i should warn you before you read this.  

some of this stuff may be offensive. 

i took last night to think about how to write this blog.... and if i should write this blog. i decided that in the last year and a half that i've been on this site, that the amount of help i've received from this community has been overwhelming, and much needed....and deserved the truth.  even if that truth painted me in a bad light.  

so here you go.  

if you've been reading my blogs you know that i've been in this odd situation of dating two men.  one, my neighbor...the other, my best friend of twelve years.  after four years of being divorced and spending my weekends cleaning, it's been exciting and welcome.  

this weekend i had a saturday date with my friend of twelve years.  he sent me an email on friday telling me that i needed an evening dress and a passport.  

i was excited.  

and so were my co-workers.  and yes, i tell my co-workers everything.  it's rare for me to get embarrassed and frankly, who cares.  we're a good group and have fun and i have no problem in sharing my personal life.  i've known some of my coworkers for ten years or so.  

so....since this is the same man who a year ago turned me down while in my driveway, my co-workers decide to place bets on the evening.  it's funny.  don't get all judgemental.  it's fun.  

we have 1 to 1 odds on sex and 2 to 1 on no sex.  then we detail the excuses he will give:  5 to 1 on tired, 3 to 1 on headache, 10 to 1 on lost viagra, 2 to 1 on too drunk, 6 to 1 on not in mood, 7 to 1 on lost condom and 4 to 1 on 'too good of friend'.  

i take the 7 to 1 bet on lost condom.  we all place our bets and money is exchanged.  

anyway.   so, after fretting, spending way too much money buying three different dresses, shoes and accoutrements, getting my hair styled and prepping in all the normal girly ways, i stood outside of my house, dressed and ready for my date.  he was going to call to tell me next steps.  

while i was standing there i heard a car horn.   it was my neighbor.   

damn!  

he asked if i was going out with my friend. 

yes, i said.   

awkward.  

continued awkward silence.  

i said, 'what are you doing tonight?'  he said, he was just going to drive around.  

awkward.  

he wished me a good night and drove off.  

the phone rings. it's my friend.  'get in your car and drive to my house' he says and then hangs up.  

ok. i do.  

ten minutes later the phone rings again.   'where are you,' he asks.   i tell him i'm about to turn onto his street.   'well, don't do that' he says. 'keep driving, get on the highway and get off at x exit.'  he hangs up again.  

ok.  so i do.   now this is interesting.  i'm even more excited now.  was not expecting this at all.  

ten minutes later he calls again.    'where are you now' he asks.   i tell him i'm about to get off the exit....and ask now what?   he says 'go west, drive to the airport, pull in and park.'  click.  

five minutes later i'm parked in the airport parking lot. it's one of those smaller, community airports..not the big one.  i'm the only car here.  there are tiny, little commuter planes in front of me. 

the phone rings.   'are you there?' he asks.  'now get out of your car, take a break, and i'll call you in a minute.'  click.  

and i actually do get out of my car.  i feel like maybe there are cameras watching or he's hiding in the little office peeking out the window.  

phone rings three minutes later.  'ok, get back in your car, go back on the road and head east.'  

i do.  

this time he stays on the phone and directs me to the ritz carlton hotel.  he tells me to valet park and come to room x.  

i do.  

he answers the door when i ring, and i walk in.  'well, interesting wild goose chase' i say to him.  it's a beautiful ocean front, double balcony suite.  cole porter is playing in the background.  there's wine on the table. lovely.  

i ask him 'what are our plans for the evening, and since you told me nothing at all, i have three dresses....ranging from a little dressy to very formal, you need to please pick the most appropriate one.'   he looks at all three and tells me to wear the one that i'm already wearing....a black, ankle length, plunging neckline dress.  

i do.  

we sit on the couch and he goes into a 30 minute speech that has to do with his friends, a newly married couple, etc.etc. blah blah blah...basically, in the end, he explains that they are coming here, tonight, to this very room, in 30 minutes, to join us for dinner.  

ok.  odd, i think.  his friends are joining us at the ritz, on our date, for dinner.  hmmmmmmm.  this doesn't feel right.  

he explains that the passport thing was a red herring.  

ok.  odder, i think.  (note to men:  do not do this.  red herrings are fine and dandy, but not one that includes passports and women getting excited about passports and what that means).  

his friends arrive.  they are dressed down.  way down. birkenstocks down.  

we greet, admire the room, sit in the living room and start small talk.  my friend opens a bottle of wine and offers it around the room.  they pass.  they are born again christians.   not that there's anything wrong with that.  but, while i'm usually comfortable and able to talk with anyone on anything, i'm suddenly quite aware of my twice divorced (once to a gay man) status and think it's best that i keep the conversation focused on them.  

so.....so far my assessment of the evening is that i'm mildly disappointed in the passport red herring and more so disappointed in his friends joining us for our date, but the night is still salvageable....he must have some other tricks up his sleeve, right?  

wrong.  

while sitting in the living room, his friends ask 'so, what is the occasion?  why have you called your friends here to the ritz'?  

we all stare at my friend.   and he says......'well, once a year i like to treat myself to a little trip like this for the weekend.'  

wait! what!  what did he just say?  

he did not say what i was expecting, which was....'well, i'm on a date here, with paula, and this is our second date....yes, i know...twelve years of friendship, and we are on our official second date...'.   

nope.  

well, that was pretty much it for me.  the non date is now over in my mind.  i would have left at that moment, but i had had a couple of glasses of wine and decided that i would just drink the night away.  

we all go to dinner.  we order.  we talk.  i make at least five sarcastic remarks about how he should be having fun on his special once a year trip for himself.  he doesn't seem to get it.  

i keep excusing myself for the restroom, but really end up outside by the valet, calling my friends to bitch.  

'can you believe there's no real trip?!'  

'can you believe he invited his friends?!'  

'can you believe he won't even tell them he's on date with me?!'.  

they all tell me to drink up and try to have some fun and that's he just too immature, a boy, inexperienced.   nobody says what i know they are all thinking....he's not interested in you paula.  this is his way of telling you that.  

after dinner we walk outside to the ocean.  his friends walk down the boardwalk a bit and i turn to my friend and ask him directly.  

'so, what's up' i say.  'why are your friends on our date and why do they not know we are on a date?  are you embarrassed by me?'  

he stammers and looks confused and just starts apologizing.   

his friends leave.  we go the room.  he immediately says 'so, shall we go to bed'...and he's meaning 'sleep'.  

i tell him, 'sure, i'll take the couch.'  

we do the whole 'no, no, no thing...you should take the bed, blah blah blah.'  

so, we're in different rooms and it's silent.  occasionally we talk across the room.  he tells me to take the bed and i tell him to go to sleep.   i ask him again what happened here tonight?  he tells me again that he's sorry.

finally, i say...'look, i have money on this night, and no, you don't need to know the details, but, tell me the truth right now....do you have condoms with you?'  

he says 'why would i need condoms?'  

ok.  so there you go.  total humiliation.  but at least i won the bet.  so i yell out to him....'i just won 7 to 1 odds on that.'  

later i say to him....'really, you invited me to a hotel room, what did you think was going to happen here?  what kind of girl do you think i am' said very sarcastically.  

and he says 'a good girl'.  

ok, men out there, let me tell you that the last thing you should ever say to a 40 year old single women who hasn't had sex in four years and comes to your hotel room in an dress, is that sentence.  a good girl?  good grief!

next day we get up, eat breakfast and i go home. but that's not the end of the story.  

i get into bed and decide to sleep the day away when the phone rings. it's my girlfriend.  i know she wants to hear the details, but i'm not in the mood.  a minute later the phone rings again.  it's her again.  something must be up, so i answer.  

she says 'i want to hear about your date, but i need your help first. i know your neighbor is in the medical field. i think i did something bad and don't know if i should go to the er.' 

at the word er, i'm out of bed and out my front door and running to my neighbors house.   i knock. he opens. i hand him the phone and mumble something about can he please talk to my friend, i'm sorry, she may be in trouble.  

he talks to her.  he tells her what to do.  she'll be fine. they hang up and he hands me back the phone.  

now we're standing in his kitchen and it's quiet.  

awkward.  

didn't intend on seeing my neighbor the day after my date with my friend.  but here i am.  

so.  

he says 'so, how was your date?'  

i say 'not what i had expected...is this odd?  do you really want to hear this?'  

'no'  he says.  

'ok, i'll just go...thanks for helping my friend. sorry about that.....ok, bye'.  

i back up towards the door.  

'wait, i do want to hear about it...if you want to share.'  

ok.

so i tell him. all of it. he's laughing.  he's saying i'm sorry.  he comes over and gives me a hug.  tells me how he spent the night drinking scotch and watching some netflix movie that just so happened to be about two long time friends having sex.  he said he got drunk.  

he gives me a hug, and ladies, i swear.....in less than three seconds one of his hands slipped up under the back of my shirt and with one finger the double latched eye hooks of my bra were unhooked.   he whispers to me, 'sounds like you were out with a boy paula.'  

so, what do i tell you at this point?  

do i tell you that i slept with my neighbor six hours after my date with my friend?  

or do i tell you that i ran out his house and went home because...well....i'm a good girl?