Connect with us

Lifestyle

L.A. Affairs: An LAX flirtation had me on cloud nine. Could we land the plane?

Published

on

L.A. Affairs: An LAX flirtation had me on cloud nine. Could we land the plane?

My brother dropped me off curbside at Los Angeles International Airport and yelled, “Run!” Our timing getting to LAX was thwarted by the kind of notorious L.A. traffic that airline change fees and crushed dreams are made of. Departure to Newark, N.J., was at 8:05 a.m.

It was 7:25 a.m.

I raced through the terminal and up the escalator, two steps at a time, with a carry-on and boots that were not made for running. The line to get through security was a mile long.

“Am I going to make it?” I deliriously asked the TSA agent as I handed him my boarding pass, shaking from the mad dash.

Advertisement

Without a word, he whisked me past a serpentine of travelers and straight to the metal detector. I was baffled. Maybe he was psychic. I thanked him profusely and kept running.

I couldn’t miss this flight.

My mother insisted I fly “home” to New Jersey for my birthday — her treat. I was deep into a drifting divorce, disillusioned, depressed and avoiding the other “D” word … dating. I also was hiding from the unwelcome advances once the word got out. I felt perpetual dread and I felt wobbly. “Snap out of it,” Cher kept telling me in my mind.

By the time I got to Gate 40, I was giddy from shock and out of breath. I looked around and exhaled.

To my left was a tall, bald man wearing glasses and a tweed blazer. He looked familiar. “Who is that?” I whispered to the also tall, handsome man to my right, holding a coffee cup and wondering if I was talking to him.

Advertisement

He looked at me quizzically and squinted: “Isn’t that the guy who wrote ‘L.A. Confidential’?”

Bingo. Impressive. But neither one of us could remember his name. It was fun trying.

Suddenly, I felt compelled to tell this lovely man how close I came to missing the flight, how much traffic there was, how fast I ran, in boots with a heel, and how I imagined he‘d probably experienced the same exact thing minus the boots.

No. He had gotten there hours before, breezed through security and was on his third cup of coffee.

Boarding started. It felt like we both wished there were more time. “It was nice talking with you. Have a great trip,” I said and meant it.

Advertisement

“You too,” he said, smiling back.

Sparks flew.

After the in-flight movie ended, I looked up, and there he was. I waved; I was glad to see him again. I thought he was on his way to the restroom. He wasn’t. He‘d come to find me. It was good I had an aisle seat.

For the next two hours, we dove in, surrounded by strangers.

He’d spent the last few years in L.A. dating around since his divorce. He seemed as universally disillusioned as I was and had told his mom a few days before that he was giving up.

Advertisement

At one point, he knelt down in the aisle to get closer. His salt-and-pepper cool felt warm. He touched my shoulder a few times. I didn’t mind. He was confident, funny and very much a grown man who also seemed impervious to heavy turbulence.

People in the rows nearby could hear everything we were saying. Some were staring. Some climbed over him. Then the beverage cart came butting in. We made plans to have dinner when we returned to L.A. He gave me his card.

“That was incredible,” said the woman next to me, who had pretended to be asleep to give us some privacy. It was incredible. A big cloud lifted. I couldn’t stop smiling.

When I got to baggage claim, there he was again. I told him my mom was coming to pick me up. “Can I meet your mom?”

Her SUV was waiting exactly where we exited. She ran out to hug me and open the liftgate, wondering who this guy was carrying my luggage.

Advertisement

“Mom, this is Mark. We met on the plane,” I said.

“Hi, I’m your daughter’s new boyfriend,” he said as if it were already true.

Without missing a beat, she shot back: “Good, because you’re very handsome.” We said goodbye in a flurry.

“What happened to you on that flight? You’re different. You’re going to marry him,” my mom said emphatically.

I stuttered. I kind of believed her. I was different. Over the next week, we texted and decided on Terroni for dinner, a mutual Italian favorite.

Advertisement

He was waiting for me out front. We spent five hours in a booth drinking, eating and laughing. When we were in the middle of dessert, fireworks went off from the Christmas tree lighting nearby at the Grove. Everyone ran outside. He sat next to me when we came back in for the first kiss. We closed the place down. We didn’t want the night to end.

He made me an engagement ring out of a plastic swizzle stick a few nights later at a sushi bar. We didn’t feel like we were moving too fast. We felt like we couldn’t move fast enough.

With that, I had to move my divorce from stalled to finalized. Quick.

Both of our marriages had come to screeching halts very unexpectedly. He had years of healing under his belt. I was still in the thick of it. I was stuck in quicksand, and he helped pull me out. His patience was steady as I cut cords and untangled myself.

We had planned to get married at a rooftop L.A. restaurant, with skyline views past the smog, to symbolize how we met and fell in love. Exactly two weeks beforehand, however, my mother was rushed to the ER with critical embolisms. We flew a red-eye back East with my brother and his wife.

Advertisement

Miraculously, my mom recovered but couldn’t fly. We canceled the wedding. She was adamant that we still get married on the day we planned: July 8. It was July 7.

Because my brother was going to marry us anyway, we thought: Why not get married on the plane? Flying back to L.A. from New Jersey, the same way we met but in reverse?

And we did. Flying over Tulsa, Okla.

United Airlines published an in-flight magazine story about our on-the-fly midair ceremony with the headline, “On This Flight, I Thee Wed.” Ring-size steel hose clamps from the hardware store served as stand-in wedding bands. A flight attendant crafted a bouquet out of tissues.

“Do you believe in life after love?” I do now, Cher. I finally snapped out of it.

Advertisement

The author is a creative writer and producer who is directing the music-based documentary “Play That, Teo.” She’s a recovering stand-up comic, proudly from New Jersey and now residing in Los Angeles. She’s on Instagram: @olanadigirolamo

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.

Advertisement

Lifestyle

‘The Invite’ is a marriage comedy with sex and heart

Published

on

‘The Invite’ is a marriage comedy with sex and heart
What happens when a simple dinner party goes off the rails? That’s the premise of The Invite, a very good new comedy directed by Olivia Wilde. Wilde also stars alongside Seth Rogen as a couple who invite their neighbors over for a meal, played by Penelope Cruz and Edward Norton. And it’s a heck of a dinner party, full of frank talk about sex and its complications.If you like slightly absurd relationship comedies, check out these episodes:’Mr. & Mrs. Smith’ is a stylish take on spy marriageIn Tina Fey’s ‘The Four Seasons,’ marriage is far from a vacationConnect with Pop Culture Happy Hour:Letterboxd / FacebookOur weekly newsletterSupport Pop Culture Happy Hour+
Continue Reading

Lifestyle

L.A. Affairs: It’s hot when a man drives to me. But would this new guy make the trek from the Valley?

Published

on

L.A. Affairs: It’s hot when a man drives to me. But would this new guy make the trek from the Valley?

I met Dan on Hinge.

He lives in Woodland Hills, and I live in Venice. In Los Angeles, this is considered a long-distance relationship. In another city it might be nothing. Here, it’s a factor.

But I believe that with the right person, you can make anything work, so I stay open. I’m a native New Yorker, and if I were living in Brooklyn and a guy lived on the Upper West Side, that would be a 45-minute subway ride, which is truly nothing in New York. So with that same logic, I try to have flexibility with men in L.A.

When we started planning our first date, Dan suggested three options: a hike on mushrooms, a wine tasting or a walk on the beach.

Advertisement

A hike on mushrooms is something I’d only do with someone I already trust, not someone I just met online. I don’t do first-date hikes because I don’t like feeling trapped if the guy’s a dud. So I chose the wine tasting.

Then I learned the wine tasting was in West Hills.

On a Friday night, driving there from Venice would be insane. So I said I didn’t want to meet there because of the traffic. He suggested Malibu. That was also not ideal on a Friday.

I was getting annoyed — this was a pink flag because in my dating world, the guy is supposed to come to the woman’s neighborhood in the early days. I’ve gone out with plenty of men from the Valley who effortlessly suggested they come to me. It’s not rare or impossible.

I suggested he come to the Westside. I didn’t specifically say Venice, and in hindsight, I probably should have. He landed on Brentwood, which was manageable for both of us. On our first date, we met at an Irish pub on Wilshire Boulevard. He was cuter and more interesting than I had expected, and with the Guinness flowing, we had fun.

Advertisement

When I got home, he texted me: “Well, I like you 🙂 Less the tik tok and the lack of rock music in your life, but it’s not a deal breaker — there are other qualities 🙂 What are your thoughts?”

I noticed the slight negativity but was mostly dazzled that a man texted immediately after the date to say he liked me. In the modern dating economy, this felt rare.

The next day, both of our evening plans fell through, so we made a last-minute date. The wine tasting he originally suggested still sounded like fun, and although it meant me driving to the Valley, I was up for it now that we’d met.

We sipped flights at Malibu Wines & Beer Garden in its airy, romantic courtyard and played a flirty version of Truth or Dare. Halfway through, he dared me to kiss him.

We ended with sushi on Ventura Boulevard and a short make-out session in his car. He invited me to Thanksgiving at his uncle’s, which felt too soon, but also sweet.

Advertisement

After the second date, he texted and said he had his kids that week and was also hosting an event on Thursday, so his only day to meet was Wednesday. I said great.

On Tuesday night, he checked if we were still on, and I said yes.

Then he texted: “I’m flexible on time but not on location. I have a big event on Thursday, hopefully you can come to me again.”

My stomach tightened. This again?

So I texted back: “I drove to you last time, which was a bit of an exception for me especially in the early days, but the wine tasting location sounded special. Usually guys come to my area. How about we switch it up this time?”

Advertisement

He replied: “I appreciate the effort! Because of my event, I’d rather be close to a computer just if needed … Here is what i offer:
— I’ll come to your area anytime next week/end
— Lunch/dinner on me
I want to continue where we stopped last time 😉 No pressure of course, but let’s snuggle”

I responded: “Ok let’s meet next week. Snuggles sound nice … let’s see what happens …”

Then he wrote: “So I won’t see you tomorrow?”

I replied: “Unless you wanna come to me and bring your laptop along, let’s rain check until you have more flexibility.”

He said: “Dang, you are hard. I’ll let you know tomorrow around midday if it’s ok.”

Advertisement

And then — surprise — he decided to come.

He drove to Venice for a 5 p.m. date. He said his ETA was 5 p.m., and it ended up being 5:25 p.m., typical 405 Freeway.

When he showed up, he was in a cranky mood. On our way to KazuNori in Marina del Rey, I thanked him for picking me up and told him I think it’s hot when the guy comes to the girl.

“You’re just saying that because you want me to come to you more,” he said, not playfully, but aggressively.

That was basically the end for me. But there I was, in his car, heading to dinner. So I stayed pleasant and tried to make the best of it.

Advertisement

I shared that in the early stages of dating, I find it’s good etiquette for the guy to come to the woman’s neighborhood. He immediately disagreed and started ranting about how dating rules are ridiculous and how they swing in women’s favor. He resented paying for dates and declared he wasn’t looking to “sponsor a woman’s life.”

“If women want equality and equal rights,” he said, “then it should apply all across the board, including dating, and the man shouldn’t have to pay.”

I said women don’t actually have equal rights because we get paid less than men and often receive lower salaries than men in the same position.

I tried to change the subject and reset the mood, but he insisted we keep hashing it out.

I tried to explain masculine/feminine dynamics: providing and protecting, giving and receiving.

Advertisement

“What does the man get out of this arrangement?” he asked.

It was like watching someone’s personality warp into Mr. Hyde. Then he brought up another point: He’s a single dad of two kids, so he gets tired; and because I don’t have kids, that should factor into who drives where.

At this point, I was barely engaging and focused on eating my hand rolls, and I couldn’t wait to get home.

The check came, and I happily split it, wanting nothing further from him.

In the car back to my place, he remarked: “It’s obvious we’re never gonna see each other again.”

Advertisement

Obvious, but did it need to be stated?

Then he showed me a Spotify playlist he’d made for me of his favorite electronic music, because he knows I like EDM.

“Oh, that’s sweet,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s how I show interest. Through things like this, not who drives to who,” he replied.

When I got out of the car, we wished each other luck, and I headed inside and shut the door.

Advertisement

Two hours later, he sent me the playlist. I’ve yet to listen to it.

It wasn’t the distance that ruined it. It was the resentment. I’m not looking for a man who feels burdened by the effort. I’m looking for a man who sees the value of courting a woman in the first place.

The author is a writer, comedian and former psychologist who lives in Venice. She is the creator of the new vertical series “Manfari.” She’s on Instagram: @solange_neue and @manfari.show.

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.

Advertisement

Continue Reading

Lifestyle

Smithsonian chief emphasizes ‘accuracy and integrity’ after White House report

Published

on

Smithsonian chief emphasizes ‘accuracy and integrity’ after White House report

Lonnie Bunch III is the 14th Secretary of the Smithsonian. He’s pictured above in September 2017.

J. Scott Applewhite/AP


hide caption



toggle caption

Advertisement

J. Scott Applewhite/AP

In a memo addressed to staffers sent Tuesday, the secretary of the Smithsonian, Lonnie G. Bunch III, defended the institution after the White House issued a 162-page report that characterizes the National Museum of American History as a place which has become “subject to institutional capture by a radical, activist ideology that is fundamentally opposed to telling the noble, honest story of the great country we know and love.”

In his email, which NPR has obtained, Bunch wrote in part: “While there will always be room for improvement, this report is not a fair characterization of the work and totality of the National Museum of American History. At the Smithsonian, our work is driven by scholarship, accuracy and an uncompromising commitment to tell the fullness of America’s story. As public servants and the keepers of this institution, we are charged with helping a nation find understanding, hope and clarity and as part of that duty, we are dedicated to excellence, reflection and growth.”

He continued: “We remain focused on what grounds us: a steadfast commitment to scholarship, nonpartisanship, independence, accuracy and integrity. For nearly 180 years, the Smithsonian has worked alongside partners across government — from the White House to Congress to our governing Board of Regents — guided by our enduring mission to increase and diffuse knowledge. That purpose remains: to pursue knowledge with rigor and to serve the American public with clarity and care.”

Advertisement

The White House report was issued on July 4 by the Domestic Policy Council under the title “Saving America’s Story: How Ideological Capture at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of American History Erases Our Heritage.”

The council faults the National Museum of American History on a multitude of fronts, saying it underemphasized the Founding Fathers and early colonial and Revolutionary history; was not sufficiently celebratory of the country’s 250th anniversary; and that it engaged in “anti-white,” “illegal alien” and transgender activism.

It also accuses the museum of trying to “indoctrinate” teachers and students through its exhibitions, programming and teaching resources.

In the report, the council also specifically criticizes museum director Anthea Hartig, who has led the National Museum of American History since 2019 and is concurrently the president of the Organization of American Historians, calling her “an activist advancing an ideological agenda contradictory to the museum’s founding purpose of fostering patriotism.”

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending