Mummers and Trains

The train riders yelled, "Yo, watch out!" as I entered the El by stopping the automatic doors from closing. Years of commuting have left me rather fearless, although part of me always wonders for a split second if those doors will actually open or will I be caught between.

I entered the Elevated train, my purse slung over my shoulder, with my heart pounding from the previous encounter that left me befuddled.

Looking forward to forty minutes to decompress, I slumped into an available seat when no sooner did a young man man screech, "Holy Hooters, Batman--Happy New Year." All eyes turned to me as I loosened my scarf, and I smiled. "Happy New Year to you, too." The baseball capped young man offered me Sambuca; I smiled, "I'm good, thanks."

I lied. I wasn't good. I was too damned confused and more than my share of disappointed to be good.

I met with Mr. Insistence for his penance; we decided to lunch in Chinatown.

I love Chinese food. The fact that he suggested Chinese made me grin, as one of the scripts that plays in my head when I'm bored at work has something to do with Chinese food and chopstick lessons. Anyway, a public place on a National Holiday seemed safe. He chose the appetizer while I perused the menu. I ordered Grandfather chicken and sipped my tea when the battle of wills commenced.

His blue eyes goaded me, "I know I'm on probation, but it's only natural for a man to want to have sex with someone to whom he's sexually attracted. I know you're attracted to me, and I sense a wildness, a passion that wants to be unleashed."

He ran his finger down my nose and gently touched the scar near my lip that the makeup doesn't quite hide. I won't lie and say that I didn't feel my pulse quicken; it is damned sexy to be desired. It's a powerful feeling to know that you can make a man want you, and I know that he does. However, he doesn't desire *me* as he doesn't know me. He desires the curves and the passion, which are only part of who I am.

I am not attracted to how he's been acting, and that's what kills things for me.

It's more than a fear of getting hurt which he believes is my reason for the hesitency; that fear is something to which I'll readily admit.

He didn't help me put on my coat, nor did he pull out my chair. I really didn't like those things. I could gently mention those things to him, and they are minor in the scheme of things. I didn't like the frequency of the expletives that came from his mouth, and I did tell him that. I really didn't like being reminded that I'm in my prime; I'm well aware of my needs and I do a damned fine job of keeping my libido in check. I am passionate in nature, but I need him to understand why I need more than the physical.

Sure, I loved watching the Mummers' String Bands and walking around downtown. It was such a relief to be with someone from the city and who understands the passion that I feel for Philadelphia. However, I really wished he didn't ask me to surprise him tomorrow morning again. I feel like our talk has moved us nowhere, and he's not understanding that I need respect more than I need the physical.

I don't know if I can explain myself any more clearly. I don't see any need to rush things.