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Posts Tagged ‘cocktails’

Okay, I went out with this guy on Friday night. We shared the same musical tastes and had some commonality with other interests. He was tall, handsome, metro.. what wasn’t to like?

The first thing he did, when I arrived at the café, was offer me 5 different types of candy. Candy?! Maybe some people would consider that endearing, but it turned me off. I don’t want to date teenagers, at 36, I want to date men. So, beyond the candy, what I found out next was that he was a workaholic for the wrong reasons, money and status. He mentioned twice that his jeans cost over $500. Let’s call him $500 Jean Guy.  At 32, he had two divorces behind him, one wedding that cost him $80,000, which he felt relevant to tell me. The other, the most recent, resulted in his 4-year-old daughter and a contemptuous relationship with her mother, a woman, whom he informed me, before our first cocktail, within 20 minutes of meeting, that she was bipolar and abusive and that she is costing him enough money to afford her nice tropical vacations. All this before a cocktail!

Shortly after that admission we wandered out of the for some drinks and oysters. I needed a cocktail the way this was headed. We finally made out way into a little place in Harvard Square, and given a corner booth, he proceeded to sit a little too closely, keep offering me candy, telling me to look at him and slurping his oysters with sound effects. Eww. I like oysters, love them in fact, but you are supposed to let them slide down, not slurp slurp suck. Eww, as I write this I suddenly imagine that he probably has sound gross effects during oral sex. Eww.

We finished up at that restaurant and I found myself unnerved and in need of another cocktail to deal with him, so we wander to my local go to and sit at the bar. My date saving waitress comes by and helps distract several times. The bartender offers great drinks, and a shot. The $500 Jean Guy? Well, he starts sniffing me, telling me that I smell sweet, like candy, and then asks me if I think he smells nice. I never ask a date this, I just assume I do. If they don’t like my parfum, they won’t go out with me again. I give big eyes to my waitress friend, who “happens to need to talk to the bartender” and $500 Jean Guy then proceeds to tell her how nice I smell, and how I smell like candy. Suddenly a co-worker of mine appears after spotting me from across the bar and he tells her too… how I smell like candy, as he starts to eat from his bag of candy he bought earlier this evening.

He walks with me for a bit until our paths, luckily, part, and then proceeds to text me and let me know that when I am over my ex and ready for something less than casual, that I can call him. He also informs me that I should have kissed him. No, no, really. Ok, umm, he was weird. Creepy weird. Something also reminded me of Brooklyn , maybe it was a similar body build, facial thing, propensity to just stare at me weirdly. When I met Brooklyn, I thought it was flattering, in retrospect, once I really got to know Brooklyn, from beginning to end, his intensity towards me was just uncomfortable and weird.  How many times did I just say weird? I can’t help it because weird, creepy, and unnerving are the only words that match.

So, what does any frustrated girl do after such a date? She walks past the 24 hour grocery store and buys two different types of ice cream, because she can’t decide, cheesecake bites, raisin toast, yogurt raisins and cereal. I rarely buy any of those items. My heart wanted sugar and carbs to usher in the Hurricane that was coming.

So, I spent Saturday in torrential rain pours, feet soaked, dog soaked, body swollen from carb overload and heart heavy from missing TypeGeek. I had texted him throughout the day to remind him of things to do, just in case, like garage his car, secure any plants in pots outside, watch for odd behavior from his cat, etc. At one point, after he mentioned that he was at a party, I mentioned that I was drinking cab and eating pâté, and potentially by the 3rd glass, I would probably be thinking inappropriately naughty things about him.

He responded with a … “pâté, ewww, gross”.

I made fun of him, told him he was 4 and mentioned that I find it funny how he can eat the muscles but not the organs. He came back with a ,”still gross”.

To which I playfully remarked… ” lucky for you , I never had an issue putting organs in my mouth “.

Silence for a bit, and then “yeah, that’s very nice”.

“I would take TypeGeek over Country Pork any day”, I retorted.

“I’d take a blowjob any day over pâté” TypeGeek said

and so… I responded that ” all you ever need to do is ask”

With that comment said, I went silent for the rest of the evening. We then texted a bit on Sunday as he sneered at the lack of impact the storm had on his neighborhood, while I tried to get the 8 feet of fence that fell in my yard to stand back up and told him to shut it. Then for about 5 minutes on Monday. It’s no mystery or great secret that I want Type Geek and I don’t want to walk away. It’s also no great secret that he doesn’t really want me to go away, or he would not engage in conversations with me about oral sex. I want him back in my bed by his birthday. Sigh.

Meanwhile, I conversed with a couple of men on OkCupid, I didn’t sit and dwell and mope. I also touched base with my friend on Google+ who is going through a divorce after far too many years, and my old Kiwi friend who needs girl advice because he has met someone who sends him ass over tea kettle. It’s been a full week. I’m looking forward to a Thursday Night free without any dates or plans. I think I need a little time with just my dog, my bed and a book. Hope you all made it through the storm safely. Speak to you soon!

 

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The first post Type Geek date. Sigh.

This was a man I talked to prior to Type Geek, even a bit during, while deciding whether I was going to date T.G. exclusively or continue dating others after Cooper Fiennes and I stopped seeing each other. Older than what I go for, 44. Chubbier than I go for, by maybe 15 pounds. He has 2 pre-teen daughters that live with him part time, an amicable relationship with his ex wife, and no real career to speak of. He gave it up to raise their kids while his then wife focused on hers. Now, 2 years post divorce, he’s wrapping up schooling to get a teacher’s certificate.

He’s a stark contrast from Type Geek. Different. Same height, but different.

We met up at a local foodie haunt for oysters and cocktails. Added a few other small bites in over a 3 drink night of easy, albeit not incredibly connective, conversation, and he seems like a sweet sweet guy. He also seems ready for a relationship again. Really ready. I’m not. I need mindless physical passion without romance right now. I need to find another Spaniard who will fuck me senseless in doorways and behind warehouses, in rental cars and on city benches. I don’t think this Single Dad will be the one to do it. This guy makes girls pancakes in the morning, buys them a robe for his bathroom, gives them daisies. I don’t want daisies, I want to be picked up and put on the kitchen table and fucked.

He has to know that this won’t go anywhere, he knows that Type Geek and I just broke up last week. Thankfully he didn’t try to kiss me, but his hug goodbye was long and extended, both arms, hands squeezing the back, rather than patting. He hugs like a woman. It felt too intimate. I did the one armed hug, I may have even patted. I’m just not ready to embrace anyone else yet. Type Geek’s body still fits in my contours, they haven’t changed shape yet.

On the way home I stopped at the 24 hour grocery and bought cookies and milk. I was bummed out. I wanted chocolate sandwich cookies and lots of dipping. Inadvertently I ate the entire box. I used the cookies to replace a hunger that I couldn’t feed. I miss my bald boy, but baby steps. I got my first post date out of the way, that was the hard part, right? Or is the hard part how much I miss Type Geek?

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I’m in Boston. There, I admit it. Some of you have guessed, and over time, I have grown bored of hiding that fact. With that said, it hasn’t ever been a huge part of my blog, nor will it become so. I am fessing up however, because I was on my friend Bella’s radio show this evening and also met up with a new friend, who I met through my blog. Southie Single, as she is known, is awesome. Witty, attractive, intelligent, a great catch in a city full of douche bags. So, she and I decided to meet for a drink and commiserate over our dating woes.

Certain neighborhoods of our city are known for their residents interesting take on class and tradition. Southie Single and I sat at the bar of one such bistro, a place I adore, a brunch worth devouring, and cocktails so well-balanced that they feel as if they were without a creation, but that they just always were. So, here we are, sitting at this tiny bar in this tiny bistro in a quiet neighborhood of affluent bitchiness when a nice young gentleman approached and asked if he could sit in the empty seat between ourselves and an older woman to our right. All started politely. Us bloggers drank our cocktails and ate our salad and flourless chocolate cake while I eavesdropped on the conversations around us. The bartender made a comment about a dog and the solo gentleman commented that he didn’t have one, to which I chimed in that every man needs a dog. He said that his place was too small and felt that dogs didn’t belong in an apartment, to which my response was that there are so many dogs that live in kennels at the shelter, a small city apartment would be a far better alternative. Then the older woman started rambling on about how dogs do not belong in the city and how her neighbors have dogs  whom she would like to poison. POISON?!! She spoke with a contrived english accent, the type that seems to be crafted for the sole purpose of exaggerating her elitism.

Southie Single and I chuckled at the absurdity of the woman. Her beliefs in a true divided class made me delight in the idea of her departure from this planet. I know that is perhaps cruel, and I joke about it in a way in which I would never truly mean. I wish not for her death, truly, but perhaps for her to be maimed and lose her voice so she can no longer leave her home and spout her poisonous barbs.  At some point she got up to speak with some older men to the other side of Southie Single and I, perhaps in a hope that they followed her beliefs. We chatted up our solo diner and laughed in unison and solidarity over the nonsense that had occurred. We then said goodnight to him and I offered to walk Southie Single over to a department store for the winter hat she sorely needed since snow is predicted tomorrow.

After a few minutes in the store I was able to convince her to join me on Bella’s radio show, as the station was around the corner. The topic was bloggers and dating sites and while Southie Single originally felt she wouldn’t say much, eventually she opened up. The hilarity that occurred however was in she and I realizing that I had met and ALMOST gone out with her worst date in history. A man who felt porn was an instruction manual for dating and while he had a beautiful voice and was a great replicator of others music, he was, an utter self-centered incredible douche bag. Not at all deserving in any woman baring herself for him, as he was unfairly critical and had beyond what are appropriate levels of self-confidence. He considered himself a teacher, when he had so much more to learn. All I needed to do was write down one name as she was talking about him and she started to laugh hysterically as we realized that in fact we were thinking of the same man.

Moments like that make me thankful for Type Geek. He may be a lot of things, including 15oo miles away in the snowy mountains of Wyoming with the boys on a big wilderness trip, but he isn’t an utter douchebag. He is, however, an adorably scrumptious package of tush…and I haven’t gotten laid in a while due to logistics with our schedules. That MUST happen within hours of his return or I am afraid that my clit, the bitch that she is, will atrophy and fall off. I don’t think my insurance covers that.

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 Of course. That’s become the motto of the moment. It covers so many things and is, quite simply, the most appropriate response to most occurrences in life. Last week was a slow dragged out week of almosts. Type Geek and I tried late night naughtiness 3 nights in a row, with each night becoming a huge FAIL. Due to his work schedule, family issues, and his travel to Europe, he wasn’t able to make it work except for one night. That one night, however, he fell asleep without unlocking the door for me first. SIGH. Now, he is in Europe, drinking good beer, eating better food, and hopefully relaxing more than he has been able to in months.

Meanwhile, I was looking forward to the spare time so I could get to know Cooper Fiennes a bit more. I wasn’t sure what that meant yet exactly, BUT, I did know that it would be easier to explore it without the concerns of scheduling around Type Geek. I adore Type Geek. He is comfortable to be around, sweet and does this thing with his nose when he is in thought that just makes me die. It’s cute and endearing BUT also kind of a turn on because it’s so humanizing. I look forward to spending time with him when I do, but it is easy to make him a priority amongst my dates, as he has been around longer. The night he flew out I had dinner with C.F. and we just walked around the city for hours afterwards. He has lived here for a little bit now, but, there are many areas that he is unfamiliar with. Nicely played were his spontaneous attacks of kisses in doorways and exterior alcoves on a chilly night. We parted ways at the last train and I definitely was wanting more.

The next night he asked if I wanted to come have wine. I declined. I didn’t want to come over so soon, I knew where I might try to lead it, so I said I would rain check. He made a snarky comment about how his religion doesn’t allow him to have wine with the same beautiful woman two nights in a row anyway and he is, of course, very religious. So, it’s good I declined. I let him get away with corny ridiculous comments because he is always saying them in jest and with a smirk that forgives many things. Instead of an intense make out session with him, I stopped at Whole Foods, then wandered home for dinner and some writing. The next morning is when everything went WRONG.

My website was acting strangely and so I put in a support ticket. This support ticket led to a discussion of upgrades and an agreement on a pay-per-upgrade fee with my hosting site. As I looked around for my credit card so that I could pay the invoice, it was no where to be found. The day before a 3 day federal holiday weekend and now I need to get a new license, new social security card, new bank card, new LIFE. Ugh.I spent 2 hours in the Motor Vehicle offices getting my new license, the upside being that they allowed me to retake the god awful photo from ten years before. I was unsuccessful in the Social Security Card but I was successful in getting the bank to provide me cash without an id! Yes! I texted Cooper Fiennes about my day and said quite simply, “I need a drink”. He responded that he would think up something fun, so I should come meet him after walking my dog.

 That evening there was wandering around, there were cocktails, Indian food, and when he asked if I wanted to go home or…. I interrupted by saying, “I’ll take a cab, let’s go make out”. We spent 2 hours chatting at his place, showing each other photos on Facebook, and staying a foot apart at all times. Were we pilgrims? Amish? WTF is with this distance thing? I think we were both trying to access the situation. Eventually I laid across his bed as I read something he was showing me, hoping that my horizontal position would inspire some decision making on his part. Did it EVER!! I was fully planning a night of MAKING OUT, but, I brought condoms JUST IN CASE. I also had no idea of size, so I brought regular and large versions of the Kimono MicroThins. 4 hours of awesome sex later, we fell asleep to the sun coming up and birds chirping outside the window. Iced Coffee, random street kisses and sideways smirks were how we ended the morning as we came into the city together and went off to do our separate things.

On Sunday I decided to do some housework and hang out in my general home area. AS I was trying to open the jammed window, I slipped and ended up falling into the window just enough to spider web it. Anyone ever try to get a replacement glass repair done on a window over a holiday weekend?I opted to wait until midweek on that but Cooper Fiennes was insistent on my meeting up after his picnic so that he could cheer me up. Coffee and a late dinner mixed with back rubs and kisses in the public park were not just what THAT doctor ordered but also what really cured my grr. We said ciao at the last train and headed our separate ways, only after seeing a naked man in the hotel window 4 floors above the train station. This set both of our minds wandering and resulted in several hours of gchat sexual confessions once we both arrived at our homes. I slept 4 hours, fully committed to spending Monday getting the work done around the house that I said I would, only CF texted me at noon asking if I was hungry. So, brunch at 2:30 turned into ice cream at 4 and his taking an hour rowing class while I walked around a bit. Then we met back up, had a not so late, for us, dinner, and more back rubs and make outs on our park bench before the last train. I wanted to go home with him. I also wanted to curse mother nature since my period showed up yesterday, eliminating the endless sex I was planning for the week. Sigh.

I’m having moments of feeling guilty for carrying on with two men at one time. Why should I though? I’m not exclusive with either. I haven’t lied, I am practicing safe sex and, other than the annoying douche bag former lawyer guy from a few weeks ago, these are not one night stands. These are men whom I am genuinely interested in and enjoy their company. One of the situations has a clearly defined expiration date due to the nature of his research and his return to Barcelona. The other? Well, we shall see what becomes of that. I’m not going to be the one to have that conversation about exclusivity, because I don’t want to answer the question when it shows up. Avoidance and a lot of weaving and ducking… those will be my weapon, should the conversation be brought up by Type Geek.

The holiday weekend is over. There are over 50 wildfires in Quebec and I wonder if the Mayan’s might be right about 2012. If so, I plan on living as much as possible between now and then. If that means some sexy Spaniard and some orally fixated musician turned designer at this juncture in time, then, of course, bring it on!

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My ex broke up with her girlfriend…AGAIN. Hopefully it sticks this time. The relationship is volatile and dangerous. If everything that has happened now, isn’t sufficient reason to leave, it will take one of them in the hospital and/or jail in order to finally end this relationship. So, she called me after picking up her things from the other woman’s apartment and was headed home when I suggested that I buy her and her mother lunch, someplace cheap, so that they could just decompress and potentially have a few laughs, rather than wallowing in a bad place. She agreed.

We met halfway between where I was with my dog and a client and the, now, ex-girlfriend’s apartment. A Panera Bread cafe. They have this apple chicken salad I LOVE. Her mom had a ham and swiss on rye and my ex, she had the tomato soup…and picked at it, as she picks at all her food. We were sitting there listening to her dissect, again and again, this girlfriend and the actions that led up to this moment. It’s exhausting after a while. All you can do is be supportive, but sometimes, that is difficult when they can’t be supportive of themselves. It feels like a losing battle.

I realized as we sat there that there was a sex shop around the corner. Hmm, I need condoms. I have the Kimono Large because the guy I was hoping to be with when I bought them was jewish and a bit girthy than average. Type Geek is not jewish so the large would be wrong. After we finished our lunch, my ex and I wandered over while her mom sat in her car. Her mom was a little embarrassed. We walked in and she went off and pouted, looking around and thinking of her now ex. I stood staring at the condoms. So foreign to me after 12 years with women. I had hoped to get some regulars but they didn’t have the extra thin regular Kimonos. Hmmpf. I ended up picking up a couple Skyns and some Avanti Bares. The Polyisophrene material is supposedly far superior to latex in terms of heat transfer and feeling, both for the wearer and the receiver. We shall see. I also picked up some Sliquid lube, as I was told the Skyns can sometimes dry out quickly without additional assistance. Not good and good to know!

Perhaps I will get a chance to try them out on Saturday evening AND Sunday morning. One never does know what the world shall bring. Type Geek and I have that date with the dog and an outdoor music festival on Saturday afternoon. Sun and grass can be quite good for the libido, especially if I figure out how to wear something that isn’t suggestive but is. Hmm, demure sundress sans panties? All I know is this… I have been thinking of having sex on Type Geek’s kitchen table for days. Why? I am not sure, but surely, this would be quite fun. That is a small goal for this coming weekend.

The rest of the week is shaping up to be post worthy. Cooper Fiennes and I are grabbing a cocktail and a trip to the cinema tonight, and Brooklyn wants a dog free lunch meet up on Thursday. How will this be? I haven’t seen him in over a month I think. I have been able to subdue my feelings for him, compartmentalized them in a way that is safe and allows me to exist without constant thoughts. I miss him, yes. I miss that connection. I can’t continue as we have been however, I can’t continue being disregarded. I’m not sure what is going to come out in our conversation over lunch, if we make it to lunch. I might find him too frustrating to be around and just walk away. Perhaps, this is what needs to happen.

Sweet, sweet “hump day”, the week is at mid-point, but there are still so many stories that need to be told, adventures to go on, life to be lived, before the week cycles into the next. I can’t sleep with the Spaniard. Not yet. That would be too many men in 7 days. I do want some kisses against a wall and in the rain though. How hot would that be? Mmmm, yeah. Super hot.

So, what are your experiences out there with all the different types of condoms? Informal survey… comment with your most favorites, least favorites, what ones broke (the horror), what ones made you thing a steel drum around your cock would have given more sensation?! Inquiring minds, we want to know!

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What an interesting week I had! I got laid 3 times, in 4 days… by two different men. One, uber needy and slighty stalkeresque. The other, unexpectedly fabulous. But again, wow, no sex for MONTHS…and then 2 men in 4 days. I feel so… dirty, no. Naughty? No. Hmm, what is that word? Oh, relieved. Ha! YES, that IS what I feel.

In a week so much has changed though. Mr. Lawyer McBratty, whom I slept with on Wednesday night and whose bedroom skills fell into the category of pleasant mediocrity, was just TOO much to bear in terms of personality flaws. He began systematically insulting everything I was passionate about if he didn’t understand it or like it. From my musical tastes to my spiritual and philosophical leanings to my relationships with animals. He said that I was intelligent with good common sense, so why was I being irrational in my interests? He was being argumentative in order to make my arguments more precise, he explained. Oh, I thought it was to ensure that he would never get laid again. Needless to say, but, he is completely out of the picture in only 6 days!

Type Geek has won himself the gift of regular sex after taking a surprise turn from shy non move maker to my new oral sex rock god. Can we all say hallelujah?! All hail the man who can get me to curl up in a ball and break into hysterics. (Does anyone else out there laugh hysterically when they cum? Am I an anomaly?)

Now, the bookends. In my weekend post I mentioned having chatted up a hot McHotty from Spain on the dating site and arranging to have coffee with him on Saturday afternoon, prior to my date with Type Geek. The hottie, in person, was even hotter than he was in virtual 2-d. Yes, I keep saying hot. A mix of Bradley Cooper and Ralph Fiennes, I nicknamed him Cooper Fiennes. We had a great few hours together on Saturday. Very easy to spend time with him.

My date with Type Geek spanned the Saturday evening into Sunday early afternoon. Evening and morning sex, multiple meals, and lots of time spent naked in bed. An excellent pinnacle to the weekend. I spent a few hours at home on Sunday, wrote a post for this blog, showered, ate a real meal and then I received an email from Cooper Fiennes. He was in the city with his childhood best friend, a man visiting from Spain. If I was in the city, would I like to meet up with them for coffee? The dog and I decided that coffee was a great idea, if it meant strolling around with a dangerously handsome man who finds me attractive.

His friend was a darling man. I bought all of us coffee and we sat in the sun with my dog. The boys even took turns walking her, something they found entertaining because of her inherent youthful exuberance. When she and I walked them to the train and said our ciao’s, she whined frantically as they ascended the escalators to the platform. They had made quite the impression on my little girl. It was a nice end to a very fun, very sexy weekend. Great sex bookended by coffee with a gorgeous foreigner. Yes, please.

Now, the new week has begun. It has already begun to fall into place. I had a re-exam by my dentist, you may remember him as the youngster who likes rough sex… but later admitted that it was only because he was trying to emotionally protect himself. He is a doll…and now, he is my dentist. He graduates in a few short weeks and will be moving to Minnesota sadly, so, we have three appointments this week in order to ensure he has completed all my fillings prior to his getting signed off and cleared for diploma. In addition to that, I was going to go to NYC to see my Virtual Sex Guru pal present an art piece he has been working on, however, things fell apart at the 10 o’clock hour. With a sudden free evening, Cooper Fiennes has stepped up for a night of cocktails and the cinema. Saturday is an outdoor music festival with Type Geek and my pooch, with a high potential for naughtiness later that evening. The topper of the week, however, is this. Guess who started texting the hell out of me this afternoon? Guess who really wants to see me and have lunch. Guess who might need to wait til next week. If you said Brooklyn, you would be correct. My feelings for him have not changed, however, until HIS ability to process and respectively assimilate his feelings for me into his life, in a way other than how he has been doing it the last couple of months, I refuse to jump through hoops and make myself available at his whim. I will not contort my reality in order to fit him in. It’s not my job.

Sigh. I think this may be a very interesting summer. A hot summer fling with a divorced Spanish man who is unnecessarily good-looking, regular naughtiness with an ocd designer, and the myriad of other men who may happen upon my lap, or I upon theirs, in the coming months. May we all have some adventures worth talking about.

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay.net

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I went out with Type Geek  last night. A rock show and foodie approved dinner. I have a cleanse planned to begin tomorrow so this was to be my last meal and alcoholic beverages for two weeks.

I was running late due to a well-known holder-upper called dog with the suddenly shy bladder (she always does this as I am trying to leave for a date) and a missed train connection. He was even later. He was late the first time we met as well. This is good though. Keeps the pressure off of me for the future, right? I ran over to the local natural food store while waiting for him to arrive and picked up some digestive enzymes to help get me through the cleanse that I am beginning the next day. I walked back over and waited…and waited…and waited. Okay, he was there in ten minutes. It wasn’t that catastrophic.

I had forgotten that he has minor height issues. He’s 5’8″, whatever, I’m shorter than that… except when I wear my 3 inch heeled boots. Oopsie. I am sure he forgave me since I was wearing a dress and femmed myself up for the night. Don’t get me wrong, I am naturally a feminine gal BUT I don’t live in dresses and other than lip gloss and some mascara, I don’t wear a lot of  makeup. So, he got me with tarted up smoky eyes, hair down (I usually stick it up in a twisted knot), in a dress and stockings! He should consider himself lucky.

The host inside gave us a 10 minute estimate and while it was 20 before we sat down, I didn’t feel we waited long for a busy night. The server was cute in a slighty foreign, probably smokes in bed kind of way. A she, by the way. Dark hair, tiny. Cute. The atmosphere was great, chill and quiet with just enough chatter to be interesting. The clientele was young urban hipster with cash. Food was excellent. Type Geek ordered scallops and I went for something uber nom, as I was embarking on a dietary cleanse the next day, I wanted the meal to be something worth having. Mmm nomnomnom mid-rare steak frites with garlic aioli to dip my fries in. I let him choose the wine with one stipulation…no red. I KNOW I was eating steak but I have this issue. If I drink red wine, kool-aid, blue curacao, etc… my mouth turns the color of the drink. Yes, my tongue, my gums, my teeth… it’s awful. It’s not a sexy look for a date. So, I avoid red wine on dates and in public. He did a good job. I can’t remember what he chose, but it was tasty. Big enough to hold up to the steak but delicate enough to not overpower the scallops. Bravo Type Geek!

After dinner we hit the rock show. He wasn’t interested in any of the opening acts so we lingered at dinner… only to get to the show and realize we still had an hour of lingering to be done. Hmm. Do we stay at this bar or walk next door? We went to the Middle Eastern place around the corner that was the site of my dinner with Frenchie. I was nervous I might bump into him, but hopeful as well. While I did NOT bump into Frenchie, I did bump into this cutie I met on the dating sites when I first signed up. We never actually hung out as it was apparent that we weren’t really each other’s type BUT it turned out we had a connection in common. It seemed that I knew his ex-wife vaguely. We had never met though, only chatted on-line/via email. As soon as Type Geek and I made it to the bar at the Middle Eastern restaurant I recognized him at the end of the bar. He looked just like his photos and apparently so did I because we made eye contact and I walked over to say hello. We exchanged pleasantries, hugs, and phone numbers. It was nice to meet him in person, even if nothing was going to come of it.

While Type Geek and I finished our drinks (cider for me, beer for him) we made up stories, theories, conspiracies even, about the people crowded around us in the bar. We lost track of time and suddenly looked at each other with faces that said,”oh shit!”… we then headed over to the show, only missing one song from the headlining act! The band was pretty good. It reminded me of Social Distortion, a teenage favorite that still tugs at my nostalgia strings. We stood in the back and just listened to the band and watched the crowd, feeling too old and responsable, we drank water for the rest of the evening. At one point I needed a pee and so I left T.G. to keep guard over my purse, jacket, and the remainder of the steak, which was to be a special treat for my pup when I got home. One knows to NEVER bring a purse into a public restroom. Unless you want to hold onto it the ENTIRE time you are peeing and washing your hands, it WILL become a magnet for things I cannot pronounce, let alone want to type in this blog. SOOOO, I get in the bathroom, I stand in line, I mind my own business and just as it’s my turn, I notice her. The girl who was sitting on the floor suddenly falls over and begins to pass out. Oh NO, NOT on my watch! So, I forfeit my place in line and get her seated upright, I yell out orders to people around to get her some water, ask a bartender for some chips, bread, SOMETHING to put in her stomach, and most important I keep her talking. I find out enough to direct a staff member to find her friends and then order them to get her home AND make sure she throws up. If they need to stick their fingers down her throat themselves, that girl needed to get rid of some of that alcohol. I can’t even imagine how she feels today. Oh, to be 21. Hmm, or 35… cause wasn’t that me just awhile back? Yeah, in a date’s bathtub. Nice one Student Driver.

Type Geek was curious about why I was gone so long, as it was longer than the usual “long bathroom line for the girls room”. I told him the story and he looked half amused and half concerned for the girl. Since he was used to my prolonged absence at this point, I snuck away for another minute and bought him a vinyl from the merch table. Red Vinyl, sexy, no? He loved it. I can’t do much these days, my business is doing beyond poorly and things are rather grim, even the waxing is off the table for the moment, BUT he did take me to a very nice dinner and a rock show, I figured a $15 collectors vinyl from the show was a fair thank you. After the show let out I looked at the time and let out a very audible,”hmmm, shit”. The trains had stopped running and cabs HATE/often REFUSE to go to my neighborhood. THANK GOD T.G. has a car now!

We walked the half mile to his place and I was curious, what was he thinking of me? I mean, a man doesn’t spend that much on someone they have zero interest in, correct? But, he wasn’t making a move. AT all. I lingered in his apartment, wondering if chatting awhile on the couch might get him to do something. Perhaps it would have IF he hadn’t sat in the chair on the other side of the room. HELLO?!! Am I hot or what?I look just as good up close, better in fact… ahem, cough, cough. I gave up after twenty minutes and we left so he could give me a ride home. I was feeling gratuitous SO I gave him another opening in the car outside my place… alas, nothing. I hugged him goodnight and kissed him on the cheek, which he reacted quite happily to. I had a sudden moment of , fuck this, and grabbed him and kissed him. The verdict? I’ll give him a redo since he was caught off guard. But so far, of the emotionally available men (i.e. anyone other than Brooklyn), Frenchie leads the pack in good kissage. I may run into T.G. at a street fair on Sunday. It’s in his neighborhood, he knows I will be there… we shall see.

Meanwhile, Frenchie…hurry up with that damn paper and make out with me!

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