Smoochy-daisy!

I've started my farewell tour of the mid-Atlantic. I'm trying to catch up with the people I've completely neglected for the last 6-12 months (a.k.a. "friends" and "colleagues") and also reconnect with those folks I've known for 10 years in D.C. I already have a sense of who will be left behind and who will become a long-term long-distance friend, but I'm making the rounds in spite of my intuition.

Last night's session was with my buddy from my first D.C. job. We met when I was just turning 22 and had started an internship on the Mall as Press Girl! (cape not included). As with many offices, there was a "young crowd," basically GenXers, and the "adult crowd," everyone in their late 30s and beyond. We young folks had a blast--basically all dated each other, partied our cabooses off, and helped support a terrific institution. My pal from last night, EH, probably could have stood with the elder statesmen, but he often partied with us. Great guy. One of my favorite people.

Since I left the office to move to academia, we've always kept in touch. Lately we've been reduced to bi-annual beers, when we spend three hours getting totally caught up and laughing and then saying farewell until next time. Last night was no different. We grabbed some beers (hefeweizen weather! Wooohoooooo!) and grabbed an outside table on the Hill--no mean feat in intern season--and settled in to gab.

Stories of friends, stories of work, stories of our lives, the usual. Great fun, enjoyed ourselves tremendously. As usual, we walked towards my car to get him a cab. At the corner, we had a great hug. . .and then he laid one on me. Like grabbed me and kissed me and then left. Leaving me making some garbled laughing noise (I think I might have sounded like a hysterical bird) while I teetered across Pennsylvania Avenue to my car. To say I was flabbergasted maybe just covers it.

I called Diva T to share my news of the weird (she knows him), and after she wondered, "I thought he was gay! Why do men who I think are gay love you?", we decided this was a "never-gonna -see-you-again-smooch-for-the-road." To which I must reply, "why?" Is this a strike while the iron is hot scenario, or has this person liked me for a decade and done nothing? Thankfully my omnipresent exit strategy prevents me from overthinking this (tra la la! I'm leaving! Nothing has meaning in the long term! Tra la la!), but I'll share it regardless, you lucky pierres. . .