Friday, November 27, 2009


So, I resigned myself to gently let this guy down. I walked into the crowded bar alone, something I had done many times before, but this time I felt incredibly awkward.  I had decided that I would let him come to me.  I mean, what if I came in here to actively turn him down and he had just asked me out in drunkenness.  How horrifying would it be for me to turn down an non-invite.  Ok, my internal monologue was going faster than my racing heart. 

I spotted him across the bar.  He was deep in conversation with a table full of people.  I ordered a beer and sat waiting.  What was my plan?  What if he never saw me?  Just as that thought ran through my head I made eye contact with him.  Oh thank goodness... thank goodness, now I had to talk to him.  Shoot, I hadn't thought of this part yet.  I had been so focused on getting his attention.  He saddled up in the stool next to me, and the conversation was flirty.  I was terrbily uncomfortable.  If he asked me out, I would have to turn him down.  Wouldn't I?  As I was ruminating over this, he mentioned the afore agreed upon dinner. 

I began to stutter.  I came up with some of the silliest reasons as to why I couldn't go out with him.  Mind you, as I was turning this poor man down, in his own bar, his employees were frequently interrupting, making this whole thing more awkward.  He finally looked at me, and said, I am asking you to share a meal with me, not get married.  He accused me of being ridiculous.  To be fair, I was.  He was a nice guy, who wanted to take me out for a meal... what's so wrong with that?  So, instead of answering, I played the fool and gave the guy a trial date.

I spent that evening evaluating how this so called date could be.  Is this guy funny?  Can we share a conversation?  Could I be attracted to him?  After several hours of flirting and laughing and drinking the answer to all of those questions was coming up yes.  This was so opposite of how I was feeling just hours prior.  What the hell was going on? 

We went to an after hours bar and the fun continued, so did the drinking.  Some people call them beer goggles, but I think that mine were more like beer "glasses."  Things actually seemed more clear, all of my silly preconcieved notions seemed to fall to the wayside.  Suddenly, I was kinda into this guy.  We walked home from the bar and had the hottest makeout on the front porch.  This was a very different kiss from the one that we had shared just the night before.  It was a GREAT kiss.  This guy could really kiss.  Oh my goodness.  Good night sir. 

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