The New M.E. Generation











My friend wasn’t done for the day just yet, so he suggested me going to the cafeteria for a snack and meet again an hour later.

I was still freaking out from my last few minutes, but I was sort of hungry, so off I went.

The cafeteria wasn’t that complicated to locate. It was in an open space and everyone there was sitting at the tables studying. This was great, now I can finally ‘blend in’.

I also felt good that my friend was in this school. I was confident that he would be fine not only today, but on whatever he set out to do.

I bought myself a hot dog and soda. I went looking for a table to sit down, but they were all taken, so the only thing to do was to share one.

I glanced at all of them and chose one in a corner with a guy that was very busy in his studies. I thought this was the best option; he’ll keep his attention in his books (not on me), I’ll eat and then leave.

I walked with my tray and politely asked him, “Do you mind if I sit down here?”

The guy moved his head up without taking his eyes off his book as to reply, ‘yeah, whatever’. But when he really saw me, his head quickly went up again, the eyes opened wide, and his mouth opened in a gasp as if an apparition had just became present in front of him. He probably thought I was one of the so-called ‘dogs’.

I freaked out again. I guess that’s a ‘yes’? I sat down slowly and started eating with the best manners I could display. I didn’t want this ‘chick’ with a ‘dog’ turning into one of those school ‘dogs’.

The guy continued staring at me with the same face. I told him that I was visiting from out of state, was here for Spring Break for the first time, etc.

I kept talking on and on like any girl would do. He just kept the same way, speechless, and completely ignoring his studies.

I really took my time to eat and when I was done, I got up with my tray and said, “thank you so much; I have to go now.”

The guy’s face turned into one of sadness and muttered the only word of the day, “why??”

Now I was feeling sorry for leaving, but flattered for a second time in a little over an hour.

The guy’s facial expression was now one of, ‘please don’t go’, and I couldn’t bring myself into leaving.

And then, in the distance, by the entrance of the cafeteria, I saw my friend and said, “my friend’s here; thanks again”.

I walked to my friend, still holding the tray. “Hi,” I said to him. “I was having a bite at that table over there.” I looked back and pointed with my head as if I had done something wrong. The guy now had a face of, “damn him!” I think my friend noticed and somewhat laughed.

Looking back, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but was respecting my friend’s hospitality, even if I didn’t felt attracted to him. It never crossed my mind of making a move with that other guy.

Second, all this attention about my looks was very nice, but has also created some sort of wall in front of me. It’s pleasant to be told you’re pretty, but when I hear it too many times, it makes me wonder if the guy means it or is using this opportunity to get something else from me. In other words, thank you for your nice words, but what else have you got to say?

Call it shyness or whatever you want. All I will say is this, there was always some universal force circling that was holding me back of going any further with my friend. Back then I couldn’t understand it, but now it’s as clear as a starry night.

It would be years later when our worlds would collide to forever change us. It’s like a meteor that leaves a dent on the ground when it hits. The heat may end and the surface heals, but the hole within will always remain as that, whole.

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And the connections kept on coming. But this time I wanted to connect with a guy I had known since my adolescent years which who I had lost touch with all together.

The last time I saw him I was with my ‘x’ back home eating at a deli when I bumped into him. I had not seen him for at least 10 years.

When I saw him again we were quite happy to see each other. I introduced him to ‘that guy’ and he gave me his business card. After I got back to ‘the city’, I misplaced the card or something and didn’t follow-up on contacting him.

Probably more like I putted the card away and forgot about it. My ‘x’ had an issue with me reconnecting with guys from my past, regardless if they had been just that, friends.

It didn’t matter if those former friends were a thousand miles away and I would probably never get to see them again. That guy I was married to with was so insecure, he felt threatened by them, but on what?

I mean, my ‘x’ was unhappy with me for many things, personal and physical. So instead of taking those feelings and figured it out and/or resolved them for the better, he would instead tell me he didn’t like me being friends with any guy.

My ‘x’ was such a jerk that what he was communicating was that he didn’t trust me, and I had to cut ties with others so I would ‘deviate’ from him.

He accomplished that and much more by isolating me and giving up my friendships, and what I represented for myself at that time.

I did not contact this former friend, which I later regretted. After the separation occurred, I confronted my ‘x’.

“You have no idea how much damaging that was to me you saying I had to cut ties with former guy friends,” said I.

He gave me a look of not knowing what I was talking about. Of course, he was never wrong at anything, only me.

“Who the hell you think you were to tell me who I can or can not be friends with?”

His eyes were wide open and a face he was freaking out. He had never seen or hear me this, finally standing up for myself.

“Guess what? I am friends now with all of them.”

“I don’t remember,” said he, “but all I can say is that I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not!” said I, “You’re saying that now because you’ve always been in denial. If you had been sorry or cared about so many other issues, things would have been a lot more different.”

My ‘x’ lowered his face and eyes. I hope he feels guilty for a long time. But, unfortunately, he’s emotionally retarded, meaning he doesn’t get it. But at least I finally told him how I felt.



Oh, no, the bar is the one that I’ve come across one of those past guys that resurfaced ages later when I thought I would never cross path with ever again. I don’t know why I felt somewhat nervous about going there because when I saw that guy I’m referring to, I was talking to another guy and I completely ignored him.

The other guy even waved at me and I did to him with a ‘blah’ face of ‘oh, it’s you,’ and kept talking to the guy I was with. On top of that, I was nicely dressed (which the guy let me know), and I think I handled it pretty well.

So what’s the big deal? It’s to my advantage that someone from my past sees me next to another guy. But I know I will still be somewhat nervous. I don’t want to pretend being someone I’m not or start acting as if Alex is my current significant other. I’m having a good time tonight and I just want it to continue that way.

We got to the bar and (thank goodness), there was no one there I knew (guys I mean). This made me feel at ease. We ordered drinks and toasted to a great evening (so far).

I was curious to know how I was fairing out tonight, but I was not going to make that mistake; getting somewhat lost was enough. So, instead, I asked him if he could expand on his other dating experiences.

“You wouldn’t believe the other women,” said he. “One was completely shallow. Halfway through the date I just wanted to end it. She even asked me if we could meet again and I gave her a sarcastic face of ‘yeah, I will call you.’

The worst one was this woman who was in my car. She was so wasted she opened the car window, started screaming while flashing her boobs. She didn’t lift the bra at least. But I was driving, totally freaking out, while pulling her back into the seat.

What about you? Any crazy stories?”

I couldn’t answer anything right away. Instead, I had to think really hard because all I could remember were mostly sad ones.

Crazy? Well, maybe the infamous 2:00am call from Erik (please see ‘The Swedish Massage’), or the time I drove to the fire station to find Bryan or when he came to pick me up to go the beach and had just saved his head (‘You Can Be My Hero’), or perhaps the ‘Pirate’ incident at the resort (‘A Spring Break in the Fall’).

Yeah, they were crazy in my own understanding, but not as bad as what this guy had gone through.

Some time later, the bar was getting ready to close, so we had to wrap up for the night. We looked at each other with a puzzled face of ‘are we seeing each other again?’ and ‘who is supposed to ask that question?’

Alex took the first step. “I had a great time and was wondering if you would like to meet again?”

“Yes, I would.” Finally, a second date! I don’t recall this happening before. Hopefully this will lead to something good. “Do you mind walking me to my car?” In other words, you are nice and I trust you enough to let you do that.



The day of the date finally arrived and, as usual, I started getting freaked out as to what to wear. Luckily, I had read an article that women on a first date should wear a skirt or a dress, high heels, and get a blow out at a salon.

The first two I can do, but, the third, I think I can handle that myself. So I decided to go with a dress so I don’t have to worry on finding a top that matches the skirt or, in other words, having more decisions to make.

I gravitated towards a dress that has a red and white print, which length sits right below my knee and the neckline doesn’t show too much cleavage. I don’t see myself as someone who has a lot to be showing, but I don’t want to come across as vulgar, even less desperate.

I then migrated to the shoes. I had just purchased (on sale, of course) a high-heeled wedge that had a dark brown and black tone. They’re not too high or low, making it the perfect height for the dress.

I was happy with what I putted together. It was all me and felt it was bringing out my best features. I felt I looked elegant without overdoing it, and not too sexy that will make this guy think I’m after “other things.”

All right, let’s see how things turn out.



Alex gave me his phone number and let it up to me to make the first call whenever I felt I was ready to, which I preferred. In the past I have been the one who gave out the number, and the guys would either call me right away, or never called at all.

Either way, it was irritating to me, but probably the second one is worst. With the first you know they’re interesting (in whatever level that may be), but calling right away might also make them look desperate (or extremely horny). Not making the call makes them look like total jackasses. If you are not interested, why ask for the number? I mean, couldn’t you figure that out beforehand?

So, when am I making the call? Hmm, now I’m freaking out. Don’t know why, all is going the way I’ve wanted to. Is it ‘the voice thing’ or maybe the fact that I finally met a guy who has a lot of potential?

All I can say is that I’m very nervous. I haven’t had a relationship with a guy since my separation. I don’t know how it feels to have a relationship any more, to have a man I can call my own. And I still haven’t learned what I am supposed to do if that ever happened again.

I am afraid to make the call because I feel I will handle it all wrong. I am scared to give myself the chance to open my heart to someone else and experience something I used to know how good it felt.



Maybe it has to do with his pictures. In one he’s sitting on a staircase in a house, wearing a shirt, jeans and flip-flops. I think it is the shoes; they give me the feeling of someone bohemian, relaxed, laid back, a beach lover.

In the other photo he’s outdoors, like in the mountains, standing below a tree wearing a cowboy hat, long-sleeve shirt and jeans. He looked sexy to me probably because I’ve never known a cowboy or rancher. But, is he?

Oh. My, he’s European (yes! even better!). That hasn’t happened to me either, and (no!) he’s younger than me, by about seven years. (Will this cougar phase ever end??)

Funny thing is that he doesn’t look that much younger than me. He did look, though, that for a first online date, he would be worth a try.

So during the day we kept exchanging short emails through which we asked questions to each other, to get some info from one another. He told me his name was Ivan and was born and raised in one of the former Soviet block countries.

Then, on one of the last ones, he asked me the most dreaded question, ‘Can I have your phone number?’ Once again, nervous of how to address this, I told him to give me his, and prayed he wouldn’t pull a ‘Jesse’ reaction (‘Where I come from, that means you will never call me.’)(Please refer to ‘Another Cougar Moment’.)

Lucky me, he gave it to me, no comments made. My last email to him read, ‘Great! I will be calling you soon.’

And what does that entail from my end? For starters, I thought to wait to call until the evening so not to look desperate and to ensure he would be available to talk.

Now, got to decide if I make the call and he doesn’t answer, will I leave a message? I’ll probably freak out and hang up and try again later. I mean, the number will appear as a missed call, but it doesn’t guarantee that the receiver will answer it if there’s no voicemail.

No, I should be brave and leave a message. I mean, haven’t I been brave enough for giving online dating a try?

All right, in a few hours I will make the call that (maybe) will change my life.



et cetera