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Posts Tagged ‘dark and stormy’

Interesting end to the week. Friday night I had a date with the Half Asian Hipster, only he isn’t actually a hipster and he’s more a martial arts trained entrepreneur with a really comfortable bed. Yes, I said bed. Now, before you start thinking naughty things… let me start at the beginning of the day.

Brooklyn and I had some heavy back and forth emails Friday morning. They needed to happen. Things had gotten strange since we *almost* had sex and they weren’t getting less strange. More on this next post.

So, I was glad that I had made a date for the evening with the no-longer known as Half-Asian Hipster, now known as Martial Arts Trained Entrepreneur. I needed distraction and fun. We met at the bar a half hour after the time we had planned, he with traffic issues, me with train issues. We had two drinks there, oh and I think he made us do a shot. Hmm, three drinks there. Oof, now I am understanding what happened. So, I feel fine, he is nice, way more muscular in person than he looked on-line. Kinda shocked by that. It made sense as the night went on and he explained how he grew up partly with his mom in Japan and was raised talking Kendo and various other martial arts. This body strength came in handy at the 4.5 hour mark of our date.

Anatomy of a What Was I Thinking night of bar hopping:

Venue 1: 9:00-10:30 Drank two Dark and Stormies and some shot called a tic-tac ? (Wait, I am 35, did I really just do a shot?!) Hmm, what to do next. We drove back to his neighborhood to check out some dj’s. We parked his car in his complex, dropped his jacket at his place and headed to the next bar.

Venue 2: 11:00-11:20 Drank one Dark and Stormy and a shot of Patron. (Wait, ok, shit, was that another shot he just handed me? ) DJ was lame. Left

Venue 3: 11:35-12:00 Walked down the street to check out one of my favorite venues but there was a line out the door. I don’t do lines for *possible* admittance. Not since I was 14 years old and sneaking into clubs with a fake ID. Somehow on our way back to check a different venue,  the conversation shifted to something about height. So, next thing I know, we are both barefoot on the street corner kissing. Hmm, ok. We put our shoes back on and end up in another bar. I order us a drink, asking the bartender to just make us something rummy and tasty. While I am waiting, a strange troll of a man standing next to me starts chatting me up. The man actually looked a bit like a taller Gollum, with better teeth. Why was the bartender taking so long to make this tasty drink? When it finally arrived, I wondered if I said tasty at all to him, unless, I guess, battery acid is tasty to him, because the drink was vile. So, my date , whose nickname here spells MATE in its acronym, HA HA HA, he and I opted to go back to the 2nd venue because it was better than this place with Gollum and the drinks from hell.

Back to Venue 2: 12:15- ? One more Dark and Stormy. Some dancing. A little flirting. Some occasional kisses.

This is what I remember. What I lost is us leaving the bar at closing, not grabbing my blazer that I had tossed under the table to make sure it didn’t get anything spilled on it where I was dancing, walking back to his place. Knowing we needed time for him to sober up before driving me home and my deciding that laying down for a second was a great idea.

Things come back right at the moment I feel myself about to vomit, he THANKFULLY happens to be standing near me and quickly picks me up (remember how I talk about him being strong?) and carries me into the bathroom. (The next time I leave the bathroom, it’s nearly light out.) Soon after my entering the bathroom, he leaves and comes back some shorts, a t-shirt and leaves the room so he can let me get undressed. I guess I hit the white pants a bit, so he offered to wash them for me. I spent a few hours curled up in a ball in my underwear in his shower with the hot water running on my back. When the hot water ran out, I shut it off and just laid there. He came in and draped towels over me to keep me warm because I wasn’t ready to get out yet. He went to bed and I alternated between 20 minute naps on the cold tub bottom and waking up to vomit. It was a glamorous moment in my life. Eventually the stomach settled enough that I could crawl out of the tub, strip out of my cold wet undies and into his shirt and shorts. I brushed my teeth with the toothbrush he left me, thank god for small miracles, and CRAWLED out of the bathroom, across the floor and into the bed. Amazingly comfortable bed.

We woke up to the most gorgeous day of the year so far and he ran off to get me a venti iced green tea and a Kind Bar from Starbucks as I struggled to sit up and face the world. I felt good, surprisingly. Then I went to have a pee and got the spins and threw up three more times while he was gone. He came back to find me back in the bed but facing a different direction. The tea was well appreciated, the Kind Bar was not loving my stomach after the two small bites, so that hung out elsewhere. We laid there and talked for a half hour and I really felt like a shower would help me so he left me alone and did some work stuff while I threw up two more times and then showered. I came out of the shower far more alive than I had been feeling in nearly 8 hours.

The sun streamed into his apartment and felt nice coming through the open windows. I sat on the couch and let him finish his phone conversation as I sipped on my green tea with my once again brushed teeth (This was third time brushed in 14 hours!). I remembered that I had made a cocktail date with someone off the dating sites for 1:00 pm. That wasn’t happening. The thought of cocktails anytime in the next month sounds awful and the reality that I would be the worst date in history for two men in one weekend if I showed up, made me cancel. I feigned food poisoning.  Food poisoning might get me a rain check, telling him that I am dead sick at some other date’s house, wearing said other date’s clothes and not moving anytime soon due to the sheer amount of alcohol I consumed the night prior, that would NOT get me a rain check. In case you were counting, 7 cocktails, including the two shots, on very little food. Foolishness.

MATE and I sat around for another hour while my clothes from the previous night finished washing, we played some Katamari, he smoked some pot (I’m not a fan but to each their own if it’s in moderation), I vomited one last time, brushed one more time and finally got around to eating my Kind Bar before getting into my own clothes and getting driven home.  It was a beautiful day and I missed the majority of it. My dog waited at the door angry at the lack of breakfast and the absence of bathroom breaks over such an extended period of time. I couldn’t get into a car and go home before I knew I wasn’t going to vomit once in the moving car. I’m sorry puppy, I really am.

So, the remainder of the weekend became a series of naps, reintroduction of food and conscious avoidance of texting or calling Brooklyn. Sigh. TGIM

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I woke up yesterday morning with some errands planned and a tentative date scheduled for the evening. He is someone whom I talked to a bit in December and then lost touch for a few weeks until the end of January. We agreed earlier in the week to have a loosely scheduled date in the 6:30 ish realm for Saturday night. No hard defined plans. Honestly, I was not feeling like it though and was hoping that I didn’t hear from him. He had suddenly become a Plan B.

After my meet-up turned date on Friday afternoon I found myself thinking a lot about Brooklyn Boy. I hadn’t met anyone whom I immediately felt an ease and comfort with like I did in his company. It seemed as if we had known each other for years as our rapport was so natural and unforced. He Google IM’d me around 9 pm and we spent several hours chatting online before I told him MY big “secret”. His response to my news, that I was just coming out of over a decade of lesbian exclusivity, was one of  surprise but not offense.  Most people aren’t offended per se, but there are preconceived beliefs that can interfere with someone’s attempts at getting to know me for who I am, which isn’t only as someone with a queer slant to my sexuality. Maybe it’s the New York in him, he isn’t fazed by much. He wants to see me on Saturday, if I am available. This is WHY my original date became my Plan B, as Brooklyn Boy suddenly took over top billing. I decided that if I didn’t hear from Plan B by 2 pm on Saturday, Brooklyn would win the spot.

So, I woke up as my 25-year-old texted me, hung over from a party the night before. I’m in need of distraction and ask him if he wants to tag along with me on my errands. We met an hour later, watched enough of the DVR’d Olympics to see the luger die and I dragged him out of his apartment. I couldn’t watch the news coverage, it was just too dreadfully sad. Meanwhile, I kept hoping I didn’t hear from Plan B.

We wandered around the city, grabbed some sesame balls from Chinatown, picked up my duvet cover, bought some dog food and then wrapped up our early afternoon adventure at a café with some latte’s, cinnamon tortilla chips and sea-salted caramels. 2 pm had come and gone and Brooklyn Boy had texted me and agreed to pick me up at my place at 4:30. A new hair conditioner I used in the morning had turned my hair into a bad science experiment show and tell exhibit so I had an hour to rush back to my place to rewash my hair and be ready.

The train was delayed. Tick Tock Tick Tock. Argh. I texted him begging that he please not be early. As I was hitting send, he texted me letting me know he would be roughly 20 minutes late. Score! I finally made it home, fed the dog, washed my hair and changed three times before taking the dog out for a quick last walk before he arrived.

A few minutes later he arrives in his family van, a sign of a parent with two young kids, and we decide to go into the city and figure out our plan from there. He’s still cute and I’m still intrigued. Sometimes the initial interest wanes after you go home after a date but it didn’t with him. I want his story. We are both obsessed with stories about people, we have similar projects we are planning on working on that are built around the stories of people you pass by every day and never think much about. Everyone has a story worth telling and being heard.We find a parking spot with a 2 hour limit but 2.5 hours until it switches over to free. We make note to stop back by later. Since his soon to be declared ex-wife doesn’t drink, he doesn’t get the opportunity to go out for cocktails much so we decide to start there. We each had a Dark and Stormy, chatted, laughed, people watched and then another round and some kisses and some more laughing and then a final 3rd round. Starting so early with the cocktails and having had so little to eat earlier in the day had us both a little pie eyed. We left and realized the time. Surely he had a ticket. We hesitantly walked by the family van and SCORE again, no ticket. That NEVER happens on this particular street. We look at each other quizzically and decide that to go to a little book store café down the street, maybe grab a bite and a cup of tea, sober up some.

Somehow we ended up sitting on the floor in the far aisle of the bookstore against a stack of unpopular books. I say they are unpopular because we sat there for 4 hours and only 3 people walked by the entire time. 3 people whom we chatted up and exchanged info with. Over the span of time we were sprawled on the floor we varied in position, at times I had my head in his lap as we looked through books, other times he leaned into me, or we faced each other, legs entwined and backs against opposing shelves.  The people who we met, one of them asked how long we had been together, how we had met. We laughed. When we confessed they looked shocked. They said that we appeared to have known eachother for years. We looked at eachother and smiled, it felt like that.We sat there on that floor for 4 hours like an old couple, punctuating moments with kisses, absent-minded caresses and laughter. He showed me illustrators he liked, I showed him a book of poems by Neruda, whom he had never read. He reads out loud. It’s nice, comforting, inclusive. I can not remember the last time I had felt such an ease with another person.

Eventually the bookstore threw us out because they were closing. he had a long drive back home so we decided to get back to the car and get me home. Only, we sat and talked, and talked, and stared at each other and laughed and kissed for 2 more hours. When we finally looked at the clock and saw that it was past 2, we untangled ourselves from our embrace and got serious about getting me home. Parked in front of my condo, I suggested I grab the dog for her last pee, and so he could meet her. In addition to kids, he also has a big cumbersome male dog. My pooch barely let me out the door before she had dragged me across the sidewalk and practically tackled him. She spent 15 minutes engrossed in him and the delicious scents of his family van. It’s a treasure trove of dropped kid snacks and dog cookie crumbles. We laughed at her and said our good nights. I made him promise to text me when he has arrived home safely.

I spent the next 2 hours chatting via IM with varying friends who happened to be online. We talk about him, I send over pics to them. Everyone approves, some worry about the complications of his current status. I counter that we all have baggage, some hide it better. His however, is completely in view. No apologies, it is, what it is. He has kids, he is in the process of getting divorced and for some reason something in my profile resonated with him and made him sign up to meet me. I consider that a gift. A fabulously unexpected gift.

Today is Valentine’s Day. Brooklyn Boy just texted me that he misses me. Is it okay that I find this sweet and not unnerving? I guess I like him too, so it’s okay. I have an Anti-Valentine’s Day date scheduled with my 25-year-old tonight but I am tired and really want to clean my house. I am also feeling a little run down. I am going to see if he minds a rain check. I would rather get some laundry done, take some Motrin (thank you period for arriving this morning), and watch I Love You, New York with my pup and some take out pho. I hope he understands.

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I know, I KNOW. WHY am I going out with the Doppelganger again and WHY haven’t I told him about my connection to his brother? Well, he still hasn’t said his last name. There still isn’t enough linking me to his brother AND I guess I assume this will fizzle out before it gets there and SO, there is no point in saying anything. He’s nice and interested, albeit his attention skills are lacking and he is awkward, at best. I almost feel sorry for him. Being the older brother of someone soooo smooth and easy and HOT.

We met up at a small bistro/café and I had a (shocker) dark and stormy (As did he. The one thing he has on his brother…an expanded palate.) and grazed on the two appetizers he ordered. After numerous conversations, he still forgets about my food sensitivities and offers me things I cannot eat. Umm, remember, we have talked about this, several times. That is one of the attention issues I talk about. I seriously question whether he has ADHD. He’s easily distracted except when he kisses me. Seems like that is the only time he stops and focuses rather than looking around like a sugar binged toddler in a toy store.

Yes, that means I kissed him again. What am I thinking? I don’t KNOW. So we leave the bistro/cafe and it’s  semi early so we walk a bit to grab some hot beverages (cappuccino for him, chai for me) from the only coffee-shop I know to be open on a weeknight past 9 pm. I purchase the beverages while he is in the restroom. My way of being nice and thanking him for picking up the pricey part of our date.

We walked to the train, smacked in the face by the freezing February wind. I walked him to his station, mine was across the street. We said goodnight and as we were kissing outside the station, a turning car honked at us. It was a very funny moment actually. One he mentioned later in text, when letting me know he had arrived home safe and wanted to make sure I had as well. He’s nice. He’s blah but he’s nice. I KNOW. I KNOW.

So, I get home, and am dealing with the dog, making a snack, and checking my email when a drunken 25-year-old texts me that he’s missing our nightly banter. He’s flirty McFlirty and laying it on heavily. He wants to have an Anti-Valentines day date with me, mainly because I have plans Saturday night already. I told him, no romance. Action-Adventure film with violence and explosions, nachos/buffalo wings/or something equally unsexy, and Hard Cider or booze… no wine. Those were my rules. He then fell asleep while texting something about making out with me. What is up with that? I will give him the benefit of the doubt for being a full-time law student with a full-time job and the want to maintain a social life, which explains the 1:30 a.m. drunken text flirts but geez, I thought that one of the benefits of younger men was their supposed stamina?!

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I have a semi last-minute cocktail date this evening. A handsome man creature hit me up on one of the dating sites and we started chatting, we both ranked each other highly, even though we are suppossed enemies. The funny thing is, he has a physical similarity to an earlier conquest. He has the smile and the eyes of the Peruvian but actually likes the dark and stormies and strong flavors I gravitate towards. Is this the best of both worlds? There must be a catch. Regardless, this will be an interesting night.

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Two Dark and Stormies in fact. He had Dewar’s on the rocks. Tonight was one of those nights when I had planned to do NOTHING but housework, however,  he caught me in a moment of weakness. He texted asking if I was up for doing something tonight-ish rather than tommorrow-ish, as we had originally planned. Hmm, need shower, walk dog, cold as ass outside…. sure, why not?

We met at a coffee-house at 8. We sat, drank hot caffeinated beverages and chatted. YAWN. It was nice but we needed some alcohol in us. It was clear that we needed some assistance with the barriers. He seemed distracted, yet interested, stand offish, yet attracted. I was unable to read him, so I suggested a cocktail and he seemed all good with that. Still wasn’t sure where he fell on the interest scale, but I thought a couple of drinks would be more telling.  We walked a few blocks to the bar, a small hotel bar known for having good cocktails, specifically one of my favorites, the Dark and Stormy.

The crowd was a weird mix of suburbanites and convention attendees. By the time we had arrived at 9:45, people were already on their way to intoxicated and being rude and pushy. Were it not so cold out, I would have shifted us elsewhere. The heavens looked down upon us shortly though when I noticed two girls get up from a couch and leave. Sitting in the corner of a bar on a small leather couch with an attractive attentive woman is bound to illicit some response from a man if there are cocktails involved, right?

So, we talked about his RECENT ex girlfriend who broke up with him, ending a 4 year relationship over the PHONE while he was getting back from a business trip. My quirky gay thing, which raised a surprised eyebrow from him, but didn’t turn him off. His job in production and how religion plays into his family dynamic. His parents are strict Orthodox Jews from Latin America. He isn’t latin, other than by birth, in fact he looks very Eastern European. If you are familiar, he is Ashkenazi, which is a particularly German looking Jew. I know, I know… there is a Jewish trend in my life. What can I say, he was cute and then happened to be Jewish. His parent’s won’t welcome any girlfriend of his into their home who isn’t Jewish and he doesn’t tend to date Jewish women. Needless to say, this creates problems.

He also is a musician,of course, and a writer, of course, AND has multiple cats…. OF COURSE. Slightly Brooklynesque Hipster looking, not skinny jeans BUT not the traditional baggy legged jean either. It’s clear that his own individual style is AS important to him as an article or accessories function. Eventually we noticed that my train home was going to cease running if we didn’t leave in the next few so we paid our tab and wandered out into the single digit air.

At the corner we realized we were going opposite directions and said our ciaos. We hugged each other goodnight and as we were pulling away, whether it was mutual or my initiation, we had some nice kisses on the street corner. I would say he fared well above average. Definitely worth a second try.

In the train station, a nicely dressed 30 something black man approach me and asked me whether I had just been at a particular bar. I nodded and he went on to tell me, in a very polite and slighty shy manner, that he was working late and had stopped in with a friend, only to leave because the crowd seemed so overrun by, my word, douche bags and that he saw me leave. He said he was struck by how I didn’t look like I belonged there among the crowd, how I seemed intelligent, real, sincere and mischievous and found himself unable to shake my image from his mind after I had left. He isn’t at all what i would have ever approached but he was attractive and quite ballsy to come up to me like that. So, I gave him my email. He deserves it after an approach like that.

Now, after two pieces of toast with honey and peanut butter, I am ready for sleep.

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