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Posts Tagged ‘drunk’

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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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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