Bad Luck with Nice Hotels in Strange Cities, Part 2

For Part 1 of this saga, introduced as evidence to support the assertion that my life is a joke, read here:

Bad Luck with Nice Hotels in Strange Cities, Part 1

(I started writing this post the Saturday (April 9th) I was still in Houston, hence the present tense passages!)

Being here is absolutely lovely. I am thankful for the opportunity to escape a bit for the weekend, and it has renewed my belief that I need to start taking mini-getaway trips (with Max the Cat, of course!) every once in a while. I just am fighting with my impulse to feel guilty for “letting” B. take me out for dinner(s) and drinks, to get a massage (editor’s note: we didn’t end up doing that), arrange my flights and put me up in this nice hotel (though I hope both of those were free of charge and from his points, since he frequently travels for work), buy me flowers…even though I didn’t ask for any of it and he offered multiple times before I accepted. But I also have to remind myself that it is not my fault that he is doing so, and that I owe nobody anything—not my time, emotions, body, affection, or attention—because they have done something nice for me. In the past, I have been very careful to pick up my share of the costs when men have offered to do something similar.

I just don’t think many men understand how disappointing it can be to realize that someone wants to date you when they at first gave the appearance that they were actually interested in you as a person without wanting anything from you. And when I say “wanting anything,” I’m not referring to sex, which people often assume when women say that. Especially in a professional setting, it really changes the dynamic and comfort level and it’s exhausting when it happens constantly. Just talk to me like a freaking person without having an ulterior motive; not that hard.

So as far as planning for today went, we left off last night with the decision that I would sleep until I woke (and then try to sleep some more) then let him know when I was ready to get pancakes/go get those massages he suggested we go get/go do anything else I decided I would like to do in the city.

I woke at 9:45 the first time (ick) because my body decided it would be obscene to sleep more than 6.5 hours. After some finagling, I was able to wrangle up another hour of sleep, but that was about the extent of it. I made coffee and leisurely got ready for the day, then messaged him at noon to mention another of the hotel quirks I’d discovered and ask if he minded if I got some writing done. He responded several minutes later and said, “No problem. I’ve got some errands to run…no rush at all. Plenty of quirks in all shapes and sizes haha”

But then things started to feel (even more) awkward…evidenced by our textual interactions during the day (spoiler, I did not see him again after our exchange Friday night!):

(me) 1:47 p.m. “True, haha! I’ll probably put writing and other to-do sorts of things on hold in another 30, I think.”

(B.) 3:02 p.m. “Ok cool! Should we get massages?”

(me.) 3:05 p.m. “If you’re still up for it, then so am I!”

As of 5:17 p.m., I have not gotten a response to that, so perhaps he’s offended that I was not chomping at the bit to hold his hand, go to his house to “help rearrange furniture,” etc. last night. -_-

Update: at 5:09 p.m. he forwarded me an email from someone who is looking for an assistant in the Houston area. The job would pay $50,000 a year. Which is cool and all…except I do not live in Houston and have no plans to move here. Especially given whatever is going on right now with this.

(5:40 p.m.) I have to admit, I am a little irritated right now. Yes, it was really nice of him to use his points to fly me down and put me up in this nice hotel. The flowers were nice, the food and drinks were nice. But to pretend that all that was because you were empathic about my horrible, heartbreaking experience and then use that as an opportunity to hit on me…? That’s not okay. At all.

And then, it was finally addressed:

FullSizeRender FullSizeRender_1 FullSizeRender_2 FullSizeRender_3 FullSizeRender_4 FullSizeRender_5 FullSizeRender_6Although he certainly didn’t come off as ungentlemanly during the conversation, it really irked me that he didn’t have any sort of understanding at how upsetting it was to go through that sort of bait-and-switch type of situation and have him knowingly hit on me (and he’s 13 years my senior and had never seen me in person before!!!) and then say that he “can’t control the timing on those things.” Seriously…? That’s all you have to say, after consciously ignoring everything I was going through and putting your wants (wants that were completely out of left field, mind you) before my needs? No thanks.

Needless to say, I hit the downstairs hotel happy hour that evening, where my night was filled with many whiskey sours and which ended with me lifting a “large Asian man” (as he called himself) who was impressed with my biceps and then drinking out of a very cute flower vase before hopping up to bed.Whiskey Sour Westin Hotel Houston Cafe…and yessss, there will be a Part 3! 😉

Self-confidence Sunday #16

Sometimes, people view the decision to forgive as weakness or a lack of understanding of one’s own worth. While I can understand that view, I have decided that in my own life, I will view my capacity to move on and let go of anger–as well as my ability to love and trust again in the future despite the horrible things he put me (well, *us*) through–as a sign of my strength, resilience, and loving nature. My worth was and is not diminished by his inability to treat me as though I am deserving of a faithful partner. S. was a lesson more than he was anything else, and I intend to learn what he was brought in my life to teach, painful though it was. Things will be so much better from here on out. <3

Bad Luck with Nice Hotels in Strange Cities, Part 1

(My first instance of “bad luck with a nice hotel in a strange city” actually came during a trip to Chicago on Valentine’s Day weekend last year, which I detailed here: Third-Rate Romance #1: Cross-Country Third Wheel)

So I’m not sure how I keep getting myself into would-be romantic situations that I go in thinking are assuredly platonic. I suppose I make the mistake of thinking that when I have given zero indication (and I do mean -ZEROOO-) that I am even open to the possibility of any romantic interaction with anyone at all, that they don’t assume I will be. Rather than punishing a new person for the mistakes of others I have encountered in the past, I try to take men at face value when they tell me they just want to do something nice for me or just want to spend time with me; basically, I like to believe they can be genuine human beings, as I know some outstanding men.

Pertinent background:

In February, a VU alumna introduced me to another alum (B.) who is 13 years my senior and who works at a company with which I would love to be involved for a very long time in the future. We emailed a bit and then set up a time to speak a couple weeks later (after my saga including the death in the family, initial break-up, and job snafu) when it worked with both of our schedules. We had a great, hour-long conversation by phone one afternoon during which we discussed coaching, school, careers, and related. He was very excited to do whatever he could to help out a young fellow alum, telling me about his path to his current career and the people who had helped him along his way. He told me that he had always wanted to be able to mentor someone else in a similar way, especially another Vandy grad.

So, fast-forward a little bit to this whole mess with S. in my personal life. I went off the radar for a bit after that happened (I was going to send in my application for a trainer position at the company and then get back to him), so I emailed a quick synopsis to explain that my life had been a mess and then reiterated my interest. He called me after receiving the email, and we played a bit of phone tag before connecting the next day. He told me how horrified he was while reading the email, told me how impressed he was after talking to me, and talked about my resilience and strength in the face of what would make most people become a complete mess.

B. then told me that he wished he could do anything at all to help because he felt so awful for me, and asked if I needed to get away for a couple days, since that’s what he thought he would need in that situation. He said he had points from traveling for work and he could fly me down so I could get away from everything for a little bit. I told him I would check my schedule, and when he checked in a few days later, I thanked him profusely and told him that since his points would cover it and I was free that weekend, it was a “go” for the trip. So everything was set, I was looking forward to the trip, and I had renewed confidence in people’s capacity for pure goodness, empathy, and kindness.

I flew out to Houston Friday and we did an early supper and margaritas. The conversation was great, as it had been on the phone the two times we’d spoken previously, and we discussed several thorny issues in coaching that are or have been factors for each of us professionally. He wanted to know how I was doing since finding out that I had been dating a sociopath, so we discussed that some and he talked about a heartbreak in his own past.

After that, he dropped me off at my hotel room so I could get settled. It was absolutely lovely. My first thought as I explored the room was that I could not wait to take a bubble bath and relax! (But seriously though, how can you look at this and not automatically think bubble bath?!)Luxurious Westin Houston Bathtub

And then I looked at the dresser…

Houston Surprise Flowers HotelOh God. “Just Because. From B.” The flowers he’d had delivered to my room were lovely and quite fragrant, but seeing those there immediately brought my guard up. Despite that, I was still hoping that this was going to be as platonic as it had been presented and that he was just a nice guy, so I went ahead and got settled and tried to take a short nap.

I texted him when I got up and let him know that I was ready for the next excursion which was (surprise/I love food) pizza and drinks at a local dive bar. As I waited in the lobby, I began noticing and documenting the….um, eccentric…decorative theme. Like it was organic vegetable garden meets ranchhouse meets forest thicket meets chic, upscale modern hotel. And the designer must have reallyyy liked broccoli because:
Creative Decoration Broccoli Westin Hotel Houston IMG_1776 IMG_1793

 

IMG_1782The enormous fake trees in the middle of the lobby were actually quite an inspiring touch though, as far as the writer in me was concerned, and I didn’t even mind the mossy wall display (note the cowhide chairs and chess theme!):

IMG_1779 IMG_1780 IMG_1795IMG_1771 IMG_1783 IMG_1810

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So he got there and I mentioned the interesting decor, and we discussed that for…I don’t know, but longer than I wanted to, certainly. Perhaps he was wanting to show that he was interested in what I mentioned off-hand, but he just seemed overly excited to talk to me about something that was pretty mundane after the first minute or so. That was my next warning sign that he was interested in me in a way that I did not–and would not–reciprocate.

The food at the bar was great, and I truly and thoroughly enjoyed our discussion. He’s a cat lady (well, in a manner of speaking) too, so Mr. Max spent much time at the forefront of our conversation. We met a former University of Texas quarterback, there in all his burnt-orange attire, and were in the right place at the right time to witness all kinds of drunken theatrics and drama (dear sir in the far right corner of the bar, I’m sorry that lady said that and I assure you that  there is a woman out there who thinks you would make an outstanding stripper).

But…then he started making comments about hating that such a “beautiful and sweet woman like [me] was hurting over such a jerk,” that one of my traits was “hot/attractive/etc.,” suggesting that I should go to his place sometime, and so on. And then, in the car on the way back to my hotel, he made his move. I had to gracefully but firmly pull away after he tried to grab my hand, and then left no room for questions on whether the night was ending or if I’d be going upstairs by myself. We agreed that I would turn my alarm off, sleep til I eventually woke up, and then we could reconvene.

But walking into the Westin, all I could think was, “Good God, not again. What have I gotten myself into?”

Day 2 up next/to be continued 😉

Self-confidence Sunday #15: A Champion Is…

Gotta get it all written down, but soon I will add a lovely (long) post about yet another ridiculous mishap related to men who pretended to have my best interest in mind…but certainly did not. Sigh. I really, really hate being hit on (and this was way more complicated than just that). More on that later though!

Life is pretty hard right now, so this is the best I’ve got for this Sunday’s post. It is a thought to which I cling tightly when it seems as though I can bear no more of life’s weight on my shoulders. [Excuse the meme’s grammar; next task will be to either edit this or find one that doesn’t butcher the whole singular/plural thing!]

A Champion is Someone Who Gets Up When She Can’tA Champion Gets Up When She Can't