The pubcrawl was a Santa Suit pub crawl. My dumpee and I had been exchanging text messages for the past couple of days and things were weird. We were still friends, but friends who flirted? I knew what would happen on this pub crawl. I knew the minute I hopped on the bus and shot gunned my first beer. At bar one, we flirted casually. In bar three we flirted a bit more openly. By bar 6 he was grabbing my ass and at bar 7 we were kissing in the basement. We exchanged blurry conversation and made out some more.
When we got back to his bar we were flirting more and more. He took me down to the basement where we continued our unbelievable makeout. It felt so wrong, but so good. I was kinda drunk, but I knew what I was doing. As the night came to an end, he grabbed a cab, which seemed like the best idea for the both of us.
I woke up with the most incredible shameover. I felt terrible. I had dumped this guy and knowingly gone on this pub crawl to make out with him. Crap… so I sent him the apology text message. And the dance of confusion continued. We exchanged text messages where he told me sweet adorable things such as he liked kissing me, and everything was wonderful. Oh crap. What does that mean?
Saturday, January 2, 2010
And Now He Pays Attention...
So I broke up with him on Sunday, and Wednesday I went to dinner at his bar. I wasn’t sure how to act when we were seeing each other I was definitely unsure how to act when were just supposed to be “friends.” I sat uncomfortably at a table trying to figure out what I would say, would I smile, would I be coy? This really sucked. I sat with my friend and ordered dinner. Let the game of confusion begin.
After ordering dinner, he spotted me, we exchanged smiles. When our food arrived he sat next to me and we chatted for a couple of minutes. When our second round of beers came, he came back. He started to try to convince me to go on a pub crawl that coming weekend. I knew that would end badly, but for some reason it felt soo good.
Before he left, he gave me a huge hug, he followed it up with a text saying that he was glad to see me. The next day he texted me again. Around noon, he called me. Had I entered some sort of alternative universe? WTF? I had ended things with the guy because he wouldn’t pay attention to me and now I was getting text messages and phone calls. This totally sucked. The shameful desire for the most unavailable guy came crawling back (as well as the best sex of my life). The desire to sit and shoot the shit came falling over me. I just wanted to laugh with him, flirt with him. I just wanted it all, and badly!
I spent the rest of the week convincing myself that I wouldn’t go on this pub crawl, that it was a bad idea, but I knew I was kidding myself. I knew that I would be right on that bus, and I knew that I would flirt with him. And crawl I did.
After ordering dinner, he spotted me, we exchanged smiles. When our food arrived he sat next to me and we chatted for a couple of minutes. When our second round of beers came, he came back. He started to try to convince me to go on a pub crawl that coming weekend. I knew that would end badly, but for some reason it felt soo good.
Before he left, he gave me a huge hug, he followed it up with a text saying that he was glad to see me. The next day he texted me again. Around noon, he called me. Had I entered some sort of alternative universe? WTF? I had ended things with the guy because he wouldn’t pay attention to me and now I was getting text messages and phone calls. This totally sucked. The shameful desire for the most unavailable guy came crawling back (as well as the best sex of my life). The desire to sit and shoot the shit came falling over me. I just wanted to laugh with him, flirt with him. I just wanted it all, and badly!
I spent the rest of the week convincing myself that I wouldn’t go on this pub crawl, that it was a bad idea, but I knew I was kidding myself. I knew that I would be right on that bus, and I knew that I would flirt with him. And crawl I did.
9pm
I had called him one Sunday morning and left him a message that I needed to talk. Everyone knows what that code means. He called me an untimely amount of time later, just as I was picking up my gal pal. Obviously, I couldn’t talk, but I told him thatit was important. I'm sure that he knew what that meant and told me that he would call me at 7pm. I spent the day planning on how I was going to break up with him. This was not something I was looking forward to. I really liked the guy. This sucked. Why couldn't he just be a good non-boyfriend?
As I was talking myself out of it, 7pm rolled around, and then 7:30, 7:45, 8:00pm. More time rolled by and my desire to break up came flooding back. At 9pm I finally got a call. I was pissed. I drove over to his house prepared and ready to break it off.
He met me at my car and I couldn’t look at him. We sat down and I just let it all spill out. I told him that I wanted more. I told him that I couldn’t just be sex. It was a difficult breakup because we still really liked each other. (Not to mention what amazing sex I was passing on) After an hour, and several tears, on my end, we hugged and he asked me if we could still be friends. I said yes, and somewhere deep inside I hoped that it meant we would get back together. Somewhere deep down, I hoped that he would look deep in my eyes and say that I was the gal for him, that he would be a fabulous boyfriend and we would have a great relationship and “Happily Ever After…”
I drove home happy that I had ended it, disappointed that the guy I liked didn’t want me back, sad that I was alone, and hopeful that someday I would find the love of my life.
As I was talking myself out of it, 7pm rolled around, and then 7:30, 7:45, 8:00pm. More time rolled by and my desire to break up came flooding back. At 9pm I finally got a call. I was pissed. I drove over to his house prepared and ready to break it off.
He met me at my car and I couldn’t look at him. We sat down and I just let it all spill out. I told him that I wanted more. I told him that I couldn’t just be sex. It was a difficult breakup because we still really liked each other. (Not to mention what amazing sex I was passing on) After an hour, and several tears, on my end, we hugged and he asked me if we could still be friends. I said yes, and somewhere deep inside I hoped that it meant we would get back together. Somewhere deep down, I hoped that he would look deep in my eyes and say that I was the gal for him, that he would be a fabulous boyfriend and we would have a great relationship and “Happily Ever After…”
I drove home happy that I had ended it, disappointed that the guy I liked didn’t want me back, sad that I was alone, and hopeful that someday I would find the love of my life.
Casual + ME = ??
So, could I deal with a man who was going through a divorce? Well, he made me feel good, and he liked me. It had been a really long time since someone had liked me. Could I handle this? Ehhh… it felt so good. It was so wrong, this was so wrong, he wasn’t right for me. He couldn’t be my night in shining armor, but it felt so good. He was older, he had been married, and I liked the guy?
We started dating. I set up some boundaries, like we couldn’t get incredibly serious. I didn’t want to be called his girlfriend, and I didn’t to be serious, I didn’t want to fall in love with him. I realized I would probably be his rebound girl, but I was sure going to have fun while filling that role, right?
His bar was fabulous. It was where we would sit in the corner and exchange sarcastic comments about his customers and workers. We would share pints and wit and at the end of the night we would share the most amazing kisses. One night, not long into the relationship, while sharing wit and pints, I forgot just how many pints I had shared. Reality has it, that apparently, after several drinks, I get frisky. This night we didn’t stop at the porch, we didn’t stop at all. I invited him up.
We got to the bedroom and the chemistry didn’t stop at kissing. He was amazing. I had never had better and I wanted more. How had I missed out on something like that for so long? Where had this man been? (oh right married!) I wanted more.
This was new though. We were in a relationship, but we weren’t dating. Upon my insistence he wasn’t my boyfriend. I had created a casual relationship which left me in a great deal of confusion. How do I act when you are just seeing a guy? Do I wait for him to call me, how often should he be calling me? Do we go on dates? This was confusing, a casual relationship, with the most amazing sex of my life.
Things got more confusing as the weeks past. He would call me back infrequently, and untimely. We went on less dates, actually we didn’t go on any dates. We rarely hung out anywhere but his bar, and without drinks. Rarely did we ever hang out alone. I began feeling like he wasn’t as interested in me anymore. Sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring felt incredibly pathetic. The sex was great, but it wasn’t a relationship.
I realized that he and I rarely talked about things that mattered. We spent most of our time shooting the shit over a couple of pints. I was his rebound girl, and it felt like crap. How lonely was I, how long could I be the reboundee? I was just sex, and it felt good for the time being, but no longer. I didn’t want casual anymore. I didn’t want to be his rebound. Oh crap… how was I going to dump a guy who never answered his phone? It was my fault, I had told him that we couldn't be serious. CRAP!!
We started dating. I set up some boundaries, like we couldn’t get incredibly serious. I didn’t want to be called his girlfriend, and I didn’t to be serious, I didn’t want to fall in love with him. I realized I would probably be his rebound girl, but I was sure going to have fun while filling that role, right?
His bar was fabulous. It was where we would sit in the corner and exchange sarcastic comments about his customers and workers. We would share pints and wit and at the end of the night we would share the most amazing kisses. One night, not long into the relationship, while sharing wit and pints, I forgot just how many pints I had shared. Reality has it, that apparently, after several drinks, I get frisky. This night we didn’t stop at the porch, we didn’t stop at all. I invited him up.
We got to the bedroom and the chemistry didn’t stop at kissing. He was amazing. I had never had better and I wanted more. How had I missed out on something like that for so long? Where had this man been? (oh right married!) I wanted more.
This was new though. We were in a relationship, but we weren’t dating. Upon my insistence he wasn’t my boyfriend. I had created a casual relationship which left me in a great deal of confusion. How do I act when you are just seeing a guy? Do I wait for him to call me, how often should he be calling me? Do we go on dates? This was confusing, a casual relationship, with the most amazing sex of my life.
Things got more confusing as the weeks past. He would call me back infrequently, and untimely. We went on less dates, actually we didn’t go on any dates. We rarely hung out anywhere but his bar, and without drinks. Rarely did we ever hang out alone. I began feeling like he wasn’t as interested in me anymore. Sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring felt incredibly pathetic. The sex was great, but it wasn’t a relationship.
I realized that he and I rarely talked about things that mattered. We spent most of our time shooting the shit over a couple of pints. I was his rebound girl, and it felt like crap. How lonely was I, how long could I be the reboundee? I was just sex, and it felt good for the time being, but no longer. I didn’t want casual anymore. I didn’t want to be his rebound. Oh crap… how was I going to dump a guy who never answered his phone? It was my fault, I had told him that we couldn't be serious. CRAP!!
The Wicket Just Got Stickier?
So, he had convinced me to go out with him. He was very funny, smart and a great kisser and I was going to dinner with him. I was so excited. I love the feeling before the first date, when everything is pure. I sat through my grad school classes with a mixture of excitement and nervousness running through my veins. This guy really liked me and that felt great, he was taking me to a fabulous dinner followed only by drinks at his bar!!
Suddenly, I realized that I was kinda nervous. I hadn’t been on a first date in a really long time. When he arrived to pick me up for dinner, I was at a level three nervous. Less than two days ago I didn’t even like the guy. At dinner my conversation was worthless, I sounded like an idiot. He was cute, and charming, and told me that I looked pretty. I was putty. We walked over to his bar and I felt like a queen amidst paupers. I didn’t have to pay for one drink. It was amazing. We talked and joked and the chemistry was like nothing else. We closed the bar, and he walked me home and we kissed for a the perfect makeout. It was the most amazing kissing. Why had I considered not going out with this guy?
After kissing for a couple of minutes he looked at me and told me that he had something to tell me. With the most honest eyes possible, he told me that he was going through a divorce. He shared everything about the separation and divorce with me, I wasn’t sure how to feel. He had been married less than a year. He told me that he understood if I didn’t want to continue seeing him. I liked this guy, but a divorce? This could be messy? Could I handle this?
Suddenly, I realized that I was kinda nervous. I hadn’t been on a first date in a really long time. When he arrived to pick me up for dinner, I was at a level three nervous. Less than two days ago I didn’t even like the guy. At dinner my conversation was worthless, I sounded like an idiot. He was cute, and charming, and told me that I looked pretty. I was putty. We walked over to his bar and I felt like a queen amidst paupers. I didn’t have to pay for one drink. It was amazing. We talked and joked and the chemistry was like nothing else. We closed the bar, and he walked me home and we kissed for a the perfect makeout. It was the most amazing kissing. Why had I considered not going out with this guy?
After kissing for a couple of minutes he looked at me and told me that he had something to tell me. With the most honest eyes possible, he told me that he was going through a divorce. He shared everything about the separation and divorce with me, I wasn’t sure how to feel. He had been married less than a year. He told me that he understood if I didn’t want to continue seeing him. I liked this guy, but a divorce? This could be messy? Could I handle this?
Friday, November 27, 2009
Unstuck
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Sticky Wicket
So, I started a kickball team this past fall. My team was made up of mostly my gal friends and a couple of people who could play when they had the time. To be perfectly honest, my kickball team was just a reason to get my friends to come out and drink with me. Every week, I would scramble to get a small and pathetic team together to hit the kickball field. This kickball league wasn’t exactly a serious league, it was sponsored by my local bar, so I didn’t really take it too seriously.
Our season was over as quickly as it started and we were successfully the loosingest team in the league. I had never been more proud of my team. The end of the year party was to be the pinnacle of the season, we were being given the toilet seat trophy. I was so excited. I just wanted to have some fun.
My pathetic posse of losers and I sat at a table hanging out. I began to get attention from the owner of the bar. I ignored it as just him being drunk. As the night went on though, he began to get more touchy and more flirty. As I drank more, the less I minded. He wasn’t exactly my type, but as long as the attention was harmless, I didn’t mind.
I did mind when my roommate after many many drinks decided that she needed to be protective of me. She cornered my poor flirty bar owner. She basically asked him his intentions. With every word that she drunkenly slurred, I cringed inside. The more attention that she brought to this matter, ie his flirting, the more real it made it. I was hoping that I could ignore, that we could just play flirty face all night, and let it go. I’m sticking to the fact that the moment that my roommate brought attention to his flirting, he saw a checkered flag and the finish line toward a date.
Ten minutes later we found ourselves alone in the middle of a crowded room. He looked at me, and casually, but seriously, asked me out for dinner. He was so cute about it, I didn’t have any idea what to say. I had been avoiding this moment all night. Every fiber in my body wanted to say NO… but out of my mouth came a hesitant and unsure…. “Sure?”
It was like I wasn’t I wasn’t in my body for that brief moment because I was looking down at myself yelling… screaming NOOOO!! What the hell had I just agreed to. This was the bar owner of the bar that I frequent more often than I would like to admit. If I screwed this up, I would be out of a bar. If I went out with him, I would not be attracted to him.
Oh crap.
I decided perhaps I should sneak out when he wasn’t looking and chalk up this entire evening to being “drunk.” I looked around the bar, I didn’t see him, good sign, I walked out. I almost walked right into him. He was standing outside having a smoke. Oh crap. There was no getting out of this now. I waved good bye and tried to slide on bye. No such luck.
He insisted upon walking me home. Now this guy is a nice guy. He is tall a bit awkward and out of my age bracket. At my front steps I said thanks and good bye. He leaned in for the kiss, oh crap, I couldn’t turn away, that constitutes major rejection, I couldn’t make out with him, so I closed lip kissed him. It was like ABC family television show. There was no tongue, just awkwardness on my part. I don’t think he realized it, because when he turned he told me that he would call me tomorrow.
What a sticky wicket I had just gotten myself into.
Our season was over as quickly as it started and we were successfully the loosingest team in the league. I had never been more proud of my team. The end of the year party was to be the pinnacle of the season, we were being given the toilet seat trophy. I was so excited. I just wanted to have some fun.
My pathetic posse of losers and I sat at a table hanging out. I began to get attention from the owner of the bar. I ignored it as just him being drunk. As the night went on though, he began to get more touchy and more flirty. As I drank more, the less I minded. He wasn’t exactly my type, but as long as the attention was harmless, I didn’t mind.
I did mind when my roommate after many many drinks decided that she needed to be protective of me. She cornered my poor flirty bar owner. She basically asked him his intentions. With every word that she drunkenly slurred, I cringed inside. The more attention that she brought to this matter, ie his flirting, the more real it made it. I was hoping that I could ignore, that we could just play flirty face all night, and let it go. I’m sticking to the fact that the moment that my roommate brought attention to his flirting, he saw a checkered flag and the finish line toward a date.
Ten minutes later we found ourselves alone in the middle of a crowded room. He looked at me, and casually, but seriously, asked me out for dinner. He was so cute about it, I didn’t have any idea what to say. I had been avoiding this moment all night. Every fiber in my body wanted to say NO… but out of my mouth came a hesitant and unsure…. “Sure?”
It was like I wasn’t I wasn’t in my body for that brief moment because I was looking down at myself yelling… screaming NOOOO!! What the hell had I just agreed to. This was the bar owner of the bar that I frequent more often than I would like to admit. If I screwed this up, I would be out of a bar. If I went out with him, I would not be attracted to him.
Oh crap.
I decided perhaps I should sneak out when he wasn’t looking and chalk up this entire evening to being “drunk.” I looked around the bar, I didn’t see him, good sign, I walked out. I almost walked right into him. He was standing outside having a smoke. Oh crap. There was no getting out of this now. I waved good bye and tried to slide on bye. No such luck.
He insisted upon walking me home. Now this guy is a nice guy. He is tall a bit awkward and out of my age bracket. At my front steps I said thanks and good bye. He leaned in for the kiss, oh crap, I couldn’t turn away, that constitutes major rejection, I couldn’t make out with him, so I closed lip kissed him. It was like ABC family television show. There was no tongue, just awkwardness on my part. I don’t think he realized it, because when he turned he told me that he would call me tomorrow.
What a sticky wicket I had just gotten myself into.
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