I met Murray back in November when I was producing a web series for him. Although he was essentially my boss, I had been working on the series for about a month before actually meeting him. We had a pretty casual exchange, mostly because when I met him I did not believe he was my boss! He immediately took a liking to me, which I enjoyed because it made my job a bit easier.
I was also working with Jim on this webseries (yes, Jim!) and he would tell me every now and then that Murray “loved” me. Given that Murray is about 50 years old, bald, and could be my father, I assumed that his fondness for me remained innocent. WRONG. A few weeks ago, Murray invited Jim and I to be his guests at a benefit that he was hosting for a prominent NYC-based charity. When I told him I would be honored to come as one of his guests, he responded with “I just invited Jim so that I had an excuse to get you there.” Uh-oh.
But luckily Jim was a great date for the evening, and an even better buffer between Murray and myself. Towards the end of the cocktail hour, Murray found his way over to me. I thanked him again for inviting me to the event, and he told me how happy he was to see me. He told me that I make him smile, and that he really did invite Jim just as a ploy to get me there. I cracked a joke, hoping to alleviate the immense pressure and building awkwardness that I was feeling. And right before I walked away, Murray made a point of telling me how beautiful I was looking that evening.
During the benefit, which was a sit-down dinner, Murray came over to Jim and I at our table to chat with me. He told me a little anecdote about the worst date he ever went on. And afterwards he told me he’d love to take me to the theatre with him. After the benefit, Jim and I headed over to the hotel bar with a few other people who had been at our table. Murray, thinking that I had left, sent me the following email:
Subject: In all seriousness…
…I was so glad you could make it. For some reason, or many reasons, you make me smile. Which is nice. Psyched to hang with you. Whenever it is, we’ll call it a birthday celebration.
DYING. I still hadn’t seen this email when Murray found me at the bar. He continued to flirt with me shamelessly, while I did my best to keep my distance, and finally at the end of the night he invited me to come along to an after party with him. I politely declined, and went home to talk to my boyfriend on the phone.
The next day Jim told me he could tell how uncomfortable I had been about the whole thing and mentioned to Murray at the after party that I had a boyfriend. Murray’s left me alone since. Thank god for Jim!
