"Carolyn's stories are like a cozy blanket, a pair of stretchy pants, a lifetime movie, and a pint of ice cream to come home to after a DUMB! dating experience. It makes you breathe a sigh of relief and think "Phew! Its NOT just me!!!!!!". -- Ozlem (my hairdresser)

Love the blog Carolyn!! Just read every entry - it's all great! really interesting and a lot I could relate to-- it's hard for me to imagine you having any trouble meeting guys, but I love the honesty and openness of your voice.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

"Your Hair is Like Cotton Candy"

Liz's friend Brian had an extra ticket to a rock concert at the Hollywood Bowl last night and invited me to join. I crammed into the Saab SUV with five other people, including the very nice driver, Scooter, who looked like an 80s rock star groupie- or as Liz described him, like "David Lee Roth's less successful brother." We drove the short distance to the Bowl and valet parked.

Brian took care of the tickets and his friend Kurt organized buying the booze. "Who's Kurt?" I asked Liz. "Totally single," she replied, "and he knows you are too". I examined him more closely just as he was jumping up and down and said "I have to go pee".

Upon his return, I followed Kurt to the Market. "I've got this place wired," he said, as we walked into the "Exit" of the wine store. "Excuse me sir," said the male attendant, "you can't enter this way, you have to go through the entrance like everyone else."Kurt smiled, "Oh, I'm with my friends who are already in there," he said, pushing through, waving to a strange woman inside.

He grabbed two bottles of chardonnay, a bottle of red and a beer. "You should probably go get our place in line," he said. I foolishly looked for the end of the line, already knowing Kurt would finagle his way to the front. He found two cute girls near the register and offered to pay for one of their beers in return for cutting in line ahead of them. "For $6.50, I saved 30 minutes," he said.

Watching the male attendants reduce a bottle of Cabernet to a Venti-sized clear plastic cup with a lid and straw, revealed just how easy it is to drink an entire bottle of wine. With a full supply of liquor organized for the evening, Kurt wrapped his hand around my waist and led me through the crowd.

We found our seats and Brian was immediately apologetic about the tickets he purchased. He pointed out an area right in front of the stage where he sat at the last concert and apologized profusely for not having tickets that were closer. Here we are at a rock concert at the Hollywood Bowl on a beautiful summer night in good seats with fun people, great music and good wine. I could not have been happier.

I sat next to Kurt. He's in his early 40s, fit, has a full head of salt and pepper hair and is a little ball of energy. He was wearing jeans and a white cotton dress shirt with his initials embroidered on the left hand side. "Everyone gets their initials on the pocket," he said, "I'm the only one who gets them here," pointing to their strategic positioning, just below his ribs.

He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite place my finger on who it was. "People tell me all the time that I look like John McEnroe," offered Kurt, "and I know John, but I'm better looking."

Kurt grew up in New York's upper east side and currently lives in Santa Monica. I thought Kurt worked in the entertainment industry specifically because of his crisp energy, resourceful bartering skills to get ahead, and intermittent petulant behavior. However, Kurt more fittingly heads up his own toy company. "I observe what everyone is doing individually and then put certain people together to create winners, and let the losers fall out," he said, "That's just the way it is."

During the show, we traded seats back and forth, and at one point, everyone had left for the restrooms, except for me and Brian. He leaned over and casually mentioned, "You've probably noticed how small Kurt's hands are, right?" I like strong hands on a man. I always have. I like hands that look like they know what they're doing, and can hold me, or protect me if required. Hands and the nape of the neck are body parts I take particular interest in when I meet a guy.

Kurt is about my height, perhaps an inch taller. I noticed his hands were small, but in proportion to his size. "He's had some really beautiful girlfriends," said Brian, "and they've all told me he's small, but that he knows how to use it." About an hour had passed since I met Kurt, and Brian is already confiding in me about Kurt's sexual prowess. I wondered if he read my mind, or was reassuring me just in case I had any interest in sleeping with Kurt, and knew I had assumed he had a small dick.

Kurt returned shortly thereafter and sat next to me. "Your hair's like cotton candy," said Kurt. It was a rather humid summer night. On nights like this one, my curly hair sucks up the moisture in the air and can become quite... voluminous. "I really want to touch it," he said, "but I'm afraid I'll lose my hand." I laughed out loud as he glided his hand up my neck and under my hair, grabbed a section and tugged.

Halfway through the show, I noticed half the cup of red wine was gone and I think I was the only one drinking red. Kurt leaned over and kissed me. He was a good kisser and I suddenly realized how long it had been since I had actually been kissed. Keith (What's the Catch?) popped into my mind. I have yet to go out with Keith, yet I imagined what it would be like to kiss him. Kurt leaned over and kissed me again.

Once the concert was over, Scooter pulled the car around and we all piled in for the short ride to Teddy's at The Roosevelt Hotel. I haven't frequented trendy Hollywood clubs in quite some time and since Brian knew the doorman, he released the velvet rope upon our arrival and guided us to a table, complete with multiple bottles of booze and mixers. Kurt poured me a vodka cranberry.

As I headed to the restroom, I surveyed the crowd and thought back to when I first arrived in Hollywood many years ago. Not much has changed... Inside the restroom, girls complained about the guys they were with and strategized how to bag the B list actor at the corner table. Other girls fixed their makeup, teased their hair and adjusted their barely-there dresses to reveal just the right amount of their breasts and legs before walking back into the club. I had a déjà vu moment, remembering how insecure I felt back then, just like some of these girls do now, not realizing how beautiful and unique they all are.

Back at the table, Kurt poured me another drink as Brian maneuvered for a better table up front, next to the supermodels, from the host who sat down two young girls next to us, offering them drinks. The girls chatted for a bit before disappearing into the bowels of the club.

I was feeling the alcohol and knew I would hate myself in the morning. But here I was reliving a moment from my 20s and enjoying every minute of it. Kurt scooted in closer and kissed me again. I couldn't believe I was making out with some guy in a club... just like the old days... hoping, praying no one noticed.