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Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Springsteen, Chicago and Magic in the Night

I've been thinking about this post for a couple of weeks...much longer than usual. Typically, I come up with a topic and write about it immediately. This one lingered for awhile in part because I've been traveling; but also, it's a fairly significant one. September 9th, 2012 was the 3 year anniversary of meeting the woman from Chicago who changed my life forever...and as fate would have it...I found myself in Chicago that weekend, seeing the man who also changed my life forever.  I was there to see Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band play Wrigley Field on Friday the 7th, and again on Saturday the 8th. Because one show isn't enough. 

I had mixed emotions about returning to Chicago for the first time since I had met this woman. And although we actually met in LA, she still maintains a Chicago phone number, and I always thought about taking her to a Springsteen show in her hometown. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam actually came out and performed "My Hometown" with Bruce over the weekend.  Here it is.

In fact, our first date could have easily taken in place in Chicago 3 years ago to see Springsteen, a mere week after we had met. She was already there and I suggested flying in to take her to the show, but she didn't seem too excited about going to see my man at the time. Plus, I suspected she was in Chicago visiting her on the fence boyfriend, at the time.

This woman aside, I've been a fan of Chicago since the first time I traveled there years ago.  Frank Sinatra's not the only one from Jersey who thinks the Windy City is his kind of town. At least, anytime it's not winter there.

Not only have I always had a great time in the city, but over the years I've met a lot of women from there, and while there, that have been "into" me. I don't know what it is that's made me sort of a Chicago Playboy, but maybe I should take it up with the original Chi-town lady killer, Mr. Hugh Hefner.  At any rate, Chicago's been very, very good to me.

And this weekend was no exception.  Unlike most women in my life, Bruce never disappoints. It's one of the many things I love about the guy. No matter how high the expectations, he finds a way to surpass them. He's an inspiring, magical man.  If I could find a woman to light up my life as much he does, I'd be the happiest guy in the world.  I've often thought that woman from 3 years ago was just that woman. The incredible disappointment in discovering she was not is why I've been so affected.

I flew in Thursday night and met up with some long time Springsteen friends for drinks, so didn't really hit the town. Friday's show went so long and so late I was starving by the time it ended and didn't have the energy to first go out at 1am. So that left Saturday. Last night.  Show again was incredible, despite the heavy rain and eventual downpour at the end, shortly before midnight and my pending "anniversary."

You'll never find me in a better mood or shining in a brighter light than right before I'm going to see Bruce...obviously during the show....and then again, right after. If you're around me during these times you'll see. It's like I've got this magic glow about me that instantly attracts women. I've "hooked up" with several after Bruce shows, whether I went to the show with them, or just met them afterward.

With the downpour and a mad rush of people to catch the train, I decided to pop into one of the bars across the street from Wrigley to dry out, and grab a drink. I had lost my group in the transition out of the stadium. I was on my own. Same thing had happened to the woman I immediately met at the bar. She was cute, wet...and drunk.  The Man's Trifecta.  

I've said this before, my post Springsteen glow aside, women who like me, like me instantly. There's no confusing or wondering if she's into me. I know right away. And so do they. Maybe it's because I have such a strong personality and they either respond or they don't....I'm about as black and white kind of guy as it gets. I'm pretty certain it has nothing to do with my physical looks; otherwise I'd have had more opportunities than normal.  Whatever the case, this one, was clearly "into me."

She had me Facebook request her before I even finished my first drink. In fact, that was the only drink I had here. She got a text from her sister wondering where the hell she was...the sister was back at the hotel...downtown...where I was also staying, so she suggested I take a cab back with her to her hotel. OK. Fine by me. We knew each other about 20 minutes by this point.  Hailing a cab would prove to be more difficult. We ended up sharing with another random couple who had also gone to the show. Let me just also say that if you're not interested in getting laid after you've been to a Springsteen show, check your pulse, you may not be alive.

So, as soon as we get into the cab with the other couple, the other woman, starts inquiring how we know each other and if we're dating. When my girl says we just met the other woman says something about it being fate or something, and how this being a great night and all, I'm totally going to have sex with her. She actually said, "Oh, you guys are going to have sex tonight." See I told you...Bruce brings out the freaking. He rocks. It was pretty hilarious, although my girl insisted that was not going to happen because she's "Canadian. And we're not like that." That was just as funny because she just gave the Canadian version of the American version of women proclaiming, "I never do things like this."

Keep in mind, this was the first night in awhile that I was actively seeking some pussy. I suppose a lot of factors were at play, Chicago, the Anniversary, Bruce, it's not like I haven't gotten "any" in 3 years...I have....but only when it's fallen into my lap...never because I was on a mission or "trying."  And so, once again, I found a woman who fell into my lap....even though I was totally prepared to put forth effort on this night. I was on the hunt. Turns out it was a very very brief hunt. So that whole myth about something happens when you least expect it to is total bullshit. I was totally expecting to hook up Saturday night...someway, somehow. After all, I knew I had Chicago and Bruce on my side. That's a lethal  double combo.

We make it back to her hotel, and get ready for this's directly across the street from the hotel where I'm staying.  I mean right across the street. Of all the hotels in the city we just happened to be staying next to each other. Anyone who doesn't believe in weird cosmic events or "fate" is kidding themselves. I'm not saying there's a God or angels or anything heavy like that...I'm just saying there's some things you just can't explain with "It was a coincidence."  There's something mysteriously spiritual about the ways of the universe.  Haven't you all seen the film Fools Rush In????   It's also why the date on which I met the woman from 3 years ago, 9/9/9, completely messed with my head.  I'll leave it at that.

Actually, I won't. I came home for the Jewish New Year Holiday this week and my Dad gave me one of his ties to borrow for services. So, I'm tying it, and I flip it around and notice the brand on the back of the tie. Madison. "Her" last name. Happy Fucking New Year!

I digress. Back to the Windy City...which actually wasn't very windy at all. Perfect weather, except for the rain tonight. Although, it ended up being kind of perfect in its own way.

We go right up to her room where she changes out of her wet clothes, throws on a sexy black dress and drops a baby black Springsteen tank over the top of it. That's my kind of girl. Now, she's playing it a little coy, still acting like we're not going to do anything like "that". And her sister and friend are waiting in the room next door for her. Well, maybe so, but I'm not having any of that. I press her some. Tell her I know she wants to kiss me. She smiles."One kiss and then you can tell me you don't want to." She smiles again. Checkmate.

If there's nothing else I'm confident about, it's knowing I'm an awesome kisser. Not a good one. Not a great one. But an awesome one. Firm. And soft. Right Tiffany? LOL. (That's an inside joke. And for the record, Tiffany and I never kissed. She had no interest.)

We kiss. While she's obviously into it, she insists we go see her sister. Now! Fine. I pass that test. I get past  her pants. Dress. Whatever.  I realize I may be coming off a bit flip-id here or "piggish", but I'm really just writing it like this for humor's sake. I thought she was a very cool chick...yes I was attracted to her...yes I wanted to have sex with her...but nothing was done with any malice or intentions other than love and pure joy...just as Bruce would have wanted it.

So the sister's pissed! She's all like "We waited for you. Where did you go? Blah blah blah. No we're not going out. We're wet. We're cold,. And we're going to be bed." Fuck me. What a Buzzkill. However, to my surprise, she tells my girl, "If you want to go out. Go ahead. Do what you want." Fuck yeah. Test passed.

We go back to her room briefly to find out the sister is actually sharing the King bed with my girl...Oh, fuck me. I'm sharing a room with two older woman I'm friendly with. I can't take a girl back there.  Damn. I try not to think about what I'm going to do. Cross that bridge later.

We head out down the street, pop into a bar when she hears some Kid Rock playing, and sit down at the bar for a drink. I pay. I'm a gentlemen. Then I go to kiss her again. And this time...she's really into it. I can't exactly remember when she revealed she had some man in her life who she was unhappy with...story of my do I end up always meeting women who are unhappy with who they're with? Why am I the one they're attracted to? And why do they continue to stay with those men when they're clearly so infatuated with me? I've got quite the curse going here. More universe shit. I'll have to ask my therapist about that one next week.

We eventually walk out of the bar holding hands...up to the Chicago river....which makes me think about my last post about romance in New York. Next to New York, Chicago is the next best thing for romance and love. Any picturesque city you can walk and take public transportation is going to be more romantic than a valet pulling your car up and handing your keys back. Love stinks in LA.

She's starting to get cold and wants to hop a cab back to her hotel...sure no problem. We kiss some in the cab, take into the lobby and toward the elevator bank. Now I'm thinking, fuck, I'm gonna have to get a hotel room here, aren't I?  Some people attempt to ride the elevator with us, but I quickly dismiss them. I tell them, "Sorry, this one's just for us. You'll have to take the next one." They do.

Before the elevator door even closes she's wrapped around me. We're all over each other. We reach her floor. I tell her we're not done. I press the 1st floor button again. We're going down. I act like I'm going to go down too. She's going wild, but says "No we can't. No." This continues for the next 20 minutes or so, riding up and down the elevator, alternating between pushing buttons to random floors and her telling me how much she wants to fuck me. She tells me how much she loved how I took control of the elevator and told those people it was "ours." It turned her on so much.

Love in an elevator. Never done it. However, I have met a woman in a hotel elevator before and went out for a drink with her that night. I've picked up a woman on a plane, a woman working behind a ticket booth window, a woman driving in her car who was following me and then pulled up alongside me at a stoplight, a woman who was selling tickets on the street (not a scalper, just a regular person), a waitress, a bartender, a flight attendant (this one wasn't even from my flight but my buddy's who was walking out the airport with her when I went to pick him up...within 5 minutes the flight attendant was giving me her number), a woman in line at a late night pizza spot (45 minutes later we were making out on her couch, some 15 minutes after that we were naked in her bed)...where was I?

Oh yes, the elevator. Would have had sex with this one in it. I say "would" because she wasn't going to let it happen. These were glass elevators. Did I mention that one?  I did get my fingers inside her for a moment. That was it. We exit. On the floor below hers.

I suggest we find a quiet, isolated spot. We walk down the hall.  I was actually thinking the stairs to the roof, but we end up in a narrow hall just outside a couple of rooms. I push her against the wall. She's completely turned on. We gradually slide down to the floor. She's still telling how much she wants to fuck me. And how she hasn't felt this kind of passion in 10 years and how sexy I am. She tells me she's going to orgasm. And to put my fingers inside her. She's riding on top of me. Asking me to pretend I'm fucking her. She wants me to cum. I tell her, "I'm not going to. Not like this." She gets off and I continue on her. Lifting her dress up, or down...not sure how I got to her breasts, but I did...fully exposed, I kiss and caress her.  I loosen my belt and open my pants. She quickly pulls my shirt over "it", grins, and then insists, "I am not going to fuck you."

She notices my wristbands from the concert still attached to my wrist. She inquires about them. They're from the "pit". She tells me she would have blown me if I had gotten her in there. She's not fucking me. And she's also not blowing me. In fun, I grab her hair and tell her I'm taking a picture. She's laughing and covers her face just as I take it.

We mess around a bit more until I accept the reality. She's not going to fuck me. So I do what I need to do. I do exactly what Miss Madison wanted to me to do. And in fact, had requested of me 3 years ago to do to her. I masturbate onto her. Under her dress. In the hall. On the floor. She helps some. She likes it. A lot. 

I'd tell you the hotel, but there may still be some DNA left behind, so I reveal nothing more. Ha.

And oh by the way, she really is Canadian and still lives there. Who knows if we'll see each other again. If we do, it'll probably be at a Springsteen show. And speaking of Bruce...I'm listening to E Street Radio right now and the song "I'm going down" is playing...Nice.

Monday, September 3, 2012

A New York Love Affair

I currently live in Los Angeles, previously lived in New York City; and after recently visiting there, I can unequivocally say love blossoms in New York....and dies in LA.

New York City is far more romantic, beautiful, inspiring....and most importantly, passionate.  Everywhere you look there's something special to see, touch....smell. A casual stroll through Central Park or along the Hudson River on a sun splashed afternoon will offer the best in New York romance. Young lovers holding hands or kissing on a park bench or resting in each other's arms on a grassy patch are seemingly all around.  In Los Angeles, you have to search far and wide to find anyone who resembles a couple in love. Why is that? 

Is it because in the city of angels no one declares anything with conviction or certainty? Everyone operates on a "maybe". In other words, all options remain on the table, so you better not fall in love.  LA is a soulless town of make believe and insincerity. It's fake. Nothing is real. Not even the beautiful blue sky which arrives via smog filled air and Hollywood special effects (must be right?) is legit.  Truth be told, people in Los Angeles care more about their "credits" than they do their "hearts". If Los Angeles is all about the individual then New York is all about us. Two hearts are better than one. And New York understands that more than any place in the country.

LA is the unsure sister to New York's determined brother. She's fragile, mysterious and confused, while he's aggressive, persistent, courageous and open. Her knows what he wants and doesn't hold back. He just goes for it.

Film and TV have long romanticized New York.  All you have to do is visit once and you'll understand  the reasons with Hollywood's fascination with its coastal counterpart. Here's some "real" loving snapshots I took on my recent trip.

Actually, this one was taken in Los Angeles!  But only further proves my point. Even in LA people are loving NYC!

And then there's this classic signage shot I took in New York to flirt with a girl I was texting with in LA........ 

I sent her the photo before we ever went out, while I was visiting New York. Her last name was Madison.  She thought it was funny and liked it a lot...I was trying in my own charming way to be romantic....that's what New York brings out of you. At any rate...when we did eventually go out the sign must have worked.  Sparks flew between us and it turned out to be the most enjoyable first date I ever had...she even held my hand as we walked down the street to my car after we had a long make-out session in hers....and this took place in LA if you can believe it!  But as LA is, this romance was d.o.a.  She killed it before ever giving us a chance. Perhaps if we had gone out in New York we'd still be dating.

While women may like to believe they're the "romantic"'s usually up to the man to make the romance. Plan the day, set the mood, etc.....Woman want to be romanced, but men are the ones actually doing it. So I ask, where do you romance in LA? "The Grove?" Malibu at sunset? A hike through a canyon? Hardly.  Nothing compares to losing yourself in a park in New York or night. 

I once flew to New York specifically for a first date...lunch, early evening walk through the park. We ended up on a bench under a lamp post when a light rain began to fall. It was an only in New York kind of day.

If you love New York it will most certainly love you back. Take it from a guy who knows.