Bus Boy

On a bus ride to Woodstock one Friday after work, I sat next to this pleasant-looking guy, and we struck up a conversation. I noticed he was wearing a wedding band, which, as far as I was concerned, meant he was completely off-limits. I thought, Well, just because he's married doesn't mean I can't talk to him.

We had a fun, flowing conversation throughout the two-hour trip. When he asked what I "do," I told him I'm an assistant at an advertising agency, and also, I write stories about my life for my website.

When the bus arrived at his stop, we said our friendly good-byes. As he was leaving I handed him one of my Laura's NYC Tales business cards. He said, "I'll check out your site, and send you an e-mail."

"Uh, huh," I replied, not thinking too much of it.

Later that night, I checked my e-mail. Surprisingly, he had already sent me a message. More surprising was what it said: "Man o' man, do I have a crush on you. You are one extraordinary woman. Please write back."

My first thought was, "Wow, I'm flattered," but an instant later I came to my senses. Wait a minute... this guy's married. What's this crap he's trying to pull? I wonder if his wife knows she's got a bad little boy on her hands?

I e-mailed him this reply: "I have a question for you. You said on the bus that you were, 'Married, but not really.' Is your wife really married?"

I didn't hear back from him until Monday morning. "How about we meet tonight for a movie to discuss?" He suggested we meet in Bryant Park, to see one of their free outdoor movies.

Hmm... would it be immoral to meet for a movie? Yeah, probably, but I was feeling a bit mischievous myself. From a literary standpoint the situation was quite tempting: What was his story? Was he really up to no good, and hoping to play it out with me?

I sent him an e-mail agreeing to meet in the park around seven. I was looking forward to our "date," but he ended up canceling on me at the last minute -- so much for our Bryant Park rendezvous. Free for the evening, I had dinner with my father and stepmother. When my stepmother asked, "What's new?" I told her about this married guy I had met on a bus ride that seemed to have more than a platonic interest in me. I filled her in on what he looked like, his age, and some other particulars.

Casually, she commented, "Wouldn't it be funny if he were Janet's son?" (My father and stepmother have a house in Connecticut, and Janet is a friend/neighbor I'd once met.)

I asked, "What's Janet's son's last name?" (I knew this from his e-mail address.)

When my stepmother said his exact name, I shrieked, "Oh my God -- that's him!"

I was someone his parents already knew! I had been to their home, and had even met the family dog!

The next day, I sent "Bus Boy" an e-mail about the crazy, six degrees of separation thing. I reckoned he would disappear into a poof of smoke, but no -- he thought it was cool, and was still interested in seeing me. And I was still interested in seeing him, the unknowing subject of a future exposé.

We met for lunch the following day in Rockefeller Center. When we were talking on the bus I hadn't felt uncomfortable in any way, but when I saw him again everything seemed full of deceit. He was deceiving his wife by being there with me (girl he wanted to cheat with), and I was deceiving him, knowing I had no intention of ever fooling around. I just wanted to get a story out of it!

While we were at lunch, he didn't talk about the situation with his wife, and I didn't ask. It was told later in an e-mail: "I've been down the 'work things out' road for quite some time. My feeling now is even if we were able to patch it up and make it bearable, it would never be great. And, unfortunately, I only get one go-around in this world."

I made a point of stating early on that he wasn't going to score with me: "It doesn't take great detective work to deduce that you might have inklings of wandering into grounds you shouldn't. If you ever did, it wouldn't be with me. I'm too wise, and I think too highly of myself to knowingly get involved in a bad news, no-win situation." Yet following this firm declaration I teased, "Does this mean it's over between us?"

Once again I thought he would lose interest, but he wasn't so easily swayed. He wrote back, "I hope not!!!"

Those e-mails were sent on a Friday afternoon, and the following Monday morning he wrote to say hello. I poked for trouble when I wrote back, "Feel a tinge of guilt this weekend, knowing you've been corresponding with a girl with whom you've had immoral thoughts?"

His reply: "No guilt here. And why is it immoral just because I'm dying to see that great bod of yours in the flesh?"

The Sleaze-O-Meter nearly went through the roof after that one, but I got a kick out of it. I mean, aside from catcalls on the street, what girl doesn't like hearing she has a great body? I wrote back, "Because you should be thinking about your wife's bod, not mine. Do you like me just for my body?"

His winner-of-a-response outshone all possible expectations: "Actually, your body is last on the list. First is your bubbly personality, then your incredible sexuality. Last, but not least, your incredibly intoxicating body."

(My body is fine, and nice, but to say it's "intoxicating"? That's stretching it a bit too far, if I do say so myself. And so is calling my sexuality "incredible.") I thanked him for his compliments, and then asked if he felt guilty for looking to stray while he was still married.

He replied, "As for guilt, only those that do bad things are subject to guilty feelings. I am 100% convinced every person has a right to pursue their own happiness. And I have no guilty feelings about pursuing mine. Actually, you're the first that has really tempted me... Anyway, I understand your position. But I can't shake the feeling that if you really dug me, there would be room to work out an understanding between us."

An "understanding"? No, thanks, really -- I don't think so.

Again I told him I had no interest in getting involved with a married man (my friends would disown me if I ever did that). Preachy me also said, "I hope your wife knows you want out. If she doesn't, she needs to be told. The sooner you start the process, the sooner you'll both be able to move forward, and get on with your lives... good luck."

He wrote back, "Thanks. Have a good life."

Two days later, I sent him this message: "Hi. I just read over our past e-mails, and I must admit: I'm guilty of being a tease. Sorry, I didn't mean to mess around with your feelings -- that's the last thing you need." It was nearing the weekend, and I asked if he would be heading upstate on the five o'clock bus.

"I don't think you've been a tease at all. I'm an adult. I know the 'drill.' Really, you are guilty of nothing. I'm the anti-guilt guy... Yep, I'll be on the 5:00. And I've got nothing to do on Saturday. Any interest in a ride in a big convertible?"

"I can't help but feel that seeing you is the wrong thing to do. I suppose I have a guiltier conscience than you, and I'm not even the one who's married! But running into you on the bus is no problem. See you there." As things turned out, we didn't see each other on the bus - the driver split the lines, and we wound up on separate buses.

When we returned to work on Monday, our e-mail banter continued. He wrote: "I didn't think of it that way. I thought of it as: I've got a free Saturday, so let me see what my buddy: 1) Rob is doing, 2) Kurt is doing, 3) Laura is doing... No crime no guilt. Now, if we did 'it' there might be some issues. But as far as hanging out and shooting the breeze, no crime there."

I commented, "So now we're 'buddies'? C'mon, do you really think it's possible to be just friends?"

"I have no problem at all hanging out as friends. I can control my libido (strange for a man, eh?). Are you worried you can't control yours (boy am I flattered!)? Maybe it's because I've been through the ringer and got my nose burned that I'm not jumping into anything. We can hang out and have some laughs and some beers, but as far as anything else: Whoa! Let's take it one step at a time."

I could hardly believe he would be interested in being friends, but then again, who knows? Although quite skeptical, I was curious to see how the "just friends" thing would fly. The next day I sent him an e-mail, inquiring if he'd like to meet for lunch sometime soon.

"Sure, why not? Call me whenever is good for you."

A few days later, I wrote again. "How about today?"

His classic response: "Can't do today -- meetings, meetings, meetings. Maybe tomorrow."

Well, guess what? For me and Bus Boy there was no "tomorrow." The once-cascading river of e-mails sent between us quickly dried up, leaving in its wake a parched riverbed, lined ever so thinly with memories of what was, and what could have been. I don't know about him, but I'm not exactly lamenting.

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I was directed to your website by a "friend" of Brian's [a.k.a. Bus Boy] who thought I might be amused to read a story about someone we knew. How do I know your "Bus Boy" is the same guy I know? Well, actually Brian was the one who told my ex-boyfriend about your site, if you can believe that.

I met Brian about two years ago. I was the girlfriend of one of his co-workers, and we all got together for a drink. I didn't think much about him at first, but in the two years that followed, the stories I was privy to about Brian changed my impression of him entirely.

The stories that came down the pike about Brian's life came directly from Brian himself, and were told to me by my ex-boyfriend. Brian's escapades could very well be the inspiration for one of those bad movies on Lifetime, entitled, "The Diary of a Sex Addict: His Triumphs and Ultimate Demise."

To simply say that Brian is a guy on the prowl for any woman in a skirt would be like saying it snows a lot in the Arctic. He roams the office he works in, and the offices he visits abroad, for any female that will say "yes." His roaming around for new encounters has ultimately killed any potential he has in his company to move ahead. This is because for some inexplicable, self-destructive reason, Brian brags to all the guys about his exploits. His reputation is so well known in several of the different offices abroad as well as in NY, that he is the butt of every office joke and consequently no one takes him seriously, including his superiors. In fact, he has been reprimanded by his superiors to no avail, and has been given a final warning that he is not to "fraternize" with any of the female personnel. There are those among his co-workers who feel his days are numbered because there is little doubt that Brian can "control" himself. This has only served to keep his mouth shut, but alas, not his pants. He continues his prowl though different offices for new encounters, and his co-workers do not feel comfortable working with him when they go abroad. He is truly an embarrassment as a representative for his company and his traveling schedule has been altered considerably because of this.

He is now divorced. His wife found out about one of his affairs in Brazil (had she known about ALL the others, I don't know what she would have done). He now lives "alone" in Manhattan and to combat the "loneliness" he tells his co-workers he suffers acutely from, he utilizes several Internet dating services to supply him with new women to assuage his loneliness. He has bragged to my ex-boyfriend that he dates several different women a week, and has even invited my boyfriend along on a double date!

I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. I guess your story intrigued me, and I thought mine would interest you as well. I suppose one should actually feel sorry for Brian, because I truly believe he has a problem. Perhaps now the "mystery" of why the river of your communication with him dried up has been explained. You had a brain - a criteria that any woman Brian ultimately conquers must not have for his success.

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