Mr. Basketball (a ten-year, five-part series)
PART I:
Junior year of college, during my first official long-term-relationship break-up (his ex-girlfriend had come to visit, spent Thanksgiving with his family and him, found some of my belongings in his house, put them in a box and called me at my parents’ house to tell me to pick them up FROM THE LAWN), I was housed on the same floor as some smoking hot university basketball players and one of them, in particular, ran around in my mind to a Ludacris soundtrack.
After flirting with him all semester, but keeping a safe, respectable, I-have-a-boyfriend distance, I muster up all of my courage to see if he wants to hang out. He answers his phone and asks if I am kidding (I am not). After about an hour, I convince him to come over. We make out and he kisses my shoulders and for the first time I’ve ever heard it from a man in my life, tells me I am absolutely beautiful.
We spend the next few weeks hoarding every minute we can together. My ex keeps calling, but I am having none of that.
My sixteen-year-old sister comes to visit, I introduce them and we have some drinks (I cannot control her). I go back to my room. THEY MAKE OUT.
I return my ex’s call in the morning and we get back together.
PART II:
Throughout the years, I stay in touch with Mr. Basketball, despite his indiscretion with my sister (it took time for that to heal). And one day he offers to visit.
He takes the train to Connecticut and we have a great time. We make more plans and he tells me he wants to take me to meet his family at their cabin in upstate New York. He sends me emails at work that are so romantic; one of them gets me FIRED FROM MY JOB.
We decide to meet up for his birthday at the end of the week and drive up to the cabin. I buy host gifts for his family and pack my bag.
He never calls.
PART III:
I set Mr. Basketball’s college roommate up with a whore friend of mine and they decide to get married. Neither Mr. Basketball nor I is invited with a date, so we spend the majority of the wedding making out in the handicapped stall of the bathroom. He tries to get me back to his hotel room, but I still remember his last few disappearing acts and decline.
PART IV:
Somehow Mr. Basketball and I get back to talking and he decides to visit me again. This time he apologizes for being flakey and when I finally have the nerve to ask him what had happened with my sister, he apologizes again and said that we look so much alike that it didn’t matter with which one of us he was making out.
(Side note: I wouldn’t have believed this, but I experienced it once, during a black-out, with two brothers, only to one of whom I was attracted, but the other one looked so much like a smiling/happier version of him and my body was totally fueled with vodka – it actually didn’t matter which brother it was).
We have some great talks and some fun times. And then he disappears again.
FINALE:
THE EMAIL I ACTUALLY SENT:
Hey. How are you? How’s work?
I’m hoping to enlist your help with something, privately.
As you know, I am moving to LA in July.
Unfortunately I seemed to have developed a 6th date curse - that is:
-I start dating someone, who is clearly very interested in me for almost always exactly 6 dates and then (though we haven’t committed to anything, nor have I suggested that)
-Completely freaks out on me and/or bails (something I would totally understand after one or two dates if I weren’t for what he was looking).
My friend Andy suggested that it sounds like about the time things “heat up," and that perhaps I am not good at that stuff - totally possible, but there are enough examples of things not “heating up," that I’m not convinced it’s a deficiency that a man doesn’t think I can’t overcome.
So I’m pretty sure it’s something about my personality and I guess I’m trying to figure out if it’s something on which I can work, so that I don’t repeat the same patterns in LA.
My sister and I have gone over it a lot of times and we thought you might be the best, unbiased person to help, because:
-you’ve known me long enough to tell the truth,
-you keep coming back into my life and
-you have never had any interest in a commitment with me.
Do you think you might be open to a discussion about this? Or you can write me back something that will hurt my feelings and never talk to me again, if that’s easier (but I hope not).
Please help.
I only have about 230 eggs left…
(totally inappropriate joker - possibly the reason?)
xx,
[Redacted]
Mr. Basketball takes his time responding. But when he finally does, he shoots back with:
“You are the FINEST woman. Change NOTHING. Find a man who knows how to appreciate all the goodness you bring into this world and you will bring into his life.”
I never hear from him again. And it’s okay. The 6th date curse is about to end.