First Class Frank: Round Two, Part One

WTF? Really? Him again?

First, a random side story/rant session:

What a beautiful day it was today. So nice in fact that I decided to drive around with my windows down. I was searching the radio for some good tunes at a light when I hear someone yell, “Hey…”

Well I looked over and see a car of young adolescent boys, probably just old enough to be driving. As I look over, one of the young men in the back of the car sticks his head out of the driver’s side window and yells, “I think about you when I masturbate.”  The entire group of lads proceeds to burst into fits of laughter.  Looking back, I should have said something witty like, “Well if you had a better pick up line, then maybe you wouldn’t have to give yourself a hand job.” But I was slightly shocked at this boy’s forward, and strange, confession. So what could I say but, “Thank you…?” I suppose it was, in a way, a compliment.

But now my question is this, what did he expect my response to be? Did he want me to be embarrassed and ashamed? Or did he want me to stop my car, get out and confess my undying love to him? Was that comment supposed to make me swoon? It definitely did not. Why do men say things like this? I just don’t understand. Maybe, if I keep writing and compiling all my strange dating stories, something will become clear…

Now, back to the main story.

Yes, and I totally blame myself for this repeat. Now I know better, but then not so much. It all started when I decided to send care packages to some friends from High School. Everyone could use some cookies and brownies and such. In the post breakup mental state I was in, I began to feel guilty for breaking up with First Class Frank. I started second guessing my decision and stated to realize that I had never really given him a fair shot. I hadn’t gotten over Mr. Granola enough to really put my all into my relationship with Frank.

So with this thought in my head, I went ahead and sent him an apology with some cookies and treats. I hadn’t spoken to him in a while and received a call from him within a few days of sending the care package. After that call we spoke to each other frequently; almost every day. We became pen pals in a way, sending each other cards and notes, and speaking on the phone and emailing.

Spring break was right around the corner and he invited me out to see him. He lived in a warm location with a wonderful beach. I was hesitant to go but figured it would be nice to visit, and there was the added bonus of seeing some family while I was out that way.  So I looked up some cheap air fare and made plans with my family. This would not be the first or last time I’d travel long distances to see Frank.