Ben and I were driving back from dinner this evening and he said something about a Ford Focus as it sped past us.  Whenever someone mentions “Ford Focus,” I am immediately catapulted back to January 1995, and tonight was no exception.  I had just purchased a brand new, bright red Mitsubishi Eclipse (that turned out to be one of the best cars I’d ever owned) and the memory of a very hot man having a near life-threatening asthma attack in the back seat of that car as a friend and I drove from Oakland to Walnut Creek will be forever etched in my consciousness.

Red and I, January 1995

Several months earlier, while trawling AOL (go ahead and snicker—it was 1995 for chrissake), I met a guy online named Curt. He had no photos, but described himself as “mid 40s, blond hair, blue eyes,” and had a very sexy southern twang to his voice. He sounded damn hot.

When we finally met in person after weeks of chatting online and over the phone, it was obvious that with no photo to go from, my imagination had run wild and had constructed an image that no one short of a Nordic god could fulfill.  There was no denying that I liked the guy after our numerous conversations, but I think my imagination had been so busy concocting a hot, hairy 40′s daddy that when faced with reality I couldn’t help but be a little…disappointed.

Fortunately the lack of heat was apparently mutual, but we had enough in common that a friendship blossomed.

Anyhow, since the Mitsubishi dealership I bought the car from was in Concord and Curt lived in Walnut Creek, it was natural that he’d be the first friend to see the new purchase as I drove back to The City.  Unfortunately when I stopped by on my way home that evening, he was on his way out the door to meet friends for dinner.

About a week later, I was in the East Bay having lunch with my boss and his wife, and afterward decided to stop by Curt’s again.

Curt didn’t know that I was planning on dropping by (practically no one had cell phones back then so I couldn’t call), and he had arranged to hook up with a guy he’d met online. Not having exchanged photos beforehand, Curt wanted me to stick around in case the guy was—in his words—”a troll.”  As it turned out, Manny was anything but a troll.  In fact, he was one of the best looking guys I’d ever encountered from that silly electronic service: late 20′s, buff (but not built), fuzzy, and had a killer smile.

I didn’t really know what his story was because he kept dropping sexually-charged comments at Curt, but privately confided to me that he “wasn’t what he had been expecting.”  I told him that when Curt and I had met initially he hadn’t been what I had been expecting either, but that obviously hadn’t stood in the way of our friendship. “Give him a chance,” was my advice.

At one point, when Manny had excused himself to use the bathroom I asked Curt if he wanted me to leave so they could bump uglies.  “Nah,” he said, “let’s all just hang out.” (I guess Manny hadn’t been what Curt was hoping for either.) We watched a couple movies (on laserdisk!) while the afternoon slipped into evening.  Around 8:30 pm, the three of us headed over to Zachary’s Pizza in Oakland.  Manny had neglected to tell any of us about his sensitivity to formaldehyde (admittedly not something that would come up in normal conversation), a compound I didn’t realize was used extensively in new cars. Since we were in my car, on the way back from dinner, it brought on a terrible asthmatic attack.  We stopped at a Safeway so he could buy an over-the-counter inhaler, but by that point the evening had been ruined.

So how does a Ford Focus figure into all this?  Manny drove a Focus.

And yes, in case you’re wondering, Manny and I did eventually hook up, but I think it was out of curiosity more than anything else.  And since he was one of those “I’ll lay here and you can do all the work” guys who didn’t even kiss, I saw no reason to pursue things further…