UpDATE: Meet Mr. Birmingham – Part Two

(If you haven’t read Part One, click here)

As we’re seated in the fancy lounge area on a comfy couch made of velvet, a waitress approaches us and leaves us the cocktail menu. 

The room is occupied by tourists speaking other languages, families that look like they just walked off of a Ralph Lauren Ad, a group of friends, another group of older, wealthy couples, and people on dates.

Several times I catch people sitting nearby staring at us, and I can’t figure out if they’re trying to figure out who we are or what.  Celebrities frequent this hotel, so perhaps the out-of-towners are curious.  This does happen frequently to me, however, and just the other night at a charity event someone asked if I was on TV.  Hmmm.  Anyways…

It’s definitely “First Date Jitters” happening, and we’re both a bit nervous, as expected.  We make small talk, and he orders us both some wine when she returns.

He asks great questions and we continue to find out that we have even more in common.  Some quite interesting things pop up.

He asks, “Where’s the #1 place you want to travel to in the world?”

Without hesitation, I respond with confidence, “Dubai! I’ve been obsessed for years.”

He’s SHOCKED because he admits that’s the #1 place he has on his list! Weird.

We learn that he we both play piano, and played percussion in band during high school.

I learn that he was very involved in mentoring kids in schools back home in Alabama, that he was a season ticket holder to the Atlanta Hawks, and that he has three older sisters who he’s very close to.

He was married for 12 years, but divorced back in 2010.  I learn that she had a small town mentality, which is fine, but not when she knew he was meant for bigger things and therefore tried to hold him back.

We can definitely relate on this one.

He tells me he thinks I’m amazing, and up until that moment, didn’t think I was real.

“Real??” I ask.  “I’m real and sitting right here in front of you!”

He admits to deleting his OkCupid profile earlier that morning, and hoped that meeting me tonight would actually happen.  I guess something about my profile and pics was “too good to be true.” 🙂

We chat for a long time about life and his move to Los Angeles and why this all happened for him.

Typically, everyone who moves here has a dream they’re pursuing.  This guy has quite the story already.

He’s an engineer who works remotely from home.  He has two major clients (think big govt contracts) which pay him very well, however his heart is in being a writer.

He decided to give it a shot awhile ago and ended up being hired by a magazine to write for them.  They loved his stuff and that lead to him being put in contact with CAA – one of the world’s largest agent/manager companies that represents top talent in the entertainment industry.

Apparently, he had written two screenplays (aka – movie scripts) that these guys really loved and made him an offer to come work for them.

They flew HIM out to Los Angeles and put him up until he finds a place to live.  As of that day we met, he had just signed on with an Agent at CAA.  Amazing! He’s already off to a great start, and has accomplished something most people in LA work towards their whole life and never see come to fruition.

I’m totally impressed, and loving how ambitious this guy is.

We talk about our families and other things we like to do for fun, and then it’s getting late for him because he’s still on CST and hasn’t adjusted.

He pays for the bill and we head towards valet to pick up my/his car.

As I pull up to his hotel to drop him off, he mentions I should come hang out with him some more.  A bit surprised because I thought he was tired, I agree and am happy because I really didn’t want the night to end so soon.

He’s still quite the gentleman and kind of distant physically, so I’m feeling comfortable with that.  Definitely not affectionate.  I get the sense he’d still like to continue the great conversation.

We take the elevators up to his room.

We enter and after I set my purse down on the desk, make my way over to the balcony outside.  He opens the door and we step out onto his balcony, with the most amazing view! We’re right in the middle of the hotel and can view beautiful fountains across the way, and the glorious CAA glass office building right across the street where hours earlier he shook hands with several gentlemen and struck a deal with his future.

We both love nice cars and he points out this ridiculous Range Rover parked outside, below the hotel in valet.  He had told me he heard it earlier and that it must have a custom V12 engine in it – it sounded like a Lamborghini, he said! Crazy.  And definitely a sick car.

We stay out on the balcony for awhile longer.  The conversation is so easy and comfortable.

We come back inside and since there’s no couch, we both make our way to the bed.  I see a magazine he’s picked up that says, “The Top 25 Things to Do in Los Angeles” and instantly get excited.  Since I’ve told him I’d be happy to be his tour guide, I start flipping through it.

He’s laying on the very farrrrr edge of the bed, away from me.  It’s cute.  We’re like in Junior High, afraid to get too close to each other…lol.

He turns on the TV and we continue to talk, watch the show, flip through the magazine, etc.  We’re laughing and flirting a bit, and he’s still asking great questions here and there.

It’s super comfortable.  And the tension just melts away.

All of a sudden we hear a loud car engine start up outside the window.  We BOTH immediately jump off the bed and run to the balcony, saying, “THAT’S IT!!!!”

We laugh as we quickly open the patio door and sure enough, look down to see that new Range Rover with the V12 engine started up in valet.  We watch (and listen) as the guy who owns it drives off down the street below us.  The sound is ridiculous! (and one that I absolutely love)…

We both laugh at the fact that we immediately both jumped up and went to go look at the same time….lol.  Two peas in a pod.

The bed beckons again and we resume our positions, but this time a bit closer.

I’m finding awesome things we can go do in this magazine, and he’s excited about future plans I name off that sound interesting to him.

He’s back to watching TV and at one point I look at him and he’s watching me.

He asks, “If you could be anywhere, where would it be?”

I hesitate for a second, but only because the answer that immediately came to my head sounded so cheesy that I didn’t want to share it. But heck, I’m never one to lie and always believe in being authentic so I say,

“Right here, actually.”

He smiles.  I smile and look back down at my magazine, a little nervous.

“Really?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “And I only say that because I believe there’s no other place I’m supposed to be other than right here right now.”

He agrees that this feels nice and definitely comfortable, and I wonder if all this time of being single and dating I’ve just been waiting for a guy from Birmingham, Alabama to finally get to Los Angeles…

 

 

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upDATE: Mr. Can I Get a Vowel

After 7 months of not seeing each other, I agreed to finally see Mr. Can I Get a Vowel again.

The fact that his name is literally missing a vowel and is spelled incorrectly (yet….not…cuz that’s how his mama spelled it) still bugs me.  However, we did have some crazy chemistry and I remember both dates that we had last year like they were yesterday.  Might as well, right? He told me he’s completely single and still wondering what I’m up to.

We met at a place in Venice for drinks.

As I began to walk in to meet him, I realized that he hadn’t seen me (or even a pic of me) with my new haircut.  I’ve been told I look pretty different now, and I agree.

Oh, great.

I immediately felt the anxiety of the “First Date Nerves” all over again.  That beginning part where you’re meeting someone in person after communicating mostly via text or message or phone.

Sure enough, I’m walking towards who I think is him, sitting at a table towards the back.  The place is packed.

The guy turns and looks at me walking towards him across the room.  He doesn’t respond.

Oh, CRAP! He totally doesn’t recognize me! Wait.  Is that even HIM???

I literally keep walking towards this guy, getting closer and closer.  I’ve committed to it.

Still NO RESPONSE. Not a smile, but a look of confusion, perhaps?

I am now literally AT the table and I’m 98% sure it’s him but need him to say something so I can recognize his voice.  Or a smile, or something! ANYTHING!

I decide that it’s him and pull up a chair next to him and say, “Hi! Yeah, it’s me.  I cut my hair….”

The look of wonder starts to fade and he smiles a faint smile.

He totally didn’t recognize me!

Ha!

Awkward.

He looks at my hair, me up and down, back at my hair.  It’s funny and random.  He says he likes it, he just didn’t recognize me.

We begin to catch up and our nerves dissipate.

He’s still super attractive and I love his style and designer jeans.  The man can dress.

He asked me what happened to the guy I last told him I was seeing (umm…that would be The Doc, last year).  He has a great memory.

I tell him that that guy was great, but that he didn’t want a longterm, serious relationship with me.

He says, “Yeah, welcome to my world.  That’s woman’s problem in LA.”

Umm, excuuuuuze me?! I thought that was just MY challenge!

Apparently he’d been meeting other people off of Plenty of Fish who were a bit bat*** crazy.  He says that most women here don’t know what they want.

I love hearing the men’s perspective on dating.  It’s usually a topic on 80% of dates I go on.

He’s an affectionate guy and we’re flirting.  He puts his hand on my knee as we watch the NBA game that’s on and talk.

After he buys us a round or two of drinks, we close out our tab.

Since we’re a block away from the ocean, we head to his car to put our stuff away.

I recognize the same black BMW he had last year, and it felt nice to see something “familiar” when I haven’t talked to him in so long.  Our connection is definitely there and I feel very comfortable with him.  He has a very quiet, calming presence.

He grabs a blanket out of the trunk and we walk around the pier and almost empty boardwalk of Venice.

After about an hour of hearing waves crash on the beach, we parted ways with him promising me that I won’t wait another 7 months to see him again.

I made the promise, and I’m sure it won’t be 7 months, although I’m not exactly sure why or when we’d see each other again.

As much as I enjoy our connection on the chemistry side of things, he’s lacking in a few other areas that are very important to me.  Ambition and career track.  Plus, he may be moving to Puerto Rico for 4 months to go work for his brother who’s a professional basketball player (and former LA Clippers player).

Nothing longterm is really there, but we’re still in communication and I won’t blow him off or lose his number anytime soon.

(Fun Fact: As I started to type this blog about him, I remembered on our date that he said his birthday was yesterday! And he turned 40! That was a big deal! OOPS! I feel like a total jerk.

I just text him “Happy Birthday” wishes and hope he had a good weekend and we’ve been texting back and forth.

Thank God I’m blogging! I probably wouldn’t have remembered til sometime next week when it randomly hit me! Thanks, Single Girl Shenanigans.  See – I blog for you guys, but I also blog for me.  It helps me remember things.) 🙂

I’m a Sucker For a Suit

Last night I was invited to a fashion show. My friend’s clothing line for kids was being featured on the runway and she offered me a ticket.

The show was great and afterwards we mingled with others at the VIP cocktail reception.

My friend introduces me to two gentleman she had met earlier – both wearing suits.

Now in LA, it’s RARE to see a man in a suit. The lifestyle is so casual here that it’s not unusual to see someone in jeans on the red carpet. Dressing up is an exception in Los Angeles so I looooooove seeing a man in a suit. (Blame my lawyer ex-husband who got me hooked on picking out ties. My weakness.)

In LA,  if a guy’s in a suit, he’s either a banker, a lawyer or lives in Beverly Hills. Just my experience. 🙂

Sure enough, this one guy I had my eye on lives in Beverly Bills.

We chat, we flirt, we play the “guess my age” game with all four of us and then clink our glasses together to “cheers” to us all looking wayyyyyy younger than our actual ages. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for the good genes.

I’m loving that this one guy is 49, but looks and acts like he’s in his 30s.  I love he’s from the Dominican Republic but raised in New York and an NYU grad.  Oh. And that he’s wearing a suit and tie ensemble that probably cost that of a good mortgage payment. I’m not mad.

My friend tells the two guys what I do for a living and Mr. Armani asks me if I also freelance on the side. I tell him I do sometimes and he wants my card. Awesome. He gives me his.

We talk more about us both being single parents, how much we love our kids and what position my son plays in football.

The time passes, we’re having great banter and we kinda drift a few feet over to have a more private conversation. He tells me stories of what REALLY happened with Kobe Bryant and his scandal,  what his famous actor friend (who he won’t share his name) gave him for his 47th birthday, and a few of the film and charity projects he’s involved in.  So Hollywood.

We’re chatting and laughing away and then the shocking moment of the night happens. He says something about being in trouble as a kid and I laugh and say I was grounded my whole childhood, too. He just looks at me and says, “I know you were.”

Um, excuse me? You weren’t there. How did you know that? We just met! What the what?

He answers, “OH, come on. You’re a rebel. It’s all in your eyes…..”

Dang! I’m so busted here, because it’s partly true, although I’ve been playing the professional, classy woman role all night. People tell me all the time I have these eyes…but how do they see this stuff??

I’m literally shocked, and smiling, ask how he could possibly know that (all the while maintaining my innocence).

“Please, I read you like a book right away. What’s that line in Jerry Maguire?…. Oh yeah, you had me at hello.” 🙂

I’m now blushing yet intrigued and luckily his friend walks over to say he’s got to get going.

Mr. Armani and him came together so he gives me a hug and asks what I’m doing this weekend. He tells me we should get together, and since I live just down the street from him it’d be easy to do. He tells me his travel plans for the next week and says we’ll figure something out. I tell him that’d be great. And they head out.

So now I wait for him to be a man and make a move. Yes, I’ll wait – not with baited breath, but with a vision of me strolling through his walk-in closet….full of ties. 🙂

Facebook Is a Snitch (upDATE: Mr. Can I Get A Vowel)

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve turned into a Private Investigator and gone to social media to find somebody to stalk,… err, I mean, look at.

We all do it.

And with new dates popping up faster than the Orville Redenbacker popcorn machine at the movie theater, I’ve got to find extra info on these boyz STAT, yo!

Remember Mr. Can I Get A Vowel?

Well thank goodness he’s missing a vowel in how to spell his name cuz he was the ONLY guy on Facebook that came up in my search. How convenient!

He’s still texting me everyday, calling me “baby” (Btw, what is that with guys? I’m not your baby until we’re exclusive! Do you know how many people’s “baby” I am?? It’s getting watered down.  Ugh.), and he’s tried to see me again (I already had plans that night) .

Let’s see what this guy’s REAL story is…

His profile? Pretty barren and locked down. Most recent profile pic was from 2011, and it was one of the same ones from his dating profile.

I couldn’t see or learn anything else, really. I flipped through a few old pics in an album on the red carpet with his brother, the guy in the NBA. Meh. Whatevs. Nothing too shocking. No women in his pix, just a bunch of guy friends. He still looks good, though.

But THEN… I see it.

A picture on his timeline from 2011, a selfie of a woman he had tagged as “my friend.”

She’s a pretty Asian girl and right away I remember him saying on our first date that he has a crazy, Asian ex. Whatever that means.

So naturally I click through to her profile and lo and behold, her current default profile pic is both her AND Mr. Can I Get A Vowel all hugged up together.

Further, her cover photo is of him and her at a zoo.

Busted.

I dig deeper to find the dates these pics were taken. Turns out, it was awhile ago but she had just re-uploaded them a few weeks back. I can read a public comment thread and see her tell her aunt who commented on how cute they are together that she “loves him very much!”

Hmmm.

Either they just broke up recently and she’s not quite ready to let go of their 3+ year relationship, or they’re still together.

Either way, I ain’t the one!

Too messy. And as I told him, I’m looking for a more serious relationship. I couldn’t expect anyone to be ready to jump right back into one.

I ended up questioning him about it. He said he had already “explained” the situation me. (No, playa, you didn’t. I’m pretty sure I would have recalled that info.)

So I told him I ain’t the one, and he said he wishes me the best and that I deserve the best.

Yes. Yes, I do.

Vanna, out.

Next!

upDATE: Mr. Can I Get A Vowel

Well, life is exciting and full of surprises.

One of the things I always try to keep in mind while dating in Los Angeles is to have no expectations.  I know what I want (both in a relationship as well as what I’d like to experience while dating).  So it’s always interesting when you’re about to meet someone for the first time IRL (translation – in real life) from first meeting them online.

This blog update is about the guy I briefly blogged about here.  Catch up if you need to.  Here’s what happened:

It’s Thursday.  I get home from work, grab a quick bite and then start getting ready to meet him at the place we’d decided to meet at in Beverly Hills, The Peninsula Hotel.

First, I have to tell you how much I appreciate a man with great communication.  PRICELESS.  This guy has that part DOWN, and I’m so grateful.  I get a text from him while I’m getting ready – confirming we’re still meeting.  Nice.  Yes, yes, we are.  (One of the biggest source of nerves when it comes to meeting someone in person is the fact that they might just flake on you.  Rude, but it happens.)

I text back to confirm, but need an extra 15 mins from initially planned.  He’s cool with that, too.

I’m getting ready.  Now, as much dating as I’ve done, how “dressed” I get depends on a few things: How interested I am in the person, What mood I’m in and Where we’re meeting.  Today? Shower, hair, makeup, and a dress.  Yes, a dress.  We were going to a nice hotel lounge in Beverly Hills, after all.  I’m totally fine wearing jeans anywhere I go, but based on this guy’s pics on his profile I felt dressing up was probably a good call.

He texts me that he’s on the way.   I LOVE this text the most.  That lets me gauge how long it’ll take him to get from his house to the hotel, and how much time I need to leave my house so we arrive at the same time.  No one wants to wait awkwardly by themselves at the spot.

I look good.  I throw on my 5″ heels, too.  Hell, why not.  He says he’s 6’2″, which means I’ll be juuuuust a bit shorter than him still, even wearing heels.  #winning

He texts me again to let me know he’s arrived…he’s “sitting down.”  I am LOVING the play-by-play.

I text him “Ok…5 mins” and take off to leave, since I’m done getting ready and live just down the street.

I pull up to valet and ask the gentleman with the fancy hat and vest where the bar/lounge is.  I enter the doors and walk down the hall.  I see him out of the corner of my eye.  He’s secured a corner area, with a couch, table and a few chairs around.

He stands up to greet me with that million dollar smile I recognize from his profile pictures and gives me a hug.

He’s dressed up! He’s wearing all black – a collared shirt, black dress pants, black leather dress shoes and a Gucci belt.

Dang.  Too-Young-Tyson-Beckford has competition in the “Most Gorgeous Man I’ve Met in LA” category and I am again reminded that Los Angeles is full of beautiful people.

OMG.  He’s so hot…

I sit down beside him on the couch and for the next 5 minutes we work out the normal “first date” jitters.  We’re both nervous.  The thoughts that normally come into my head start fluttering around…

What does he think about me? Does he like how I look? What should we talk about? Is he really that gorgeous? Is this real life??

I’m normally a pretty confident chick and rarely feel intimidated, but sometimes people get to me.

He waves over the waitress (whose name he got when he first arrived) and politely asks to see the drink menu.  We both order some fancy $17 martinis and then launch into conversation.

The jitters leave pretty quickly because he compliments me early on.  He tells me how beautiful I look and that he’s glad we finally had the chance to meet. (Finally? Ummm…you just sent me our first message online 4 days ago! But I’m not complaining.  I like to meet people IRL sooner than later to determine if there’s that in-person chemistry.)

We talk about a lot – our upbringings, how much he loves his 84-year-old granny, and what his friends call him as a nickname.  (“Pretty Boy” is one of them. Big surprise!)  This is where I find out how to pronounce his name…lol.  It’s what I thought, and it’s actually a pretty cool name – even missing the vowel that should be there.  😉

We also talk about what we do for work.  This is the part that gets “Hollywood” and for those of you reading this blog who don’t live in LA, you may enjoy this part a bit more.

So it turns out his brother is in the NBA and used to play for the Los Angeles Clippers.  He was his personal assistant, which means he had a front row seat to about as “Hollywood” as you can get here (at least on the sports side of things).  Athletes are also celebrities and that life epitomizes my favorite saying, “Work hard. Play hard.”  Those in their inner circle, live pretty much the same life.

He launched into numerous tales of what it was like to have Blake Griffin and DeAndre Jordan come hang out at his house, how the hoochie mama groupies would always show up at their hotels, and how crazy that lifestyle is overall.  I’m sitting there listening, both impressed and not-impressed as I’ve had my own moments of this lifestyle in LA, including standing next to Blake Griffin in the player’s parking garage after a game at the Staples Center.  Heck, I probably saw my date at one point or another during a game.  I use to live downtown LA and my friend who works for the Clippers would always hook me up VIP style.

He also tells me that his ex was Whitney Houston’s hairstylist.  And also, was the one who sadly, found her the day she died.  Strangely enough, we were sitting just across the street from the Beverly Hills Hotel where it happened.  Talk about epic Hollywood stuff.  Once again I think to myself, “Is this real life?”

I was born and raised in the Midwest with no television or interest in Hollywood, and here I am (again), smack dab in the middle of another now-normal conversation.

More Hollywood talk and a few more stories, and it reminds me of an important question I asked him on a previous phone conversation.  I ask him again:

“So, you’re not still involved in that lifestyle, right?”

His brother ended up getting hurt, traded and out for surgery and then rehab, so it’s been awhile since he was last “out on the scene.”

He repeats that he no longer lives like that and he never really loved all of it.  He’s more of the responsible, focused, quiet, laid back and humble kinda dude.

I’m glad, and reiterate that I wouldn’t be sitting here meeting him if he was still caught up in all that.  Just not my thing.  Been there, done that when I worked in the music industry.   It gets old fast.  I express how sad it makes me feel for those women whose identity is 100% attached to being seen with a “baller” and how it’s unfortunate that they define their self-worth by being associated with these guys and do almost anything to try get their attention.  Uck.

Frankly, that’s why my date first sent me a message.  I have a part in my dating profile that says “I’m not your typical LA chick!” And it’s true.

Before you know it, two hours have passed! We had no idea! We were having such a good time chatting that time just flew by.  That’s always a good sign.

We decide to get up and walk around the hotel a bit.

Just outside the door to the lounge, I hear piano music.  OMG! I love it!

We walk around the corner and find the luxurious “Living Room”, where there is a legit older guy in a suit, playing classical music on a piano.  I almost squeal out loud because I’m a classically trained pianist and miss playing so much.  Any chance to hear it live is a treat.  He’s excited that I’m excited and wants to listen, too.  I like his laid-back and go-with-the-flow vibe.

It’s late now….about 11:30pm and there are only a handful of people around.  We find another great couch to sit at so we can listen to the guy playing piano and also chat some more, but first, I excuse myself to use the ladies room right around the corner.

I mentioned how I love his communication style, but I also love how polite he is.

One of the ways you can tell how polite someone is, is how they treat the waitstaff.  All night he’s been saying “Please” and “Thank you, ma’am”…”No ma’am…”…”How you doing, sir?”… to people around us.

He’s also SO polite that when I return from the bathroom, he STANDS up and waits until I sit down before he sits back down on the couch.  Ummm, hello, Mr. Gentleman! He was raised right and as much as a progressive, independent woman of the 21st century that I am, I LOVE old-fashioned chivalry.  It is not dead, ladies and gentleman.  It’s just rare.

At this point in the date, it’s clear he’s interested and enjoying my company.  Same with me.  I ask if I can sit next to him and he’s happy to have me cuddle up and sit next to him on the couch.  He puts his arm around me and it’s a very romantic scene, folks.   The opulence of the hotel, the chandeliers, the mirrored marble fireplace, the music from the piano….mmmm.  Nice.

So nice, in fact, I pull out my phone and grab a short video for Instagram/Facebook. 🙂

We chat more about what type of music we both like.  He likes it all – just like me.  I quiz him on giving me a few names of country artists (just to see if he’s full of it) and he comes through.  Very nice.

We’re sitting there, cuddled up a bit, our faces very close to each other.  He’s staring at me and then gives me the sweetest kiss on the lips.  Just one.  Nothing crazy.  Quite nice.  We both smile and then go back to watching and listening to this man play more Mozart.

So it’s now getting late and we both have to work in the AM, so we get up and leave to go get my car out of valet.  He’s parked nearby so I tell him I’ll take him to his car.

The end of a first date is weird.  If you’re not having a good time, clearly it’s a bit easier to just bail.  But it things are going well, what do you do? If there’s chemistry, what then? You don’t want to drag it on too much too fast, but you also don’t want to cut a good thing short, either.

So he points to where he’s parked on the street.  I pull up behind his BMW and park.

(Shenanigans Blog Bonus: I normally don’t post the “kiss and tell” parts of the story, but you’ve read this far and want the good stuff, I get it.  So here you go.  You’re welcome, ladies. And guys reading – you can stop now if you want and just know it was a good date and I went home shortly after. :))

He reaches over to kiss me goodbye and it is no longer just a quick, small kiss.  Instead he proves to me that he wasn’t lying when he said earlier in the week that he was a good kisser.  I prove him just as right, by confirming he had met his match.  His lips are SO SOFT.  Omg.

We say goodbye about 5 times and then he wants a proper hug goodbye, so we get out of my car.

He’s all smiles.  Well, we both are.  He’s a very affectionate guy and he’s holding me and looking at me, smiling that infectious smile.

I shake my head and just giggle and say, “You’re so handsome.”

He smiles back and says, “And you’re so beautiful.” Then he starts kissing me again.

So now it’s really, really late and I have to go.  But he doesn’t want to let me go.  I don’t want to leave, either.  So we proceed to stand there, in between our two BMWs, on the pretty empty streets of Beverly Hills, outside of The Peninsula Hotel, kissing.  I’m in the arms of a gorgeous, tall, charming man.

My life is officially a movie.

We say goodbye about another 15 times, and then finally, we mean it.  He opens my door and I get in to leave.  He says he’ll text me when he gets home so I know he’s safe.

And I drive away, smiling, with my hand over my mouth, saying, “OH MY GOD.  That just happened.”

Is this real life??? Yes.  Yes, it is.  🙂