Words have no chance of describing the weekend I had. I spent the entire two days with the most amazing person.
Saturday morning I woke up and jetted over to the Fresh Market (remember I wrote about that place once?) to pick up bread, wine, import beer, fruit, cheese, deli meats, etc. for the hotel so we wouldn’t have to leave the room if we didn’t want. I also picked up Orangina, which makes a fabulous mixer.
However, after I arrived at the front desk, they inform me that my two rooms I requested are not, in fact, adjoining, but are somewhat near each other. I rolled with it after giving some S1 directive style (OTS joke). OT Hotpants, whom I will now refer to as Dicks (his last name, yes he is important enough to go from a nickname in my blog to a real name), arrived in a taxi a few minutes later and giggled at my snarky, sarcastic remarks to the front desk.
“Ma’am, where are you now?”
“I’m in the holding cell you gave me until you can get me my proper room!”
My room was a small shitty one without a desk nor minifridge, and as the maintenance guy was hooking up a fridge I made the front desk bring up for my groceries, Dicks and I laid side by side and glanced over the breakfast menu. I kept inching closer to him and laid back. It took all of my strength to not completely attack and ravage him… He always smells so good…
Dicks’ pad across the hall happened to be a huge, deluxe, poshy number, which I audibly cheered over and threw up my hands in approval when we walked in. “Hmm, I guess this is our base of operations, yes?” he remarked.
Out of his Marine-issue backpack, he pulls an entire bottle of Grey Goose as a gift for me, a card and small box, wrapped in green construction paper (stolen ninja-style from a dorm bulletin board!) … and the decorative curl ribbon was strips from the dorm paper shredder. I opened the box to find a set of 24k gold lieutenant bars; I was speechless. Totally floored.
I thanked him profusely for the thoughtfulness and we flopped on the bed and remarked about the ridiculously soft pillows (after living in the dorm for three months with the worst pillows imaginable) and, disintersted, looked at what HBO had to offer. After about an hour of talking about film and what the military was planning to do with us in the next few months, I inched closer and closer… until I finally curled up to his chest and started kissing him gently. Oh snap, look at me, making the first move. Shocking, I know. ♥
We spent the rest of the day in that general area until we finally got dressed (after about ten tries) & ventured out around nine-thirty to dine. I hadn’t eaten anything that day yet, but I didn’t notice. I wore a new black dress from Banana Republic and a pair of black Cole Haan heels. He hadn’t seen me in a dress yet, or heels for that matter, and was profusely singing the praises.
“But these heels are only 2 1/4″
… I usually sport 4” ones. Hm.
For the rest of the evening after we got back & literally all of Sunday, we just laid in bed together and talked about anything and everything; he remarked that he felt so comfortable around me, something he had never really felt before. He is adamant to take me to Germany, Italy, Brazil, Hawaii and Greece, to name a few. I feel like I’ve known him for a really long time, but in actuality it’s only been about eight weeks. Even then, we couldn’t really speak to each other (given the training environment) and if so, in short, 30 minute conversations after duty hours with roommates around.
We were giggling about checking each other out hxc in our ugly workout gear and uniform (He looks so good in blues. You know how some guys just look tailor-made for military uniforms?). Someone who can carry on about how hot you look, all sweaty in a big old tee-shirt and poofy long shorts must be enamored, really.
“You come off as this, I dunno, hardass, but you’re actually… very… tender in private…”
“Well, please don’t tell anyone my secret.”
I have to keep up my reputation, people. All leather & rock n’ roll…
He remarked that he thinks no one has “pampered me” before, which is exactly right. “You deserve better, I’m going to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” I know it sounds silly, but he made most of the front desk calls for various things, insists on opening doors for me, put the food away for us, offered and brought me water/cocktails if I needed them, let me have the first bite, or sip of a shared drink, draws the bath and makes sure it’s perfect, carries the heaviest bag (or offers), picks up the tab unless I thoroughly protest, and is pretty much amazing.
Checkout at the hotel was 11am.
— (10:40am) —
“Yes, I’d like to arrange a late check out. 1pm? Thank you.”
“I don’t want to leave; this is just too wonderful.”
“This sucks… Wish there was more time.”
We ended up checking out about 6:45pm to get him back to base by 7pm (curfew). It was agonizing watching him walk away…
I was talking with my mom and mentioned he was totally audacious to volunteer to usher my commissioning ceremony. It’s the only way for a lower classman to see an upperclassman get commissioned, but is usually reserved for trainees in your own squadron. He is from another squadron. He pulled strings to be there, despite my flight and squadron commander’s attendance, front row (he’s made quite a name for himself around my squadron from that Labor Day weekend – scandalous!).
My mom said: “He sounds like he’s sweet on you.”
“Well, I’m crazy about him…”
“I can tell.”
Everyone is driving in tonight! Can’t wait!