He Hasn't Called & I Feel Like I'm Going CRAZY!

     Tyson & I headed to Sharky's on Washington to dance off some of our energy.  Before I knew it, it was 1:45 in the morning, and they were shutting the place down.  So we headed back to my apartment.

     It had been over six hours since we took the E.  I was still feeling waves of energy and emotions coming and going.  It felt kind of like riding a roller coaster.  For 20-30 mins, everything would feel normal, then the high would kick in again.  When that happened, I'd have the desire to touch Tyson, talk to him, and connect.  No wonder they call Ecstasy "The Love Drug".  I felt happy.  Euphoric.  Free.  No inhibitions.  Like a little kid.


    When we got back to my place, we hopped into the shower to cool off and calm us down a bit.  I definitely felt sexual and super touchy-feely. But I didn't necessarily have the desire to have sex.  When we toweled off, we climbed into bed next to each other naked and laid there waiting for our bodies and minds to settle down.  I could also feel Tyson's erection poking me in my side.

ME:  Will you be mad at me if we don't have sex?

TYSON:  No, I won't be mad at you.  I mean, I want to have sex, but whatever.

ME:  It's just, I want to just lay here and feel you.

Tyson was silent.

ME:  Plus, I heard that if you have sex while your on E it will never feel as good again.

He laughed.

TYSON:  That's an old wives tale.  I've had sex on it before, and afterwards everything was just fine.

I shrugged and cuddled in closer under his arm.  A few moments later, I could hear his breathing level off.  This was the first time he'd ever stayed with me through the whole night.


                                                          ***

     At about 9:30am, I heard someone moving around in my bedroom.  I rolled over and wiped a little bit of drool off of my chin.  The bed next to me was empty.  I looked over and saw Tyson peering at his own reflection in the mirror, and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

ME:  Good morning.

TYSON:  Morning.

He walked over and gave me a peck on the cheek.

TYSON:  I gotta take off.  My roommate needs a ride to pick up her car from the shop.

ME:  Ok.  I'll see you soon?

TYSON:  Sure.

He started out of the room, then turned back.

TYSON:  Drink some orange juice and go for a walk or something.  It'll help with the After-E blues.

ME:  Thanks.

     Well, the huge glass of orange juice I drank an hour later DIDN'T help.  Neither did sitting in the bottom of my shower crying for no apparent reason like I was in some 1980's movie starring Molly Ringwald.  I felt tired, depleted, and agitated.  So I fixed myself a huge salad, then cleaned my apartment from top to bottom.   By then, it was 4:30 in the afternoon.  I looked at my phone.  Nothing.  No call from Tyson to check up on me and see how I was feeling.  No call from my mom, or any of my girlfriends, not even a call from Marco.  No one loved me today.

    I tried to shake it off.  Maybe Tyson was right. Maybe a nice jog would make me feel better.  Instead of going on my normal route around my neighborhood, I opted for a run in Santa Monica near the stairs.  I changed into a Dodgers baseball cap, and old pair of cut off sweatpants with a Univ of Miami t-shirt.  I wasn't exactly winning any fashion awards today.

     It was your typical Southern California day. Bright, sunny with tons of people outside being active.  I remember thinking to myself, 'God it seems a bit TOO sunny out today. Can you scale it back a bit please?'  Then I realized my attitude was probably just the After-E blues talking as I put on my shades and did a few rounds on the stairs.  After stretching, I began a light jog towards the ocean.  Wow. This really DID work, I was starting to feel better.  Then I saw him.  But NO, that couldn't be him!  I stopped and dipped behind a palm tree as I looked at who I THOUGHT appeared to be Tyson sitting on a bench on Ocean Avenue with a tiny brunette.  I took off my sunglasses and rubbed my eyes.  He turned his face a little towards me and, yup that was him.

     My heart was pounding in my ears. I felt light-headed.  What was wrong with me? Why was my body reacting like this?  I'm sure it was just a friend, or maybe his roommate.  Then he leaned over and kissed her, and my heart dropped into my stomach.  The girl nuzzled up next to him and I could see that they were holding hands and their fingers were interlaced like lovers.  He'd never held MY hand like that. Then he pulled the girl onto his lap so that she was straddling him and I almost lost my salad.  I turned away from the scene and leaned my back against the palm tree trying to steady my breathing.  Who was this girl?!  Was it his girlfriend??  What was going on?

     By the time I turned back around, they had gotten up and were walking in the opposite direction.  I stopped myself from running up to them and saying hello.  Probably because my feet felt like they were being held down by cement.  I touched my face and felt wet tears on my cheek.

Who no longer has to wait by the mailbox for her unemployment check? THIS GIRL!

Spring has Sprung! The sun is shining. Flowers are blooming. And I've got a pep in my step because MAMA GOT A NEW JOB! I got a call to write for an online fitness magazine. The owner is an ex Mr. Olympia. A good looking brother in his early 50's. Charming. Full of smiles and compliments. And built like a brick shithouse.

After reading several of my articles and conducting a Skype interview, it was finally time to meet my new boss in person.

 The BE FIT Magazine headquarters were situated at the top of a tall, swanky building in Century City. The office had sprawling views of Los Angeles from the beaches in Santa Monica to the hills of Hollywood.  Mr. Fit sat behind his large Carpathian elm desk with his feet propped up Mad Men style.   He dismissed his assistant who had escorted me in, and walked around to shake my hand.  His eyes slowly took me in from the fedora titled on the side of my head right on down to my Giuseppe Zanotti platforms.

"Giovanna!  It is my deepest pleasure to meet you.  You are even more beautiful in person."

I blushed and took his hand as he kissed mine.

"Wow. Thank you. It's very nice to meet you as well.  I love your office.  The views are incredible."

Mr. Fit walked over to his wet bar and began pouring himself a cocktail.  I felt like I was meeting with J.R. Ewing.  Everything's bigger in Texas, they say.

And apparently Mr. Fit was too, or so his super tight trousers hinted.  By the way -who in the hell drinks a double whiskey on the rocks at 11am?  Mr. Fit gestured as if to ask if I wanted a drink too.

"No, I 'm good. Thanks."

"Well you're welcome to come enjoy the views here whenever you like.  If you've got writer's block, come on down here. I'll set you up in one of our spare offices."

"Thank you very much. I'm really excited about writing for BE FIT," I said taking off my hat and placing it in my lap.

Mr. Fit walked around to my side of the desk and leaned back against it just a foot or so away from me. "Giovanna, as I said during our teleconference, I want to encourage you to bring your young, hip style to our publication.  I don't want those tired how-to workout articles.  They've been done to death!  I want fun. I want adventure. I want sex."

I coughed and nervously tucked my hair behind my ear.  "I'm sorry. Did you say you want sex?"

"Yes!  Sex," he said emphatically.  "I want to make this into a sexy magazine. And by sexy, I mean edgy!  I want your articles to lead the way in innovative new workouts.  If the latest craze is couples taking tantric sex swing classes at Equinox-I want you to be the one breaking that story.  Get into those classes! Swing on those swings!"

I took out my notebook and began scribbling furiously.  Partially out of embarrassment but mostly so he wouldn't see me hiding a laugh.  "Well, I'm actually single. So it might be hard for me to attend a couples tantric sex swing class, " I said.

He took a swig of his whiskey and walked towards the windows. "Ahhhh, single. I remember those days. Best days of my life." Mr. Fit climbed up into his window ledge and pressed his nose against the glass.  "Now, I'm just an old married guy stuck in a loveless marriage."  Placing his glass by his feet, he suddenly stepped into a handstand.  Where in the hell was I? Cirque du Soleil!

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I'm sure married life can't be that bad. Um. I know there's a window there and everything, but you're kind of making me nervous."

He turned right side up.  "You're right. I got three fantastic kids out of the deal. The self-involved, manipulative wife must've been the bonus."

"So...no cocktail parties at your house I take it?"

He laughed just a little too loudly.  "I wouldn't do that to my staff.  I'd like them to stick around.  Enough about me!" Mr. Fit hopped off of the window ledge and I inhaled for the first time since I walked into his office.

"Beautiful Giovanna, let's get you out there on your first assignment.  I want you to write an article on how you stay in shape.  Seven days in the life of Giovanna.  I know our readers want to know how a young, hot, single gal like yourself keeps your body so tight."

I smiled and fumbled to put my notebook back into my bag.  "I can definitely do that.  I've been wanting to take a new yoga booty ballet class at my gym.  So this will be my motivation."

Mr. Fit walked alongside me as we headed to the door of his office.  "I can't imagine you'd need any extra motivation.  I can tell you're ambitious all on your own." As I reached for the doorknob, he put his hand against the hard wood to stop me from opening it.

"If you need anything at all Giovanna, you call me. Anything. I get this feeling around you like I just want to take care of you.  Here's my personal cell phone line."  Mr. Fit handed me his business card.  "You can call me anytime of day or night on that number."

I accepted the card and reached out my hand for a firm shake. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Mr. Fit took my hand and pulled me in for a big hug. That lasted just a little bit too long.

"Good luck kid. Knock 'em dead out there!"

I smiled and waved almost tripping over a flower pot as I walked towards the exit.  The receptionist pursed her lips and shot me a knowing stare as I said good-bye to her.

This job was going to be interesting.