The Chief Who Loves Me

Dear Swing Enthusiast,

A number of factors led to the failure of my swing life last night. Apple Inc. took Apple Guy, along with all of his adorable nerd counterparts and their iPhones, on a ski weekend up north. Talk about a perk! Don’t get me wrong. My happiness doesn’t hinge on this one man’s presence. In fact, I was so stressed out and despondent last night, it’s probably better that he wasn’t around to see it. I think it was just the cherry on top of what has been a really difficult week thus far. I didn’t look good. I didn’t feel good. Bottom line: Last night sucked.

As I struggled through my classes, which require a certain amount of peppiness I was less than willing to deliver, nobody but my friend Peggy noticed my lack of enthusiasm. Nobody, that is, except The Chief.

The Chief and I have a complicated relationship. At times, we are almost like father and daughter, while at others we are more like Humbert Humbert and Lolita, but not nearly so graphic or illegal. It all started when I was just a novice, who was too afraid to risk rejection at the practice sessions after class to stick around for them. I would stay for a little while to talk to Peggy, who would occasionally guilt some ridiculously advanced dancer into dragging me around the floor, and then I would leave with my lust for dance unsatisfied. Until The Chief changed all that.

At first, I couldn’t stand him. As a follow to his dance lead, he seemed bossy and patronizing to me, but the more I learned, the more I realized he was genuinely trying to help me get better. He just wanted to dance. He hated it if a teacher rambled on and on about the theory of a particular step. He would say, “If I wanted to take talking lessons, I would have called my mother!” The Chief was a man of action.

We soon became unofficial swing partners. He was witty, charismatic, and there was no funny business because of our 35-year age difference. I know, I know. Boy was I naive! He started offering me a ride home after practice, and eventually, after checking Peggy’s opinion, I accepted. He's a retired Police Chief, after all. If you can’t trust a 60-year-old man with a badge, who the hell can you trust?

I can remember the exact moment I realized I was wrong about The Chief’s intentions. I was in the passenger seat of his car gabbing away delightedly. I was really proud of our friendship. He was my sweet, ol’ man mentor. The Chief made me feel special and I, in turn, made him feel wise. For a girl who grew up without a father, a relationship like ours was priceless. In appreciation of all his rides home, cutting my commute by more than half, I offered him complimentary theater tickets I have access to. He said he would only take me up on my offer if he could take me out for dinner directly following the play. Thing is, I hadn't planned on going with him! Was he suggesting we go on a date!?

After my initial feeling that he was, perhaps, courting me, I decided I must be reading too much into his proposal. Can't a friend treat another friend to a meal? He knows I'm a starving artist. It was probably just a sweet, friendly, decidedly platonic gesture, right?

Wrong! The next week at swing he asked for my phone number in a way that could leave little doubt he had his romantic sights on moi, which is when I broke the news to him. I was in a relationship. You may be asking yourself why I didn't mention my significant other to him before. Well, that's easy: my significant other was a really amazing girl. Yes, I'm gay. I have never been secretive about it. However, there never seemed to be a good time to tell the retired police chief, who might be- dare I say- conservative, about my bi-sexuality. There was no reason to risk our friendship over something that really didn't concern him. Now, I'm thinking maybe I should have at least dropped a hint!

The week after he made his move, swing was a little tense. The Chief had been pretty shocked when I said I was seeing someone, but when I told him I was with a woman, he couldn't help but grin. News flash: Guys love the thought of girl on girl action. The Chief was just tickled I was with a girl. I, on the other hand, found that night of swing painfully awkward. I didn't know how to act. Do I joke around with him? Do I push him away? Do I let him drive me home!?

As if in a dream, I found myself leaving the practice session early and sitting down to eat with The Chief at a burger joint across the street. I felt like I was floating above my body, watching myself follow The Chief's lead. The logic behind our meal was that friends were allowed to eat together. Before long, we established that friends were "allowed" to talk on the phone, text, email, eat, dance and even spend major holidays together.

Yes, you read that right; I spent New Year's Eve with The Chief.

In order to master the art of swing, you need to relinquish control to your dance partner. You literally need to follow his lead. Maybe I took this theory too far, but, then again, maybe not. The Chief and I are friends. He looks really good for his age, but we all have our limits, ladies. He never lets me forget he's attracted to me, but I never let him forget, even now that I'm single, that I have nothing to offer him but friendship. Maybe we're kidding ourselves, or maybe we're being really adult. Just because we don't have a romantic future, doesn't mean there isn't value to being in each other's lives.

On New Year's Eve, as the clock struck midnight 2008 for the very first time, one thing is certain. He wanted to kiss me. If I did kiss him, it would be the most nervous, stiff, guilt-ridden kiss of my life. If I didn't, I would probably always wonder about it.

Things have cooled down significantly between The Chief and I since New Year's Eve. For starters, he doesn't drive me home anymore. As we all know, I have a long-standing walking date with Apple Guy after class. Also, The Chief is finally taking me up on my theater tickets, but he's taking both tickets for himself and actually bringing a date. Yet, as swing class was wiping the floor with me last night, it was nice to know I could count on my Chief to give me a pick me up, make me feel appreciated, offer me a ride, and see me safely to the door.

So, did I kiss The Chief on New Year's Eve?

I'll never tell. But you have to ask yourself... How could I not?

Love,

Sara