Thou Doth Protest Too Much

The first time Yenta Hessa and I went to our Hampton house this summer, we went up to the house and knocked on the door. A leprechaun opened the door. It was a 40-50 year old man with shoulder length red curly hair, a 1970’s break dance lid and plaid pants. Like one of the Fat Albert cartoon characters. His name was Jesus (pronounced ‘hey-soos’; accent on the ‘soos’). He was very nice and helped us with our bags.

Jesus had a bangin’ body and turns out was staying at the house for the entire summer. He lived there in the summer, Miami in the winter, and the Upper East Side the rest of the time. He drove a BMW sports car. So, I thought it was natural to ask what Jesus did for a living.

His reply was, “Umm. Uhhh. Ohh. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Umm. Uhh. Ohh.”

“Huh? What kind of answer was that? What did that mean?”

Jesus could not answer and seemed offended by the question.

Anyway, he was actually very sweet and believe it or not, one of most normal guys at the house all summer! And as the summer progressed, I started to find him very hot.

But he had no interest, and I’m sure it was much better that way.

Our summer pass time was to figure out what Jesus did to earn money. There was a rumor that he was a male escort.

Then a strange thing happened in October. Jesus called me and asked Yenta Hessa and me to dinner and/or a movie that weekend.

Hmm. Interesting.

I figured it wasn’t a date and accepted that. He was going to a protest and would meet me afterwards. He is something of an activist.

But on the day of, he asked if I wanted to invite Yenta to come. He said, she can come along, but it would be dutch. I decided not to call her.

Dutch? Does that mean it will be dutch for me too? Is it a date? Or is it not a date? If it is, what should I wear? If it’s not, what should I wear?

Then it began. I needed to figure out what to wear. A dress or jeans? Sky high heels or flats? Heels would be a date. Flats would be just a friendly dinner.

It took hours.

I finally decided on cute skinny jeans, cute T, and sky-high Yves Saint Laurent Tributoo platform pumps. Fabulous.

We were going to meet at a neighborhood restaurant and then take it from there. I was a few minutes early, as I always am. I waited outside. It was a beautiful night.

All of a sudden I saw him. He was approaching me fast wearing …

… Wait for it …

Roller blades.

As he reached me to kiss me hello, he nearly knocked me off my Yves Saint Laurents because he used me to stop himself from rolling.

Really?

He was wearing sweat pants, a plaid shirt, and again, in case you missed it,,, roller blades!!!

I could do nothing but laugh about how funny that was. There I was in YSL, having dinner with a guy in roller blades.

No. He never took them off. They stayed on the whole time. He told me he wore them because he was late for the protest and needed to make some time.

He walked me home after dinner. Well, it’s more like I walked and he rolled.

God, I better not see anybody I know.

Oh, by the way, it was a date. He paid.

Damn!