mammograms and a martini

The very next day--- which was a Friday, I had to have a routine mammogram which ended up taking THREE hours. And three excruciatingly painful sessions of boob smashing between two bone crushing plastic plates. The culmination of this routine visit was with the radiologist who informed me that she was a bit concerned about all of the little dots of calcification she was seeing.

"Lexie, let me show you this magnified version of your breast. [yes, do you have to rub it in?] You have a lot of calcification which is normal for women of your age who've nursed their children-- and you have VERY dense breasts--- [I FUCKING KNOW THAT!] --- Normally, I don't worry when the deposits are widely scattered as you can see right here. (I couldn't really), but here--- as you can see (barely--- like the faintest of nebulae in a sea of dim stars) is a tiny cluster and that might be the beginnings of something that could be cancerous. The chances are favorable, that it's not, but I don't feel comfortable taking that chance. We could wait six months to see if there's any change, but if there is, it would've been better to take care of it at this very early stage."

huh???

Wait just a red hot minute, I thought. There is NO WAY on this good earth that not only would God give me these teeny tiny 12-yr-old-girl boobies and then on top of that insult to my femininity he would make them sick so that they had to be removed, altogether??? Besides there was no immediate history in my family of breast cancer--- I had given birth to two children AND nursed them for a total of 30 months---ALL were supposed to be huge risk reducers for breast cancer. I have never smoked, never been over-weight, blah, blah, blah...

So, slightly numb to the fact that I could actually be harboring a LIFE THREATENING out of the fucking blue illness, I scheduled a sterotactic breast biopsy and then I went home to make dinner for my dysfunctional son.

The next evening, Elle (my BFF) and I had a glorious picnic at an outdoor local classical music concert where about 400 people were attending and sitting on the grass---very lovely. The orchestra was just so-so with a weak armfartonium (and other like instruments) section which made me think of son one and how he could easily get a gig with this orchestra. The principal bass player was really cute... And at that time, I was trying to reconcile my obsession with the very disappointing composer who when I wrote him that i needed a breast biopsy simply stated. "you'll be fine."

huh???

Like, couldn't he have shown even the tiniest crumb of concern, perhaps? How painful. How very very painful. Narcissists--- the worst.

Elle and I discussed this and we also discussed Bottdam Bigdick Mr. Big, whatever the hell his name really was. (Actually, his real name is a very beautiful name--- possibly my fave male name) :( Elle listened very carefully to the entire story with rapt attention and then... she actually took his side in a way that didn't make me feel badly, at all. She has a way of doing that which is a special talent she possesses. (she would've made a great shrink, but has worked as a secretary at IBM for 35 years. She's 61 now, but could easily be at least 15 years younger--- with NO surgery!) At one point, I just lay flat on the grass--- looking up at the sky and watched the clouds pass--- It was so spiritual and somehow--- I don't know if it was the music, the perfect warm, but not too hot evening--- but I knew that God was with me and I cried a few gentle tears.

Later, Elle actually won a raffle for two FREE tickets to hear the mediocre orchestra in their fall/winter/spring season--- indoors, of course. I was feeling great, by then and all of my pain had disappeared.


By the end of the evening, I started feeling better about Mr. Big and I realized that in my vulnerability and weariness that he could have misconstrued what I had written to him about being a spam BOT as possibly being some kind of a personal attack, which it most certainly wasn't meant to be and I hoped I could make him see that I was just scared and I really hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. If he still didn't get it, then fine... Good riddance!

The next day, I went into Manhattan (with my husband) to hear a beautiful young friend of mine, sing with a fabulous group and the performance was in the same neighborhood where Mr. Big lived and then I started fantasizing that I would run into him on the street. Oh so Hollywood barfola nutso. But that's me!

I know.

The idea really made me so happy and as the day progressed--- I knew that I had to try and see Mr. Big. I just had to try.

So, later that evening, I wrote this really sincere email of further apology and explanation. A few hours later, I heard from him and he responded twice. The first time, to say that thank you, but he would pass. And then an hour later, (he said that he had been at a friend's barbecue) but he had read my email in greater detail and he understood. Still, came the hosting issue, to which I replied--- that surely there must be an inexpensive room somewhere?

By now, it was Monday afternoon and by that evening, 3 days later, he had done a complete turn around. He came up with a place which is well known as a trysting spot on the edge of Manhattan's appropriately named "Meat Packing District."

He wasn't sure of his schedule, and then on Tues. he said that Thursday afternoon would work. Wednesday he suddenly canceled due to "work" and then early Thursday afternoon, he said that after all, he could meet me. We had arranged to meet at a bar about a block away.

By now, I just WANTED him--- and badly.

I know.

At this point in time, I can completely separate myself from the me--- then and go... Are you joking??? You are a wife and a MOTHER and you are going to meet a man, a man that you really have NO idea who the hell he is and you are going to have a drink and then go and have sex with him?

But, yes, that is exactly what I set out to do. I was hurting so badly from my narc composer idiot unlover and on top of it all... I might be dying from a horrible illness, that slowly sucks the life out of a woman. What did I have to lose?

Furthermore, I was 52-- given permission to date, by my husband. My younger son at 13 was okay to stay by himself a few hours. Just put the frozen pizza on auto bake for 5 minutes and then instruct him to take it out of the oven 30 minutes later--- Still warm, but not too hot.

I am quite capable of copious amounts of justification and denial. Combine that with a vivid internal fantasy life--- the likes that make me at times, just a few notches short of institutionalization. All--- are vestiges of an often tumultuous/traumatic childhood.

I did the usual intense 90 minute prep work--- shower, wash hair, blow dry, shave legs, moisturize with a bit of subtle self tanner, vanilla bronzer, a touch of jean nate mixed with this other shit--- Davidoff's cool blue, actually, men's cologne, (well, faggy men's cologne) but I like it--- makeup, just enough-- And off I went in my cute little date outfit. It was a warm day though--- got in my car and turned on my cell which isn't normally on and had a message from Mr. Big! It was just a very normal, very thoughtful confirming message. Very gentlemanly, indeed!

Drove all the way down to 14th St. and parked my car. I was there at 5:07 for our 5:00 rendezvous. perfect timing. I walked into the bar which was appropriately called--- are you ready?

"The Gaslight Lounge" and sitting in the far corner was a youngish man in shorts, t-shirt, sneakers and a baseball cap, but I immediately recognized him and as I came nearer he started smiling, but he did not stand up. He was sitting at a banquette and I sat down next to him on his right and he gave me a smile that completely disarmed me--- (however, I noticed that his cuspid tooth was noticeably quite stained which surprised me.)

"Hiiiiiiiiii... how are you?" he said, instantaneously undressing me with his sexy eyes.

I smiled my own charming smile I've been perfecting since the age of three when he proclaimed back.

"You are gorgeous! :) I really couldn't tell from the pics you sent me. They really don't give you justice at all. You really need some new ones."

I thought he did look very much like his pics, after all, and we joked about him being "real." He was a touch stockier and a bit softer--more boyish-- actually just cuter, all the way around. Really just a very cute/handsome man with laughing eyes and a thick fringe of the blackest longest eyelashes I've ever seen. He had a deep dimple in his chin and he had a head full of straight, dark, shortish hair and later I noticed a few grays, at the temples. I remembered how at 37, (the last time I ever saw my brother, he too, had a bit of gray there as well.)

Mr. Big offered to get me a drink and please don't hate me for this, but I ordered a Cosmo. Now, you CAN hate me for this next part because it was one of the more dumb things I've ever done. He went to get the drink out of my line of vision. But, he was soooooooooooooo damn cute taking the VERY full drink in a Martini glass back to me and trying so hard, not to spill it. I noticed that his legs were muscular and a bit on the stocky side, but a nice shape which pleased me. He was very cute.

He sat down and we had some shallow conversation that I can't remember and then suddenly he apologized and said that he had to make a (business) phone call and then left me alone for about 5 minutes. I was wondering what kind of business he had in NYC where he could dress like he was going to a baseball game and why he didn't bother to make himself look a bit more well--- put together? He told me that he had some bi-coastal food distribution biz, but..........

He came back and apologized sat down for a minute and suddenly drew me close and gave me the most heavenly delicious kiss I had ever received--- He was sooooooooo sweet, with this subtle smokey, ever-so-slightly yeasty flavor that later reminded me of the iced coffee that I so loved, in the summer--- and then suddenly with a sly-seductive smile, he said:

"Common finish your drink--let's go..."

Nervously, I took a big gulp of my half-finished drink and no sooner had I done that when he grabbed the drink from the small table, which was fine as I thought he was going to help me finish it and he did do that alright--- but what he actually did was to simultaneously draw me close into him and then he began to kiss me, my lips slightly parted and suddenly I felt his lovely mouth AND the cool, sweet drink inside my mouth! I know this might sound absolutely disgusting, but at that moment, in my state of anxiety and completely being taken by surprise, it was the most delicious thing that a man had ever done to me and quite erotic...Oh, how starved I was for this kind of attention and here was this absolutely adorable, sexy, delicious young man looking at me with sincere lust and longing in his eyes---He felt the attraction, as well... There was no mistaking the instant intense, chemistry we shared that is either there, or it is not--- and with that he put the now completely drained glass back down on the table--- gently helped me up from my seat, sweetly smiling, he took my hand and we left the bar.