I met Sam for the first time at an après ski (a post-ski-beverage-drinking-gathering) in a bar with some friends. He lived in a bigger city nearby and was up to ski for the weekend. A couple of other people were there that I didn't know, including a pretty blond girl that wasn't sitting near him. He was handsome, with dark hair and a beard (recall that beards are a plus for mountain mamas), and my interest immediately perked. Shortly after being introduced, I noticed him mutter something to my friend’s boyfriend while looking at me, who responded with an emphatic nod and a big grin. I could tell the curiosity was mutual. I asked Amy about him, but she murmured to me that he had baggage (something I was trying to avoid after the Kurt debacle), and that he was sort of “with” the pretty blond. I shrugged and let it go. Baggage was not what I was looking for.
A couple months later, I heard through the grapevine that the blond was history, and that he was up visiting for another weekend. Amy again got to work plotting, and I met up with them at the brewery. Sam was easy to talk to and made me laugh. He was a mechanic for his own business. Automatic hotness points awarded to a man that can do cool things with his hands and make money with off it. We hit it off.
The next day we all went skiing, and Sam and I engaged in some ski-flirting. If you’ve never participated in this activity, it involves tapping the other person in the butt with your pole as you ski by, spraying them with snow as you pull off a sharp hockey stop right beside them and weaving your turns around the other person during a run. Yes, I know just what you’re thinking: it’s all very sexy. We also made sure to end up next to each other frequently on the lift, where we talked easily about simple things – our jobs, skiing, where we grew up, etc. I found him good-natured, fun and comfortable. He asked me to meet him and his friends to ski the next weekend, and I agreed.
This was the same weekend Mason and I had our x-country ski date, and I was pretty entertained to have two ski dates in one weekend. Such is the life of a ski bunny. Again, I had a good time and got along well with his friends, although none of us seemed to click on any deeper level... including Sam and I. But he was a nice, easy-going guy, and I figured it could be fun to have someone to visit in the “big city”.
I met up with him and his buddies the following weekend at a vacation condo that one of their uncles owned. We all stayed up into the late hours, drinking and playing poker – not a regular pastime for me, but a good time. When everyone went to bed, we got to kissing and things turned a little physical. But I cut him off before it got too serious, thinking of Mason and how things were going well with him. He handled it good-naturedly, and we spend the rest of the night cuddling.
The next day we all went out skiing again, and I enjoyed his company as always. However, Sam didn’t give me butterflies, he didn't linger in my thoughts when he wasn't around, and I never felt very engrossed in our conversations. When he parted that day, he let me know he would be hosting visitors for the next few weekends, but mentioned how it would be fun if I came up to the city sometime. I agreed, and we parted with a hug and a kiss, both of us most likely knowing that this was it... at least for now. Ours was the perfect mismatch: fun while it lasted and no hurt feelings when it ended. If only they were all so simple.
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