Dating Blogger Amy: EVon Calling

EVon, part I:

I moved to New York to attend NYU around three weeks after my 18^th birthday. Shortly thereafter, I stumbled into a weird, pretentious nightclub scene thanks to two people: Old Jewman and EVon.

O.J. is a creepy, old (think 50s) coat designer who accosted me at the Hudson Hotel Bar three weeks after I moved to New York. A play:

O.J.: Oh my god. You’re gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink.

Me: (stunned silence)

O.J.: Come meet my friends

O.J. flitters away to his “friends” and I hang back, confused. O.J. returns and takes me by the arm.

O.J.: Do you want a drink? Tell her (he motions to the cocktail waitress)

Me (still stunned): Uhhhhh… A cosmo?

O.J.: You know what I do for a living?

Me: What?

O.J.: I design coats.

Me: Ooooooh. Really?

O.J.: Yes for Arden B., Bebe and we just added a new one—guess who.

Me: Ummmmm, I don’t know…

O.J. (proffers business card): Calvin Klein.

Me: Oooooh… Wow.

O.J.: You should come to my showroom sometime.

Me: I would love to.

O.J.: We’re going to a Stuff magazine party at Pangea after this. You’re coming with us.

Me: Oh—ummmmm, I don’t know…

O.J.: Come, we’re leaving soon.

Me: Uh… Ok?

O.J.: Come meet my friends.

O.J. dragged me over to what he would call his “crew” and forced me to shake hands with them. I would later learn, after a year and a half of hanging out with O.J., he did this with every girl he saw out whom he found pretty. Lord knows what that night’s ‘crew’ thought of me at the time.

I conferred quickly with my girlfriend when we finally had an O.J.-free moment. I convinced her we might as well ditch the people we had gone to the Hudson with and roll with O.J. et al to Pangea. After all, we hadn’t been yet but heard it was “amazing” and that we “had to go”. (Looking back, I do miss Pangea. It was oh so conveniently located downtown and was usually just all-around fun.)

But I was thoroughly impressed with O.J. at the time. I thought he was someone. Now I recognize my naivety (not necessarily for trusting the situation and O.J. as much as for thinking O.J. and Pangea = cool). In my 18-year-old mind the perks outweighed the potential pitfalls. Yes, O.J. creeped me out, but hello? Free coats and unlimited drinks (and later drugs) and V.I.P. access everywhere we went.

But back to the topic at hand: EVon.

I decided I would need a hot guy for the night if I were going to Pangea. I figured I’d pluck one from The Crew. When O.J. finally relieved me off his nauseating presence, I noticed my girlfriend talking to the only cute guy in the bunch: EVon. I decided I wanted him that night. Never would I have imagined that split-second decision would affect my life and emotions so much over the next several years.

At the time I figured I’d never see any of these people again, and for at least tonight, he was a pretty good prospect.

So I sidled up to my girlfriend and met EVon. He told me he was 27 (a lie—I learned the next week he was really 33) and a nightclub promoter. Of course I didn’t understand what a promoter was, and as EVon was trying to explain it to me O.J. seized me. He forced me into the backseat of a cab next to him. My girlfriend luckily got to ride up front while I pressed myself into the door as much as possible to avoid O.J.’s nasty presence. He was quick to inquire if I did blow. I was totally shocked by this and shook my head.

We rejoined EVon downtown in front of Pangea. The line was long and bulging at the velvet ropes. But we cut it and walked right in. I was impressed. (Our friends followed us there later from the Hudson but couldn’t get in, which I thought made me totally cool since I orchestrated entry for myself and my girlfriend.)

I wound up dancing and making out with EVon. He asked for my number. I gave it to him. He called me the next day and invited me out to dinner. I, fearful of his 27-ness, declined. The next week I went to a party with him and made out with him again. He started inviting me to parties he promoted and a relationship evolved of me going to his parties and making out with him. I even went home with him twice. But I didn’t have sex with him.

Then I found a boyfriend. We had a two and a half year relationship. I didn’t realize until it ended (a whole other entry you’ll read in due time) how abusive and manipulative Boyfriend was. But a couple weeks into our relationship, make-outs with EVon stopped. The flirting and dancing never did though, and as I grew more and more unhappy, my attraction to EVon increased.

I was still with Boyfriend in March when EVon and I reignited. I had gone with Gay J, my gay boyfriend, to Guest House one Saturday. I was excited to see EVon especially because Boyfriend had dropped out of the outing last minute. EVon and I started dancing up on each other as usual. Then somehow we wound up against a wall dancing up on each other. Things got, well, heated. Really heated. I found myself with my lips a centimeter away from a man I’d liked for 2.5 years and there was just no holding back anymore. So we kissed.

Two or three weeks later we had sex. Finally. And it sucked. Like, really sucked (his fault). I guess there’s no way to live up to three years of built-up sexual tension. Shortly after the Most Disappointing Sex Ever I broke up with Boyfriend.

I figured this would be good for my relationship (whatever it was) with EVon. But he didn’t contact me after the MDSE. We played The Game when we would bump into each other out at clubs. I wanted him when he didn’t want me and he wanted me when I didn’t want him. Eventually it ended with a text message (my fault).

I had heard that EVon told another man who wanted to take me on a date that we used to date. Eh-hem—we never dated. We made out and flirted like crazy, but we never went on an actual date.

I became more and more frustrated with EVon’s growing lack of attention toward me. He’s the only guy I’ve ever really liked who I’ve been unable to keep at my every beck and call. And as this fact came into sharper focus, it drove me crazy. EVon started dancing and flirting with other girls right in front of my face. I finally decided to confront him about his dating comment at Pink Elephant so I pulled him off to the side on his way out. He curtly denied that he had said we used to date and walked away from me. I experienced a well of emotions I knew not how to express to EVon. Here I had been tortured for nearly three years and just wanted it to go away. But I realized it wasn’t going to go away the way I wanted it to. I would have to let it go—EVon wasn’t likely to come after me again.

So I knew I had to end it. I sent him this ambiguous text message:

“Look, don’t front. I think you’re full of shit. I just wanted to fuck around and see what would’ve happened. Especially since I’m single now…”

And I never heard from EVon after that. Maybe he thinks I’m crazy. Maybe he thinks he can do better (which he can’t) or that I (21) am too young for him (36). Regardless all I had to do after the Cease Contact was delete him from my mental “attracted to” list. And I still don’t know how I’m supposed to do that.