(I hate animals, but cats in particular. I don't care about them and I don't think they're cute.
The fastest way to fall from my good graces is to send me pictures of your pets.)
I can't even remember the last time I've WANTED someone to call this badly. And yes, yes, I know there are "rules"-- I've even written about them before. I even know that, ironically, if I waaaaas hearing from him, I'd be less interested than I am now not hearing from him. (Case in point: Between the Man and Buffalo Bill, my phone is ringing off the hook. This is, so far, only serving to annoy me and NOT, as they would assume, decreasing the amount of time they will spend outside of my pants.) Or at least that's what I'll tell myself while I wait to hear from him.
...So do we think a Friday night meet gets a Tuesday call? Wednesday?? Damnitall!
Anyway, let's start over.
Last night, I met up with my cousin and a friend to go to out in Philly. We grabbed dinner and then decided to check out a new bar I'd heard of recently that has a great sister place in New York. It was a speakeasy and true to form, ridiculously hard to locate. We walked past three or four times before we finally found it-- something that never seems to happen to Chuck Bass when he's galavanting around at all of his hush-hush places (that are, for some reason, always overrun with half-naked women). After freezing outside for a few minutes, we were shown to a table for three right next to a table of three guys. As we walked by, one of the gentlemen caught my eye, and upon confirmation from my dates, was deemed quite a cutie.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the three of us could not have been less smooth in checking him out and he and his two friends quickly conferenced on how to best handle the situation. Friend closest to us introduced himself and his two companions, Friend B and Cutie. Lucky for the three of ussss, what we lack in game, we make up for in conversational skills. Cutie slid around their table to sit closer to us and we all began to talk, with eventually Cutie and I slipping into our own discussion.
Cutie was great. He was funny and good-looking (again, confirmed by everyone when he stood up to go to the bathroom and we got to take him all in), ivy league educated, successful, just enough older than me to be settled but not enough to be a perpetual bachelor, the list goes on. After he had a few drinks he even said something cheesy about feeling like he was at the point in life where he was tired of being single (ka-ching, confirmation of dating status) and referenced being ready to move forward in life (double ka-ching, hopefully isn't interested in playing games or wasting time [though all men do those things even when it isn't their intention, so I need to remember to not read too much into this]). Things flowed fairly smoothly until I noticed my cousin and friend getting ready to leave (but waiting patiently to see how it played out between us). I was caught off-guard and so abruptly interrupted my conversation with Cutie that we were both a little thrown off. Several awkward pauses and a big group-on-group wave goodbye later, we were off.
As we walked down the block, I lamented the fact that he didn't ask for my number the entire time we talked. "Do you want to go back in and give it to him?" they asked me. No, that's too big of a move on my end. But man, now I'm so sad. "I'd rather regret doing than not doing," my cousin said. Hm. Shouuuld I go back? "Make up your mind, woman! It's freezing!" my cousin pressed. So, before I lost my nerve, we turned around and walked the block back to the bar. I told the bouncer I'd left something inside and he let me right in.
Cutie & Co. looked up as soon as I entered and I tried, stomach-in-throat, to approach them as coolly and calmly as I possibly could. "Hi," I said, leaning over their table. "I never do anything like this, and I know this is really bold, but...would you like to call me sometime?" I asked. As Cutie exclaimed that yes, he really would, Friend A and Friend B immediately chimed in going, "yes! Yes he would! He was kicking himself when you left. You're a lifesaver. Thank you for coming back!" Friend A slid out of the booth so I could sit down next to Cutie and give him my number. We smiled at each other and, as casually as I was able to manage, I stood up and walked towards the door (desperately racking my brain for the whole eight feet to the exit trying to remember if the door was a Push or Pull and concentrating on not tripping or walking silly in my five inch heels to avoid disastrous embarrassment).
I walked back towards my dates, emerging victorious and totally high on life. I spent the whole drive back to my parents' like any normal, sane woman would: planning our upcoming nuptials.
Spring 2011, I'm thinking. And you're all invited.
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