I wanted to date Jon Hamm. L.A. had other plans
Once I moved to L.A. to alter my life, Jon Hamm was on my thoughts. Sure, he was relationship somebody, and sure, I’m a decade older, and no, I’m not a film star, however I had a crush on him the dimensions of the La Brea Tar Pits. And at 51, I used to be brimming with hope, dedication and want for West Coast start-over/post-menopausal adventures, profession alternatives and nice romance.
After 21 years as an English professor in Ithaca, N.Y., I used to be prepared for all times past scholarship, instructing evaluations, grading and realizing completely everybody in a small, chilly and decidedly unglamorous city. Bedding Hamm could be a becoming “Goodbye to All That.”
I went on a whole lot of dates. These males and I had lunch at Cafe Gratitude, dinner at Musso & Frank and drinks on the Soho Home. Alongside the way in which, emboldened by my new life, I touched Ben Affleck on the knee and kissed Ellen DeGeneres on the neck. (These are tales for an additional time.)
I began out as a girl who didn’t know what it meant when somebody requested, “Are you within the business?”
“What business?” I’d reply.
I had by no means heard “inventive” used as a noun nor did I do know that “remedy” meant something apart from a medical process. After relationship a stuntman, a movie director, the brother of a well-known actress, an govt at Capitol Data and a man who made ice sculptures for the key award exhibits, I turned considerably well-versed in Hollywood lingo in addition to with the form of males you meet in L.A.
I got here to the unlucky realization that my earlier life as an educational made no sense to my dates nor was it even barely attention-grabbing. Having a PhD was about as spectacular as coaching worms to slither in a straight line. There’s little or no leisure worth there. To the boys I met, speaking to younger folks about concepts and artwork appeared like a nineteenth century exercise akin to embroidering within the drawing room.
We spoke totally different languages. Thankfully, during the last 9 years, I’ve made nice buddies, discovered job and had loads of horny experiences and not using a man escorting me.
Only recently I glanced at Bumble and noticed a good-looking man who was visiting from New York. He had graduated from my alma mater with a level in English!
We had a cellphone name, and never solely did he ask me concerning the courses that I’d taught again in Ithaca however after I described one in every of my literature programs, he made a “hmmmmm” sound that made me wish to meet him. I knew that he didn’t dwell right here, however he did come to L.A. usually for work (sure, he’s within the business), and since I am going to the East Coast occasionally, there was a risk for some form of relationship.
We met on the Malibu Farm bar overlooking the ocean. He seemed like Peter Lawford again within the day and had that Cape Cod-ish type, relaxed however cleanly clipped. We had been solely assembly for a drink, however it become a three-hour meal with laughter and chemistry after which some scrumptious kissing in his automobile.
I used to be extra drawn to him than anybody I’d met in L.A. Our texting the following day concerned a number of literary references. That evening, we met for dinner once more — this time, in Topanga Canyon as a result of he’d by no means been. My Peter Lawford was a little bit brusque — no touching and never a lot heat. I figured he’d had a foul work day.
“So, what are we going to do after dinner?” he stated.
I bridled a bit as a result of, regardless of the chemistry, I wasn’t able to sleep with him, and I guessed that he was hinting at that.
“We might stroll on the seaside?” I stated.
“I used to be pondering we go to your home or my resort.”
“I’m not fairly comfy with that …,” I advised him.
He put down his fork and gave me a steely gaze. “Why not?”
I took a sip of water. I desired this particular person, madly. However at 61, I wasn’t about to sleep with somebody I’d by no means see once more. “Each time I’ve been requested to go to a person’s place or we determine to hang around at mine, there’s an expectation of intercourse.”
“So, I’m each different man?” He glowered after which gestured for the waiter to convey the test. Inside minutes he was getting up, leaving a desk filled with meals. We stated goodbye.
The following day I texted Peter an apology as a result of, after all, he wasn’t each different man. I used to be pondering of his clever eyes, fingers on my face and his “hmmmmm” at my syllabus. He texted again: “I most well-liked to make out in non-public quite than a automobile in a car parking zone. You don’t consider me. That’s on you. You made me really feel soiled.”
I made him really feel soiled? Both he was kidding or he was approach extra delicate than I’d realized. I wrote again once more apologizing for reacting to him based mostly on previous expertise. He texted: “Okay. Wanna F—?” Was Peter a cad?
“A joke. Only a joke,” he wrote.
Regardless of our authentic connection, we didn’t converse the identical language, I suppose. One factor I’ve discovered: Right here or there, we’re all writing tales in our heads, on a regular basis.
In my head, a person exhibits up with wine and guide he’d like to debate, and we experience off into the sundown on the Pacific Coast Freeway. There’s no site visitors, and nobody feels pressured for intercourse. Nobody feels soiled till we do — on the identical time, and El Matador beckons. After which the credit come up.
The creator is a school counselor and a contract author. She’s ending a memoir about transferring to L.A. jobless and partnerless at 51. She’s on Instagram: @Kirstenwasson.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the seek for romantic love in all its superb expressions within the L.A. space, and we wish to hear your true story. We pay $300 for a broadcast essay. Electronic mail LAAffairs@latimes.com. You will discover submission pointers right here. You will discover previous columns right here.
