Last Supper

Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, give a man pho and expect to never hear from him again at a fraction of the cost.

Enter New Character: CashlessEnter New Location: Than Brothers

Here is my small guilty confession for the week: I have been religiously using the free dating site OK Cupid (which, by no coincidence rhymes with 'this is stupid'). Regardless. I hadn't been on a date in a while. As has probably been noted, or is due to be noted by now. I wanted to remedy this situation- so, without seeking out dates (due to the fact that they find me); I agreed to go on several of them. The only problem was, they all turned out to be chicken shit, and for once I found myself on the side of the coin that actually wanted to meet up, blindly, with strangers.

And so, with this said, when a new stranger contacted me on OK Cupid about wanting to meet up for dinner spur of the moment tonight, and me, being just short of starved for attention (and food for that matter), warmly agreed. Surprisingly, this gave me more than enough confidence to actually go through with it. And after an initial unreciprocated phone call and text message, he finally came through and we agreed to meet for pho. Fine by me, I love pho- and it is cheep. Enter character Cashless.

Here is a little bio of this "new character"... the run down, so to speak: 27 year-old male, lives in the Greenlake area, job-free, going back to school for social work. Oh, and I almost forgot the most important part- full beard. Good, hat being said we can move on.

We meet for pho- he wanted to go to Pho 900, which I had never been to and he couldn't find, so we ended up going to Than Brothers, which I prefer anyway. Turns out, as many who are sans a job, that he is carrying no cash on him. Hmmm. Convenient, considering we are in a cash only eatery. He told me that he was living off of some sort of workman's comp or something, but nonetheless. I said that it was OK(cupid), and he could consider it a late birthday gift (seeing as his birth was 27 years previous to yesterday), after all, it was $5 ish pho. Right? Well, plus the extra noodles he got in his, so I guess that would put it on the higher end of a $5 tab. But who cares right? I mean, company is company...

No. No it is not. Not when company, promptly, upon finishing the complimentary cream puff, announces that he "oh shot" has to "run to pay rent" to avoid a "late fee". Now maybe, just maybe I buy this- but if I am to buy this, the least he could do is buy his own goddamn meal.

So I walked him to his bus stop and then found my way back to Bauhaus, which, in reality, is where I wanted to be any way. Oh, and as I was leaving, he gave me one of those really awkward hugs... which reminded me of the one date stand- an awkward, half-side, half hug really.

And speaking of One Date Stand, I found him as well on OK Cupid. The thing about OK cupid is that you can rate each other's looks and personality (or what you can gather by via the accuracy of an online venue). You can choose a 1-5 star rating on each category, and if you are extremely high or extremely low and the person you are rating feels the same way, and then you get a notification. Turns out we both voted each other in the 4-5 star category for looks, but I did not manage to measure up on his "personality" match. Shoot, and all these years I have been banking on my personality to get me through the hellish dating scene, when it turns out I should have been banking on my looks. Too late now...

Oh, and a side note, Friend-of-a-friend finally spilled the beans to Wifey about his girlfriend. Apparently she is in Turkey now and they will be living apart for 7 years. He said he tried out a long distance relationship before but it was a failure. This makes me a little more hopeful (especially when Wifey said he didn't sound too terribly thrilled when speaking of her), but still, I vow that I will never, ever, make a move on someone that I know is in some sort of relationship.

… But upon further reflection, I essentially did (with great success) follow through to find myself making out with a boy who had a girlfriend in my first year of college. If memory serves me right, however, it was not intentional.

The Cat Came Back

Look what the cat dragged in... himself.

When I was little, I would sometimes watch, I believe it was, the Disney Channel. Or maybe it was Nickelodeon.  Doesn't matter.  There used to be a little cartoon short, it was about this old man who had a cat and would try various things to get rid of it (like tying it to a hot air balloon), but the cat would always always come back.  The theme song went like this: The cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, they thought he was a gonner, but the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back he just couldn't stay away.  Sometimes my love life feels like that. (oh, and they probably took that short off TV cause it was kind of sending abusive messages about how to get rid of a cat).

It has been a little while, of which I will be the first to confess the lack of "action" I have had this past week and a half.  All of the sudden, it seemed like all of the guys in my life were in some sort of transcendental bottleneck- all stuck in a position unobtainable to me.  And so it went.  And I was A-OK with this, because I figured, if I was unable to be alone with myself, then it would go to reason that I was in no shape to be in a relationship.  It was just to not be so.  

And so it went.  I was, well, not happy but satisfied with where I was, laughing at all of the guys stuck in the aforesaid "bottleneck" because I made the realization that most of them were just as trapped, at least emotionally, as I was.  To further illustrate this- My Ex keeps calling me.  As much as I enjoy his friendship and company, his presence can often hinder me from, well, what ever guy scenario should present itself.  And because I have been hanging out with friend-of-a-friend almost every other day now, that seems like it could be a problem.  But I thought- screw it!  I can hang out with Ex just as a friend.  After all, he is, since I have been in Seattle, the person I have most consistently and for the longest period of time been friends with now.  

I told him that I would go to The Shining with him and I also offered him to tag along with me to Bloc Party.  Yippee!  That should be enough for him, right?  Wrong.  At 3:00 in the afternoon he started calling me to hang out with him.  I respectfully declined, but reassured him that we would see the movie and get to hang out then.  As if this wasn't enough, he called me for dinner as well- to which I reminded him that I was busy (bold face lie) and I would see him at the movie.

I ended up going to Bauhaus with Wifey after our romantic dinner for two*cough cough* (oh, at which one of the servers gave us a complimentary dish courtesy another server).  And wouldn't you know who just happened to show up at Bauhaus whilst we were enjoying some sort of solemnity?  Ex.  For the simple reason, admitted on his part, that we were there and he didn't want to hang out with his other friend.  

*Side note: I had dinner with him the other day, to which he also readily admitted to blowing off his current girlfriend, who wanted to have dinner with him, so he could have dinner with me* 

While we three were at Bauhaus I receive a text message.  I found this rather perplexing considering the only people who ever really text me are, well, sitting at my table.  And wouldn't you know it, Friend-of-a-friend asking me what we are up to.  This is monumental.  He has never really text messaged me first.  I respond with our plans- Bauhaus now, drinks in a minute, then the movie.  He tells me he is with a friend and we should join them.  Fuck.  Part of what makes my dating life miserable, but sort of successful now (and I have accomplished this through mistakes in the past), is the fact that I avoid having two guys from my sorted dating affairs in the same place at the same time.  But I just could not pass up an opportunity to see Friend-of-a-friend though an hour or so earlier, I told Wifey that I was getting over him.  Ooooops.

We met up.  It was awkward because Ex was getting uncomofrtable and a bit hostile towards Friend-of-a-friend at times.  We ended up not going to the movie because Wifey was too afraid to go, I didn't want to be left alone with the Ex, and I didn't want to leave Friend-of-a-friend.  So we all stayed and drank- a very small amount, mind you.  

Wifey's car was back down at Bauhaus, which was a few blocks from where we were at.  We told FOAF we would give him a ride to his place, and wouldn't you know who just had to tag along?  Ex.  Godah Dam Mitt.  It didn't even make sense for him to get a ride from us because he had to walk further to Wifey's car then he would to walk to his own- which was in the opposite direction of where we were parked anyway.  And then, to make matters worse, he kept trying to get me to take a ride home with him.  I refused numerous times.  

And what happened next is probably the only real thing worth reading in this post.  

To start out, one of my major complaints with my "love"(ha) life is the complete paradox of it all: I can't seem to find anyone, and yet I can't seem to get rid of the ones that I have dated.  Which makes me think, how did I get those guys in the first place?  Why can't I get more?  Why does it seem as though I don't have any?  And then why wont they leave me be after we are through?  I mean, lets face it, even Speed Dumper, who "broke-up" with me via text message after we had only known each other for an hour or so took it back and wanted to "get back together and work things out".  I don't understand.  

This being stated- Wifey and I got back to my apartment.  I receive a text message from Ex.  He is talking about how he is glad we can still hang out, blah blah fucking blah.  I get bored with his text so I check my myspace in the mean time.  One new message.  Yippee!  Wait!  Hold on!  It is from the 19 year old!!!!  The message is simple and reads like this:

Subject: I...

Body: I miss you.

Ha!  How does this happen?  Why do they come back to me?  And again, how is it that I can't manage to get guys, but I can't get rid of them either?  Beats the fuck out of me.  I am left scratching my head on this one.  

One final note- 31 deleted me from his friends list on facebook.  I don't know why I took offense to this.  I was the one who ditched him, and yet I am slightly offended that he deleted me as a friend.  19 year old did this too, and look what happened- a month later he decides he misses me.  I have no clue what, or if, I am going to say in response to that.

Snippets

Not a lot has happened this past week, in the dating life of... well... myself.  So here are a few snippets.  

Act 1: Wednesday 

Enter New Character: Working Class

If you give a mouse a cookie he will ask for a glass of milk.  BUT... If you give a boy a car, he wont even ask for your phone number.

There are always a those few constants in your life- those that you have known for a while but have yet to make a move on, for what ever reason.  It is bad enough if they are past even the mere  point of no return, the dreaded "friend" trump card (as in, it becomes awkward if they are to the point where you might as well be an androgynous Barbie doll, with out the un-proportionately shapely figure- or worse yet a "sister figure").  But- it is even more disastrous if you have not reached that (being the friend) point for several months now and still both parties have yet to make any sort of move.  That is saying there is some sort of interest, but something (oh, say, a kid or a girlfriend/wife) slowing the progression towards a dating sort of get to know you.  That is the preceding scenario.

There is this gentlemen who I have known for about 5 months now on a very sporadic, causal basis.  We talk, but never hang out.  In order to ease some sort of boarder line friend potential tension, I decided to give this one particular individual a car.  Yes, a car.  No, not just any car- a cop car.  Here is the scoop- I was talking to, oh, lets call him for namesake, Working Class the previous week about cops and how much we both respected them, until they decided to pull out unwarranted attitude problems with us, to which our opinions of Washington's finest quickly evaporate.  We shared stories about such occasions in our lives.  In the past couple months or so that I have known Working Class, we have shared many tales and many times there have been flirtatious vibes and often times blatant comments to make me think that Working Class had some interest in me.  All of these realizations started to develop while we were talking about the po-lice and such.  

It was this particular conversation that looped my memory back to the toy cop car that I had laying on the floor of my Chevy Caviler.  Clever as I am, I decide that I am going to give this car to Working Class and, considering I see him on no regular basis, I was going to keep the toy in my purse and give it to him the next time our paths crossed.  It wasn't until about a week later that this event actually transpired.  And, much like I ran over a bajillion times in my head, I absent-mindedly remembered that I had "something for him".  I told him he could keep it on his desk at work or something- and then I took off to an "appointment", which was completely legitimate because I actually did have a hair appointment.  I was going to write about this, but I had hoped something would have came of it by now.  Unfortunately, it has (again) almost been a week, and I have yet to run into him again.  

Act 2: Friday

The corner can drop you off at the end of the world

I went out with just Wifey and Friend-of-a-Friend this day.  I think my feelings for Friend-of-a-Friend are waning- and maybe getting a little too comfortable, as I mentioned at the very start of this particular blog (and, of course, right as I type this sentence, who else should walk into the lovely Bauhaus then him.  Fuck my life).  I tried some flirty tactics on our evening out.  Example: we made a bet that I couldn't spit out an open window and hit a car.  I claim I did, he claims I didn't (but there is no way that one could miss that unless they were not looking...)  I guess there might just happen to be a few factors would lead him to not pay attention to where I was actually spitting: 1.) my proclamation that "I'm a spitter" and 2.) In order to spit, I was practically standing over him while he was seated.  Actually, there was no "practically" about it. '

I also ran into a Coffee Shop Boy that I have, if nothing else, a friend crush on.  We never really talked before, just exchanged either nervous glances or pleasant small, no... minuscule, talk.  So it was on this particular day, and this particular moment when he was outside of Cha Cha's that I loudly addressed him in this exact manner "Hey!  It's Coffee Shop Boy**, Hey Coffee Shop Boy**!" and then didn't even stop to talk beyond that point of order. 

Anyway, I decided that I was going to go home- instead of staying the night at my Wifey's- when our night ceased.  I had walked with Friend-of-a-Friend, as he two was on his way home (which happened to be in the same, yet general, direction as my car)- I was a little surprised, admittedly, when he didn't walk me to my car all the way, per se.  I think, if he really was interested in me, then he probably would have walked me the last block to my car- instead, we parted ways and that was that. 

Act 3: Saturday

It doesn't hurt to flirt... and I am sure that is what countless females have thought before being raped or murdered.  

I worked at a festival today.  I sat at a booth and promoted the non-profit I work for.  It was quite enjoyable.  At one booth, across the way from us, there was a gentlemen who kept looking over my way.  He wasn't my type and was probably a bit older than I would have preferred, but I returned the smiles.  It never hurts, right?  At any rate, he left his booth to come over and talk at least four times.  Other than that, he never really left his booth.  He was nice enough for me not to brush him off, but again, nothing that I was going to actively per sue at that moment.

Wifey and I were going to go out after I got back, but I realized sometime between the night before and that exact moment my license had been lost.  We looked and called and snooped between the lines, but to no avail.  I even thought I had a back-up at one point in time, but that fell through thanks to shotty Public Safety officers at Seattle University.

We went to Wall-E instead.  It was a great movie, but I cried a little when I realized that I would never find someone as good and as genuine as that robot, Wall-E.  And, to top the ice-cream cake with a cherry- effing animated robots can fall in love, and I- a non-fictitious character in my own life's play, can not do such a thing!  Preposterous!

Act 4: Sunday

Gone but not forgotten.

I spent today out of the Seattle area to visit my mother.  In a remote way, nothing happened and I should have nothing to talk about if I was not in the city and no where near datable men- except the Scooter boy was apparently back at Bauhaus, striking me with his extended cuteness even as far away as I was.  I was very jealous that I was not there.  I asked Wifey to tell him hi for me, but she didn't do it.  She said one of our other friends would do it for me, but he didn't either.  I think they either chickened out or were too wrapped up in their own games.  I would gladly do my own beckoning, should I have been there... but I wasn't, so I tried a feeble attempt to make a move from 140 miles away.  And though I enjoyed visiting my madre, it would have been nice to see Scooter Boy again.  I must be more vigilant now that I know he is there frequently, and not just one fluke time.  

Escape Artist

They're as thick as thieves, these two...

Set Change/New Location: The Garage; Anna Purna'

s; Red Robin

Last night was my date with the 31 year old.  I really didn't want to go all that much.  Slowly I have started to make realizations about what I want, why I am

 looking, and why I can't find what I am after.  The one thing dating has given me the courage to do, is not to settle.  However, this still conflicts with my need to be nice- give everyone a shot- be everyone's friend.  And it is exactly this factor that I struggled with last night. 

The day started late.  Wifey and I decided to go down to Red Robin on the pier, which, I assure, is by no coincidence where the three friends (friend-of-a-friend and the other two gentlemen that we drank with) work.  After all, I did tell the two boys the night before that I would come in that day and visit them.  I... I am good to my word!  Two of them were working there, including F-o-a-f.  On accident, we were given the kids menu.  It worked in our favor though when we decided to color pictures for the boys to put up in their apartment.  And though they were working, they made quite a bit of conversation with us.

After our Red Robin tryst, we went to Bauhaus to kill the time we had before my date.

The date itself started at Anna Purna's- an Indian Food restaurant on Broadway.  I thought, if nothing else, this is a sweet gesture on his behalf, because on our first date I had mentioned that I would like to go to India due to the vegetarian options that would be provided.  The food was flavorful, but the conversation was bland.  

We went to the Garage afterward to play pool.  I said that, since he bought dinner, I could spring for drinks.  Mind you, I decided to drink not but a few hours after I made the proclamation to never drink again.  But I needed to.  There was just no attraction to this guy- he was too old for me- and for some reason I started to get creeped out a little.  At one point in time (I think it was when he was making so many sexual innuendos with pool; basically anything involving balls, sticks and holes.  So cliche) I said under my breath "oh god, I need to drink this faster".  

After two games I excused myself to the bathroom (primarily because I had to pee, but wanted to finish my drink before I did) and called my Wifey.  I told her to come and save me.  She asked if I was in the bathroom and my response was "fuck yes I'm in the bathroom.  Duh!"  Ah, Wifey to the rescue!  It is like we are married.  I told her not to reveal just yet what her plan of attack was because I didn't want it to seem premeditated, and if I knew, I might over think it and ruin the believability of it.  

She came in.  Was "surprised" to see me there.  He asked if this was my wifey (ok, now the only reason he would know this is if he has been heavily facebook stalking me... which, I forgot to mention, at dinner he relayed back to me my past three or four facebook status updates by dropping them at various points in our conversation....)  She said that she was meeting up with some friends there.  I told her she could wait with us until then.  She waited a little while- pretended to be on her phone a lot, just kind of hung out, and then said that one of our Boy Watcher's Club friend's was sick and needed us to take him to the hospital.  She said he kept trying to call me but I wouldn't answer and that his roommates were out of town.  

I tried to make it seem like I wanted to stay.  And at first I was a bit aloof about the whole situation-  oh, it is just so-and-so, he is probably just drinking again.  And things like, "oh, well, why don't I just meet you there" to which Wifey responded with "I can't carry him alone" etc.  So here we were, sort of arguing, and then I started to get emotional.  I was wearing contacts and one of them started to slip, which naturally made my eyes look glazed, but was not on purpose.  Then I said, well should we go or should we stay (mistakenly to the whole room), and 31 year old said (thinking this was in reference to him and I), "I think we should go, it might be an adventure".  Shit!  How was I going to now get out of him coming with us to the hospital?  I just said sharply, "Wifey, we have to go now!  We are his friends, he why are we still waiting,  we got to go get him!".  

I apologized to my date.  He went in for the hug and kissed me on the cheek, but then awkwardly waited for more.  I was not going to be baited in for that, so I turned around, grabbed my purse, and bolted.  We ran to her car, got to my car, tried to covertly pull my computer out of my trunk (just in case 31 year old was on his way by), and headed to Bauhaus where we met up with our "sick" friend.  It was also plotted out that he, today, will write on my wall some sort of praise or thanks for "helping me out".  Blah, Blah, Blah....  And all would have been extra-smooth, if I wouldn't have left my goddamn tab open at the Garage.  Why did I do that?  I knew I only wanted one drink.... fuuuuuuuuuuck.  It was fine, however, because we went back after Bauhaus closed and retrieved it.

After that, Wifey was going to take me back to my car so i could go home when she got a text message from the guy she made out the other night (who are you's friend).  He was telling her about this new mattress he received today.  So, instead of dropping me at my car, we drove around Belltown texting back and forth with him, knowing full well we were leading him on.  There was some sort of retribution in this though, because this was clearly a guy who plays women himself.  And another note, as we were driving through Pioneer Square, wouldn't you know who we saw at a pub down there, picking up a curly-haired brunette?  The Pickup Artist.  So we text messaged him an eerie detail of what he was doing at that moment, and then drove me back to my car.

  

Seeing Double

Even after the room stops spinning, everything still tastes like alcohol.

Enter New Character: Who Are You

Where to start?  I suppose it was before the Tequila but sandwiched somewhere after the Kamikazes.  

This morning, I feel sick.  Just to put that out there.  We went out drinking last night, the Wifey, the Roommate, and some former RA's under the guise (who were we kidding) of a RA reunion.

We went to Linda's.  Everyone at the table ended up getting mixed drinks.  Roomie bought our first round of Kamikazes.  I saw two of the members of The Boy Watchers Club outside.  I went out to talk to them.  They were on their way to Bauhaus, as usual.  

One thing I have figured out about Seattle is that it is hard enough to get a group of friends or people in the same place at the same time.  I mean, we invited quite a few people to come hang out with us last night, but only a handful showed up.  It is because of this inevitable rule that I was so thrown off for the rest of the night's guest list.  

It started when Wifey spotted 666.  Yes, he was back.  Lucky for me, she spotted him just as I was on my way down to get second drinks for Roommate and I.  I sent the roomie down instead- as to avoid a confrontation.  I told her which one he was, and to watch out for him.  As she is standing in line for the bar, wouldn't you know who else shows up?  Goddamn it, it's the pickup artist (who we still call Todd, though that is not his real name).  All I could say was "Wifey, Wifey, Todd is here").  And guess who Todd is standing by?  Roomie, who is standing by 666.  What are the fucking odds?  It was later revealed that The Pickup Artist tried to pick up roomie- to which she responded "he was just so smooth"... yeah.  We know.  That is what he does for a living, I'm sure.  When asked why the Pickup Artist was there, all he could say was "a little birdy told me you guys were here".  Yeah, that fucking birdy was one of the  members of the Boy Watchers Club.  We were all a little perturbed by his presence. 

At any rate, when friend and friend-of-a-friend showed up, we ditched the Pickup Artist and went outside- which was a suggestion on behalf of the boys wehn we revealed that we were not enthused by "Todd".  We realized that before we could leave, someone had to go back to our table and get what we had left there.  Roommate hesitantly went back to retrieve my wifey's sweater (as it was the only thing still there), and imagine her suprise to find that the Pickup Artist had abandoned our tbale to sit with some other people.  It was a good thing that we didn't leave our wallets or purses there.   

It was kind of an awkward conversation between the four of us- as my wifey was not with us, but with a group of six boys who "just moved to Seattle" (alas, don't they all?).  The dialog felt more forced than usual.  I am sure we all thought the same thing.  Friend went and bought all of us a round of tequila shots (which Roommate and I used as a chaser to our second Kamikaze, and third drink (lemon drops) of the night).  Needless to say, it was disgusting.  I almost puked, but resisted the urge.  Wifey came over for a short time.  Then left again (upon my begging her to leave, as she had already taken friend-of-a-friend's seat, which just so happened to be next to me).  Then Roomie had to leave so it was just my friend and friend-of-a-friend holding down the fort.  We found some random junk on the table, one of which was a candy heart glued to some sort of metal object.  Friend-of-a-friend told me I should keep it as a token of the night.  It is still in my purse. 

I must also make a note, that- during the time it was just three of us- I saw 666 again.  He made this mean, extended eye-contact with me.  And then I stood up and proclaimed to the boys "that's him, that's the 666 guy".  Too bad standing, shouting, and pointing drew his attention back to me.  This should also be some indicator of how I was finally feeling the effects of "the drank". 

By the time we left to get the two boys hot dogs, the tequila hit me.  I felt compelled to repetitively announce "So and so, I think you got me drunk"  or "I feel real dizzy".  I took off my shoe to show one of them my tattoo- and then realized I couldn't put my shoe back on.  And it was at that moment understood what it meant to be drunk.  I- as many people do- denied I was drunk and would occasionally spout off big words and say "see, if I can still use that word, I am not drunk".  

After the friend went and retrieved Wifey for me- the two boys left.  And just as I thought "ok, the night is over, I can pee now", Wifey's friends from inside come out.  Apparently, during the time that I was trying to put my shoe back on, Wifey started making out with one of them.  Her and this boy she just kissed came and sat down by me.  He asked me if I would make out with one of the two- or both- of his friends (neither of which were my type- not even my drunk type).  I told him that I wouldn't.  "And besides" I said, "you aren't making out with her".  So he did!  Right there, right next to me.  And then his friend started kissing me.  It was awkward, and I did not appreciate or reciprocate it.  This boys is now called "Who Are You", for obvious reasons. 

I got my shoe on, convinced my Wifey to take me back to her place, saw another friend, and then began the ascent back to her room.  We just so happened to be on the same path home as the three boys Wifey lured from the bar.  She coaxed one of them back across the street to make out with her- at which point I yelled to the boy who tried to kiss me earlier "I am sorry I didn't make out with you more.  I have a boyfriend who has a girlfriend"- which was my reference to friend-of-a-friend- which I might add is not my boyfriend, but yes, has a girlfriend.  

Though we ran into many friends, we safely made it back to her place.  She gave me water, potatoes, and an air mattress to sleep on.  That was a bad idea; as it was, the room was spinning, and the motion caused by fluctuating pressure on the mattress made me even more ill.  This morning, I felt my fair share of what last nights near-triumphs and casual misses brought.  

Repeat Offender

Not everything happens for a reason, somethings just happen for the purpose of messing with your mind or screwing you over.

After dinner (a lovely Veggie BLT/Drank at Honey Hole with the Wifey), we hit Bauhaus early tonight. About 2 hours earlier than usual, in fact. It is weird to go to Bauhaus with out homework or anything exciting to do. I made my usual proclamation for the night: "I am going to find someone tonight", though- as the weeks have been progressing- even I only half-heartedly believe that anymore. And truth be told, I am at the point that I want them to find me, more than I want to go looking.

I played speed scrabble, by myself, while my Wifey did homework. I figure (if nothing else), I am going to leave this summer with a better vocabulary. I also took plenty of time to pine over the fact that I hadn't received a facebook message from Friend-of-a-friend for a couple days now. I think one point in time I even slammed my head, in angst, against the coffee table. And when I finally did receive a message (which occurred sometime during the speed scrabble round I actually played with one of the BWC- not alone) I inappropriately groped my computer out of utter joy. I didn't care that I was making a complete fool of myself- all I cared about was that Friend-of-a-friend was finally getting back to me with polite conversation. That in itself would have made my night.

The Pickup Artist also came back tonight. I don't remember even saying but maybe two words to him. He, of course, sat down with us- but at that particular moment I got a text message from one of the BWC who was sitting outside (the member who put the sticky note on the bicycle, which you may or may not recall by now). While I was reveling in my own self pity ("why does he have to have a girlfriend"), she was engrossed in some of her own ("why does he have to have a girlfriend"). And so it went.

I talked to another friend inside, who shall be known as The Pirate (due to the fact that she wore an eye patch for two days to get out of some work, though she had no need for it in actuality) - loudly- about why it was unfair that the good ones were taken. We looked at friend-of-a-friend's facebook profile, looked at his girlfriend, and tried to make comparisons (as girls often do) between her and me. Completely unjustified (at least I am willing to admit it), we determined that I was the better catch. I mean, after all, we know me- not her. I am sure she is awesome, if she has acquired friend-of-a-friend as a boyfriend, though. Ah, cera.

*I must also mention, before I continue with this story, that the cute Neuroscience guy with the dog was back again today. When he walked in, he smiled at me. I waved at him, smiled back, and said "Hey, no dog today". He said no. I reminded him that if he ever needed a dog watcher, he could let us (my Wifey and I) know, and we would gladly do it. I later learned that Wifey had a similar conversation with him- to which we confirmed that he was not only smart and adorable, but also nice and friendly. He deserves his own name now (to branch him away from a random Coffee Shop Boy, to Dog Watcher). He will come back into play in the story a little later, but I needed to set up his entrance first*

BWC member and I decided we wanted to go up to the balcony of Bauhaus to see if we could spot any cute boys there. And wouldn't you guess who was up there? No, it wasn't the Pick Up Artist. It was Friend-of-a-friend! I couldn't believe it. Was he there because Bauhaus was the first place he had met us and I told him that Wifey and I were frequenting coffee houses these days? Or was he really there for coffee?? How long had he been sitting there? Earlier in the night (I think after I received the message from him) I looked up and told Wifey that I thought the guy in the balcony looked like Friend-of-a-friend, but we both determined "nah", it couldn't be him. I mean, we would see him come in, right?

Upon seeing him up there, I got so nervous that I bolted back down the stairs. I didn't know what to do. I went outside and told my Wifey that I thought I saw him. I sent her to the balcony to be sure that it was him. She came back down and told me that there wasn't anyone up there anymore. During this time I had very mixed emotions. Yes, it is true that I desperately wanted it to be him- but I also was hesitant in these feelings. Let's recap for a moment, shall we. He has a girlfriend! Or at least that is what facebook says (and everyone knows... you simply aren't straight and in a facebook relationship with a person of the opposite gender, unless you are really, truly, in a relationship... right? Or is this just a social misconception that I happened to fathom on my own?)

We determined that he must be in the bathroom. I was possessed. I decided that I would go wait in line for the bathroom as well- just to see if I saw him. It seems rather classic to run into people in the bathroom line, does it not. I went over and stood in line behind some other girl. The moment I got in line, Friend-of-a-friend comes out of the men's restroom.

Our dialog went something like this:

Him: "Oh, Hey!"

Me: "Wow, Hey! Wow. What are you doing here?"

H: "Eh, yah know, just writing. Eh, what are you doing here?"

M: "Well, I have been coming here a lot lately, like every day for the past four days. We are just sitting outside.... um, you should come out and see us"

H: "Yeah, maybe I will come and join you. I left my stuff upstairs, I am going to go check on it"

M: "Ok, see you later"

The woman in front of me was so cute. She was just kind of smiling at me. I couldn't help but explain the situation to her, while we waited in line for the bathroom:

Me: "Ummm. (giggle) I didn't come back here to use the bathroom"

Her: Just smiles at me "no, you didn't?"

M: "No... I mean, I don't even really have to use the bathroom"

H: Laughs

M: "Eh, you want to know something awkward? Earlier, I was talking really loudly over there about how much I wanted to see him... and then, wouldn't you know it, he was sitting right up there... oh God, I hope he didn't here me... I have to go". And then I left the line- which wasn't smart, because that interaction with him made me nervous and have to pee.

I went outside, to where we were sitting. I forced my Wifey to go and sit with The Pickup Artist at the table across from me. So here I am, nervously sitting alone, rearranging the stuff at my table (while a bulk of people outside are watching me), staring up at the balcony- as I can see him from my table- awaiting his decent. Meanwhile, I am doing my best- with the help of my Wifey- to ward off the carnivorous beasts who are after the empty chair sitting beside me; as it was extraordinarily packed outside, and seating as is was scarce. I did a good job, up until the time when I walked over to talk to Wifey and a stranger came and snatched my spare chair for himself. Wifey tried to tell him not to take it, but as I thought FOAF (friend-of-a-friend) was not coming down anytime soon, I told him he could have it. At this point, I become aware of those around me, and Dog Watcher- bless his sweet heart- offered up an extra chair at his table for me to take. I reply to this by saying "oh, that is so nice of you! (sort of under my breath, but rather loud) I better get filled now that I went to all that trouble. Hey, thanks so much!" Again, what a nice guy. I think we were providing some sort of entertainment for him, if nothing else.

So I wait, and wait, and wait... and it seams as though FOAF is not coming down. As I go to pick up my things and move over by Wifey, I realize that my scrabble tiles from earlier are now strewn about on the ground. I clumsily pick them up just as FOAF is making his way downstairs. At first I try and collect them rapidly, but then I start to take my time. Maybe this will start a conversation. Maybe he will help me. He was ordering a drink, so I found myself picking up the tiles at a snails pace, with help from one of the BWC, and occasionally spilling them back on the pavement (woops). Finally, I picked them all up- but while I am doing this, I become invisible, he comes outside, sees Wifey, and starts to talk to her. So I pack up my things and go over to that table. Not at all casually, might I interject.

After some deliberation, Wifey and I suggest that we join him inside to "study". He accepted our offer, but Wifey insisted that I go in alone. I was so nervous. I hesitated, and walked very slowly up the stairs.

And just another interjection: I DO NOT chase after boys with girlfriends- ever. I back off. The Ex cheated on me before. It sucked. I have been there, and lord knows I don't want to be "that girl". But for some reason, I still felt anxious/excited to talk with him- though I know (so long as he has a girlfriend) I would not resort to doing anything to compromise that. It is just not my style. If nothing else, I figure I can end up with a good friend when all is said and done.

Anyway, we talked for a couple hours. Wifey visited us once, and then left. We talked about a lot of things- but never his girlfriend. Maybe I am wrong, and maybe I need a little insight on this, but when one has a significant other, is it not in their nature to mention them occasionally , or casually in a conversation (or two) that lasts a few hours?

The reason why I am so taken aback with FOAF is because he is very easy to talk to. Kind of like 31 year old, only Friend-of-a-Friend is actually my age, and we are going through similar life experiences. I can't even tell you what we talked about, because I don't really know. There was so much, I suppose. The conversation, again, didn't die, and didn't get repeated. It is refreshing. And I found myself genuinely laughing a lot... again. And yes, there was still some awkwardly pleasant small talk, with such topics as "middle age women and their kitchen decor, which more or less has to include some sort of rooster that you stick your kitchen knives into". Oh brother.... that is all I have to say. Let me repeat myself, if nothing else, I have made a new friend who is easy to talk to- which is a high demand in my life right now...

I think Wifey and I are going to invite him and his roommates out on Friday with us. We will see where it goes. It can't go to far (not that it would) though, because I have a date on Saturday with 31. He is pretty excited about it. I am positive he is going to try to make a move on me- I am just not sure how I am going to handle that yet. But I will make sure to blog about it in the up-coming days.

Ladies Night

Yes, it's ladies night so all you gents move off the floor because you have lost your turn to jive.

Ladies night, or so it is to be called, is the only way to properly acknowledge the happenings of the night.

New Character Introduced: Femme Fatale

New Set: Txori

The original plan for the evening (developed long ago, and by that I mean a week ago) was to hit up Belltown with the Wifey and Wifey's friend(s?).  At some point in time, though I don't remember which, in the afternoon, Roommate agreed to accompany us as well- which actually worked out great because wifey's friends canceled and I am pretty sure  "Ladies Night" should include at least three women...for good measure, if nothing else.  And so, the plan was hatched.   

Roommate and I left to go pick up the Wifey and dine at Red Robin, those reasons by now should be more than apparent.  I did a little flirting while driving- once with the neighbors who offered Roommate and I to join them in their beer shananegins, and once with a fellow gas-guzzling drive-aholic.  The second was not premeditated, I was just trying to be a good citizen by rolling down my window and telling him that his "thing was open" (in reference of course to his gas cap).  When it turned out he was attractive, I just kept smiling and looking his way...I think at one point in time I may have even given him a thumbs-up.  

We picked up Wifey, went to Red Robin.  No luck.  Went to Txori, which is a pintxos bar, where Roommate's boyfriend works.  Didn't do any boy-scouting, but did eat some of the best food I have had in a long time.  All three of us got wine-soda's which, much as the name sounds, conaitn red wine and either orange soda or cola.  None of us were very familiar with the Belltown area (location of txori), but had it in our heads that we could go bar hopping there.  Unfortunately, we did not find any bars to bounce to or from- they all seemed to be eateries and we were full already, so we ended up going to Linda's.  

We had two rounds of drinks at Linda's.  I never thought I would end up drinking with Roommate because of our own self-proclaimed "uptight-ness".  It was fun though.  I tried a kamikaze, suggested by her- which I actually liked.  We tried to dare each other to make moves on various boys, but all of us chickened out.  

Roommate had to leave early because her boyfriend got of work, so Wifey and I moved from our hidden booth to a table by the bar, for better leverage of course.  

This is where we found the action of the evening.  What would ladies night be with out a little action- and what better suited action than by another female?  Enter Femme Fatale.  Let me preface this story by saying, if my cleavage was a penis, I would be very well-endowed, so to speak.  Let me also say that on this particular night, ladies night, I chose to wear a dress that lifted and highlighted my own girls.  Ok, back to the story, so here Wifey and I are, sitting at a table by the bar, when- wouldn't you know it- a female approaches our table, we will call her Femme Fatale.  She says that there is a pool of money at the table where she is sitting and she will win it if I let her motor boat me.

Cut from story: Urbandictionary.com

Urbandictionary has this to say about motor boating: "1. Motor Boat: To bury ones face in some giant jugs and shake your face back and fourth while blowing out, and making a hubababa sound."

Back to story:

I think for a minute and then decipher what motor boat must mean, to which I smile gently and politely shake my head "no" proclaiming, in a very sweat dumb-blonde type of voice, I might add, "no, I don't think so, thanks though".  That was the most action any of us got all night.  But  what would possibly be more appropriate for ladies night?  

Oh, also a side note to this story:  After the motor boat incident, I pulled out my bandana to wear, thinking "this might cover up some of my cleave" when a familiar face, who was standing next to me, told me "no...don't do that, it only attracts more attention to that area".  For the whole night I thought this was someone I knew from school.  Every now and again he would pass our table smiling at me.  Wifey thought he might be gay, but I told her that I, for some reason, did not think so.  The following morning it dawned on me; where I knew him from, that is.  Turns out he was the guy a year or so ago that tried to ask me for my phone number so we could have a dinner date at open mic- while I was sitting with the Ex (and while we were still dating), which was awkward because I wanted to be polite, but also had a boyfriend at the time.  I ended up leaving without giving him my digits...but that was probably why he was smiling so dumbly at me all night- because he too remembered me from long ago.