I’m at my swank Phoenix hotel. About 90 from my company here last night. Another 500 arriving tomorrow. But my interests are elsewhere. My GPS is loaded with all the bars and out into the night I go. By myself. No fear. I need to be careful, loads of business contacts know I’m here.
Kobalt is inside a mall area, it’s 9.30 p.m., crowd dying, I have my first drink, ask the waiter to help me understand what’s happening in Phoenix. He’s helpful, then comes back and gives me his phone number, “call me at midnight, that’s when I get off”. Well that’s nice.
I head off to Apollo, a mix crowd, but at least a crowd. A group adopts me pretty quickly. I’m using the “I’m from out of town” true Hollywood story. Couple of guys hitting on me, but I’m not feeling the moment. I’ve got a cold, I’m jet lagged and I’m tired. I also whiny.
One of my new friends if 47, he looks great. He can’t decide whether to hit on me or pass me along to his younger friend. It’s a good conversation. The people in Phoenix are friendly.
Scanning the crowd, not really my scene, too old? not fashionable enough? I’m not on some conquest tonight. I know what I want when I see it. Middle aged and older guys, I’m wondering what are they doing here? Is this what I’d have to look forward to in a “totally out” mode. Saturday night nursing a drink, looking for love, going home alone. The reality of it all starting to sink in, it’s not a good feeling. Even if you were 22 last night, you couldn’t help but look at the older guys and say, “is that going to be me later in life.”
I’ve been lucky in my handful of relationships, even the ones that ended on a sour note. I’ve learned from each of them. I awoke early this morning thinking of Chris. He’s on a plane heading for Toronto. I miss him and now realize why.