The Israeli Bartender

I realize that I've been talking all this time about my past and not about my present. While I am still dealing with the emotional aftermath of heartbreak I have begun to move on. I'll admit for the first couple months post breakup I was a basket case. I literally watched Sex and The City from Season one to the movie about ten times.
Going thru the holiday season was especially hard, but surprisingly easier to cope with then I had expected. This perhaps might have something to do with the endless supply of champagne at holiday parties. While food is a comfort to many in times of pain, I prefer to shop. I find shopping to be the most relaxing experience and of course the fabulous new clothes help distract you from thinking about the evil wrath of a man you once knew.
I've never been a fan of Valentine's Day. It's so fake and beyond cheesy. You shouldn't feel forced to buy your partner something just because society pushes this "holiday" on you. When in fact it's merely a day for florists, Hallmark and chocolatiers to make more money.
I once read a card that said, "What do you get the person you love when everyday is Valentine's Day?" How sweet yet completely phony, unless of course you are still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship. If it were true then Oprah and Dr.Phil would be out of jobs don't you think. Their whole careers are primarily based on the fact that marriages aren’t a picnic and everyday are not Valentine's Day.
So now, ten months post breakup, I am in a place where for the most part I have moved on. I go about my daily routines and no longer constantly think about him, but still there are moments, almost everyday when I randomly think of him. Sometimes it's because I hear a song on the radio or I see a car that looks like his and even though I know it can't be his I still double check the license plate.
In recent months, I have been forcing myself to play dress up and go out and socialize. On a whim one night last month I decided to go out alone and randomly found myself sitting at the bar of a trendy restaurant on Collins. Now, I should point out that when I go out I dress age appropriate. Meaning, I know better then to wear silver stripper heels even if they are Jimmy Choo. I'm obsessed with clothing, yet regardless of what is trendy this season, I prefer classic pieces that I then dress up with vintage jewelry. So on this particular night, I had spent about an hour trying on nearly everything in my closet. I finally decide on this emerald green strapless mini dress and nude colored 4" peep toe Dior heels and as I double check myself in the mirror I decide I hate this outfit too. So back to the closet I go. At this point I'm about to just put my pajamas back on and order Chinese. Instead I throw on an outfit that I typically wear when I'm flying which is definitely not frumpy yet not a "look at me" outfit either. Comfy high wasted black leggings, a loose fitted black T-shirt, black ankle high combat boots, bright red lipstick and a pair of gold hoop earrings that are covered in white pearls. The last thing on my mind was meeting a man. Of course that usually is when you do meet someone.
I wasn't too hungry so I decide to sit at the bar. It's a Monday night so the bar isn't too crowded and I strike up a conversation with the bartender. He had slightly spiked short brown hair, muscular build, super nice and totally out of my league on any other night. I don't know what prompted me to be so bold, perhaps a few too many cocktails. But, just as I'm about to leave I decide to give the bartender my phone number. We have since been on a few dates. I wonder if he is my Yankee and if so I sure hope it doesn't end with me crying and eating cold fries in the diner at two am.
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SP