I Heart New York

My vacation to New York State was more exciting than I would have dreamed possible. Sure, Acadia last summer introduced me to Kirk Lurvis, park ranger extraordinaire. But this year, I got more than an imaginary love interest one evening at sunset at Heart Lake.

My campsite was situated in the heart of the Adirondacks at the unlikely named Heart Lake, a small (yes) heart shaped body of water surrounded by trees and campsites.

I sat alone in a chair on a dock by the water. I read my book as the sun set.

"Excuse me, would you like to share this bottle of wine with me? I picked it up at a local vineyard today," a deep male voice intoned beside me. I turned my head to find the unlikely visage of a man who looked like a blond Charlie Sheen. 30-something buff hiker, sitting next to me with two wine glasses in his hand and a smirk on his face.

Of course I said yes. He was a college professor from an unnamed university in upstate NY. He had studied in Boston for one of his masters degrees (emphasis on "one of") and corrected me when I referred myself as a Bostonian. "If you grew up on the South Shore, you aren't from Boston." I stood corrected as the conversation went from favorite novels to guessing what creature each of us could make up out of the cloud formations above us. The wine buzz took over as the sun set and he gingerly hopped into the lake from the small dock, stripping off his shirt like an ersatz Matthew McConaughey.

"Come for a swim with me," he said as he gamely pulled my form towards his into the water. At first I protested. I was fully dressed! It was chilly! But alcohol makes one lose inhibitions so in I went into the shockingly cold water. He pulled me deeper into the water as the coldness instantly zapped my wine buzz. Suddenly the Harlequin romance in my head was replaced with a thought more sinister. "I am in the water in the dark with a stranger," my mind reasoned with my wild side. "He is pulling you deeper in the water. Get back to shore NOW."

I paddled back towards the dock and jumped back up into my chair. Fabio followed. "That was the most humiliating romantic moment I've ever been in," he complained. "That could've been so sexy. Haven't you ever hooked up with a guy before?" He put his tee shirt back on.

"I don't find hypothermia sexy, and my lips are turning purple," I stayed in my chair, not sure if I was sorrier for myself or for embarrassing the hunk who tried to pick me up.

We each went home to separate campsites, where my kid awaited me. Parenthood can be a bitch at times, but most likely this was a good thing. The next morning, I found his forlorn flip flop and an empty plastic wine glass by the dock. I took them back to him at his campsite. He sheepishly accepted the items saying he didn't remember where he had left them.

"You don't remember last night, do you?" I asked. "Sure I do," he lied. "I have to get back to my campsite and my kid. Have a great weekend," I said as I walked back, wondering what I missed out on. Near miss or good call? We'll never know.