for weeks … and weeks. It was kind of ridiculous, actually.
We occasionally hung out. I awkwardly pined while she gracefully pretended to not notice. We e-mailed and texted here and there and all the while I was just biding my time and praying that Nugget’s lady-friend (appropriately dubbed by a close friend of mine as “The Obstacle”) would be shown her stage left exit.
That is not to say that I didn’t enjoy getting to know Nugget as a friend – I absolutely did! I knew the very first day we met that I would have her in my world in any capacity she would be comfortable filling. But I would be dishonest if I didn’t say that I had had grander, more romantical fantasies about her role in my life. So, I patiently waited, “nurturing the friendship”, as my ex wife calls, what is essentially, waiting for my turn.
Eventually the time came: The Obstacle was no longer. And I pounced like a cat stalking her prey! But, Miss-Adventures, being the awkward, clumsy, somewhat slow and gimpy version of an over-fed house cat that she is, pounced and missed! What the hell made me think that I could catch this sparkling, shining and rapidly moving target? I hadn’t practiced my stalking in years! I’d been a happily fed, fat and lazy house cat raised on kitty kibble, not at all the agile, lean and clever lioness I needed to be to catch this gazelle.
Ok, so pouncing clearly wasn’t my game. I needed to just be direct. I’m actually very good at direct communication and I appreciate the fine art of complete, yet well-mannered honesty (years and years of therapy, thankyouverymuch). But I also know that how well honesty is received is always a big variable which can either deliver huge rewards or dire consequences.
So after a few attempts and failures at trying to plan a real first date, I finally resorted to absolute directness and asked Nugget if she had any real interest in seeing me. I just had to have a clear answer, otherwise, I could have continued playing (lazy, fat and clumsy) Cat-and-Mouse for far too long. And with as much care, diplomacy and grace as I imagine one could muster, she gently, politely and very clearly let me down.
I was actually impressed. Letting someone down gently is not an easy thing to do and I admired her artful exit. Despite feeling some disappointment, I was not going to cower away or give up our friendship for one second. So I pulled myself up by the bootstraps, cast my minor discouragement aside and proposed that from that day on, we would become the best of friends. Awesome chick that she is: she accepted, and I never looked back or regretted the decision.
Folks, like I said in Nugget (part one), every now and then, under a blue moon and a wide horizon, you meet someone who you know is going to play an integral and pivotal role in your life. Nugget has become my sounding board, my most masterful and creative wing-woman, my go-to online dating guru and platonic bestie. She is, in short (but in fantastic three-inch heels), abso-fucking-lutely fabulous. She is the Thelma to my Louise, the Gayle King to my Oprah Winfrey and the Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte to my Carrie Bradshaw.
Please welcome to the Miss-Adventures Blog-O-Sphere my darling little Nugget (one of less than a handful of recurring characters in my dating misadventures). She deserves a hearty round of applause and absolute adoration.
What are you waiting for, readers? I can’t hear you. Start applauding, goddamnit!
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Thank you, Nugget, for being a shining distraction through my divorce heartache, a new friend to help amuse, enlighten and entertain me, and my all-time favorite online dating guru/partner in crime. This blog is dedicated to you. And I still think you should be the one writing down YOUR stories; you’re a better writer and you have far more interesting and juicy stories to share with the world than I. “I love you more than my luggage, Weezer.” (Not that you would even understand that quote).