Double Coincidences and Women Need to Feel Safe.

Since I still do not know what to post because I am still experiencing a blend of emotions to the recent events regarding the Epstein files, and everything else that has transpired since the beginning of this year, I will write about the good-looking, tall, artist I met last year because I said I would tell our story in a later post when I mentioned him four weeks ago during AVN.

We had only met twice last year. He fell off the planet for a bit, which I thought was peculiar because he always communicated well, despite his job grinding him into 16-hour work shifts more often than not. I reached out to him one last time just before the new year, told him I thought he was the most emotionally mature person I’ve met over the past couple of years, and wished him all the best. He apologized, admitted I was owed an explanation, and replied that there were a couple of deaths in his family and he did not want to bother anyone with his grief. I expressed my condolences and told him he could contact me whenever he felt ready.

Whenever I thought about checking in on him the first few weeks of the year, it was always some random time in the last hour of the day or the early hours of the next. And I knew he’s a lark and I’m a night owl.

By the time I finally satisfied my perfectionism, I self-parked my car at the Virgin Hotel at 21:25. I messaged my friend to find out where I could locate him, messaged another friend to see if he had come to AVN this year, edited a couple of photos, and replaced my flats with heels.

When I finally walked up to the elevators on the 5th floor of the parking garage, it was 21:52. I pressed the elevator button and waited for it to arrive. I switched my orientation as I waited, looking at my phone to try to figure out where my friend was, when someone tall walked past me in my peripheral vision. I looked up, noticed his height and good looks, and within 3 seconds, I realized I knew him!

“Hey, you!” I said with a surprised smile.

He turned his head towards me. It took a brief second for his brain to register it was me, and with a returned stunned expression, he replied, “Heyyy! You! What‽”

We briefly hugged, missed the elevator (but there were already a bunch of people in it), and as we waited for the next one, we confessed to each other that we both intended to follow up, but life got in the way.

I told him about a random subconscious thought, wondering if he might be there, because I knew he was good friends with a well-known male performer. But I guessed he wouldn't, because he was still grieving and his work was still demanding a lot of his time. I found out about his friendship with the performer and that one of his exes is/was in the industry on our second date back in September.

He told me that this friend urged him to meet him for dinner that night, and that he only just gotten back to Vegas the week prior.

As we walked together into the Virgin Hotel and I searched for my friend, David, I could feel so many eyes on us, mostly me, but he’s a 6’4”, handsome man, so, of course, everyone would take notice of both of us. Whilst searching for my friend David, we got separated, but he had to join his friend for dinner anyway. I invited them to join us after they finished dinner.

A few hours later, he joined David and me at the bar. David waited until he arrived so that I wouldn't be alone, introduced himself, and then went upstairs to sleep because he had been up early for the Shot Show that day.

I ordered more sparkling water and another bourbon for myself, as I updated my friend on what had transpired with my son’s family recently. My tall friend does not drink. The past few men who’ve piqued my interest do not consume alcohol, which I find to be a welcome coincidence given my son’s father’s alcoholism and past dating history with guys struggling with addiction.

I finished my bourbon, and we walked together towards the garage as we exited the Virgin hotel.

He walked with me to my car, as he has every time we’ve met.

**

Yes, we’d only met twice before, but on our second date, he walked me to my car after we left Area 15, then we drove separately to dinner. And he walked with me to my car after I left his place that night, even though my car was parked directly behind his apartment, inside the apartment building’s designated parking lot, and after I insisted that he didn’t need to walk with me.

The strong, independent woman I had to become also learned not to inconvenience people. I was programmed to read that when a man asks you to walk you to your vehicle, it is an inconvenience to him, and you should refuse.

As I think about this now, it bothers me that so many women have been conditioned to expect the least from men. So often have I given my affection, my mouth, my body to men, leave their place, and never expected that the least they could do after giving myself to them, is walk me to my car. I numbed myself to any actions concerning my safety because it has rarely ever been offered.

I’ve been operating independently for so long that I know I can survive on my own. It’s honestly never really bothered me that most guys haven't troubled themselves to make sure I’ve returned to my vehicle or home after I’ve satisfied them. I think this speaks to the misogynistic culture that we live in. So when you encounter a man, finally, at the age of 40, who tells you he will walk you to your car, insists that he does so, after you tell him twice that he does not have to, and actually follows through on what he said he was going to do, his chivalry rattles you.

**

I told him to hop in my car, and I drove him around the corner to where his car was parked. I pulled into the vacant parking space next to his car and turned off the BMW.

I have no idea why I decided to remove my son’s car seat that night, before I left the house. I usually leave it in the car because everyone who has ever transported a small human in a motor vehicle knows the struggle of securing a child’s car seat. But I am glad I chose to remove it. 😼😉 After almost six years of owning Bartholemew, he was finally christened that night. 😈

***

Another coincidence occurred as I drove home during the early hours that Saturday morning. As I was stopped at a traffic light, I noticed someone I thought I recognized among a few other people walking past my car. I rolled my window down and yelled his name, but he didn’t hear me over the traffic and the people’s voices that were within that block.

I asked him at the gym the following Monday, “Hey, were you possibly walking across Naples on Friday night, technically Saturday morning around 3:30ish, if you can recall?” 😄 He said, "Yes,” and then I told him about the double random coincidences.

I was bewildered by the coincidences that night. For me to finally arrive at the Virgin Hotel when I did, walk to the elevators after spending almost half an hour in my car, encounter the man who’s probably the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve met thus far, christen the BMW with him later that night, and for us to finish at the moment we did, for me to then randomly see a fellow CrossFitter walk in front my car as he crossed the street. 🤯

**

Another observation I have about this emotionally mature, tall man is that we didn't even kiss on our first date.

He walked me to my car. I apologized again for my tardiness, told him I would let him know when I might have another child-free night, we hugged, and then I got into my car.

I had to spend some time thinking about this, but I believe he is the only man I’ve ever met who has not stuck his dick inside me or kissed me during our initial meeting. This is definitely true regarding the 11 years I’ve lived in Vegas, but I believe it is true across my entire dating life since I was a teenager.

I know that says a lot about me, as much as it says a lot about the behavior of the boys and men I’ve encountered. However, I have stated before that growing up in an emotionally unstable environment, where love was conditional, and hating the way I looked because of society’s portrayal of beauty, led me to seek attention by any means it was offered to me.

It is bewildering, as a 41-year-old woman, to reflect on all the interactions I’ve had with boys and men, since I was a teenage girl, at this moment in time, post the release of the Epstein files. My experiences both validate women’s concerns about our safety and our proclamations to urge men to listen to us, go to therapy, and evolve themselves. Until more men do the actions we, as women, are pleading to them to do, and stop fucking listening to the misogynistic bullshit that is vomitted out of the mouths of the loudest, most insecure, and villanous of “men,” and further perpetuated by social media algorithms that feed upon our underdeveloped prefrontal cortexes and altered amygdalae, the loneliness epidemic will continue.

I can only hope that more men start to evaluate their own behavior when it comes to how they interact with women. Both for their sake and for the women who still desire a loyal, loving, and respectful partnership with a man who can get them wet within a few seconds of their tongues intertwining. A man who can make her feel safe enough to finally embody the feminine woman she’s craved to release all her inhibitions, remove all her armor without criticism, and collapse into.