We met at my sister Laura’s blood drive last year. I knew within five minutes I wanted to be with him. He said that he waited for what he thought was the correct span of time before he asked me out, but I think he just got tired of reading about my bad dates and wacky people hitting on me on this blog. We haven’t been dating for very long, but we’ve been together almost every day since our second date. He swept me off my feet and my toes haven’t touched ground since. We wanted to be sure this wasn’t just a passing thing before we blogged about it, but some people figured it out and started asking questions of me. Probably because Jim dropped a few hints here and there.
Last week Jim and I attended the Ambassador Hotel Wake with Kathy, my New Best Friend Forever. Mike of Franklin Avenue asked on his blog if we started dating recently. I guess that's a fair question, we were making out in a corner and Mike doesn't know that I don't make out with just anybody. But yes, the rumors are true - Jim and I are dating.
I was glad that I was able to meet so many bloggers – the aforementioned Mike of Franklin Avenue, Will Campbell and the new chick (forgot your name, sorry!) from blogging.la, and one of the Joshes from Curbed LA. I was glad to spend some time with Kevin Roderick from LA Observed. Although we’ve traded emails, I don’t think I’ve seen Kevin since he interviewed me four or five years ago for his article on downtown living. He was there signing books with his co-author Eric Lynxwiler (who is so sweet he drips sugar), so I knew Shannon from sha in la couldn’t be too far away. She showed up with one of my frequent sidekicks, photographer extraordinaire Craig Havens. Josh from Curbed LA asked if I could point out Carolyn from LAist and as if by magic, she stopped by our table. I wish he had asked for a cocktail waitress first, I was parched. It was also nice to see Joseph Mailander from Martini Republic and to meet his wife Lynn. I’m bummed that I missed seeing Mack Reed of LA Voice, losanjealous’ Ryan and whoever else was there that I didn’t see.
Anyway, it was a nice gathering but even though there were some nice speeches and genuine sentiment I wasn’t feeling it. We were gathering ourselves, getting our group together and coordinating the logistics involved in moving drunks from a bar in Koreatown to my new favorite super-secret-late-night-hangout when I stepped away from the crowd to take a phone call. After I hung up, there was this older gentlemen sitting on a stool a few feet away from me. He was alone and he seemed so very sad as he looked at the crowd of revelers. So I went up to him and asked him how he was doing and if he was enjoying the party. Turns out he was a musician in many bands that played the Cocoanut Grove. He was sad because he had hoped that a few of his contemporaries would show up and they could reminisce about the great times they had back in the day, but no one else showed. I think I was the most receptive audience this guy had all night, which is a shame because he had some great stories. One story rolled into the next and I wanted him to go on and on. Jim joined me a few minutes later and we just sat there listening to his stories of musicians and bandleaders he played with, the celebrities they played for, and all the wackiness that ensues when people are out for a night on the town. We talked about the significance it had for a girl to go to the Cocoanut Grove on a date, he said, “If a guy takes a girl to the Cocoanut Grove, then she knows – she’s in for a really good time. The Ambassador, that’s the biggest thing you could do on a Saturday night.” He was really sweet and I was very sad that we had to go. In parting, he told Jim that he was a really lucky guy and he hoped that we would have many happy years together. We hugged and I wished him all the best, but I don’t think he knew just how much I really wanted my wish (and his) to come true.
Afterwards, we waited at the curb for the valet to bring my car around and I felt a twinge of sadness. So many memories connected to the Ambassador and this guy’s stories were just a drop in the bucket. Years from now, I wonder what we’ll wax nostalgic over.