Pizza Boy

Out at a bar one night I was approached by a young adult male. I was, as usual, pretty drunk and my memory from that evening is fuzzy. I believe we made polite conversation as the bar closed and found out we were around the same age and lived in the same area.

So me, being a total and complete pushover, willingly gave my (real) phone number to a stranger who I talked to for a grand total of 5 minutes. I usually assume that drunk guys who ask for my number are not going to call.

Boy, was I WRONG.

This character (whose name I did not remember) proceeded to begin texting and calling me immediately the next day. Multiple times a day. With voicemails. The texts included pet names along with numerous invitations to meet up for pizza or at a bar with friends. I declined all invitations, but I did enjoy the attention so I played along for a little bit. I even wasted a solid 15 minutes learning his name and some information he may have told me the night we met. He told me about his job as a pizza delivery boy and his life goal of being a contractor. Not to be judgmental, of course, but he seemed to be as much fun as a root canal AND had no ambition.

After that I did not answer any phone calls or text messages. Pizza Boy was not discouraged. One night, after about 2-3 weeks of my ignoring him, Pizza Boy left me a voicemail. On it, he said "Hi its [Pizza Boy]. Yeah, um, I don't really think this is gonna work out...", followed by some other nonsense.

WTF? I had just gotten dumped by a guy I wasn't even dating? And one I had already tried to cut ties with by completely ignoring him. To his credit, he sounded very drunk on the message. But that made me no less confused. I felt a bit of a blow to my ego, but why? This kid was a total weirdo. Again I said, WTF?

Pizza Boy wasn't done. A week or so after telling me it wasn't going to work, he tried to redeem himself. He left me a message apologizing for what he said when he was "ripped", then said he could always use a friend and asked if I wanted to go out with him a few weeks later.

Obviously I ignored this message again. I am still not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by his behavior.

The Numbers Game

1. 10. 32? What's your magic number?

A few weeks ago a college acquaintance and I met for drinks. Somehow, after a few too many beers, we got around to the topic of partners. And how many. His number was three times mine. He wasn't exactly proud, but I told him for a guy, it's ok. Am I validating the double standard? I think I'm just accepting that few guys will turn down a willing partner. My drinking buddy assured me that since my number was not as high as his, it wasn't bad. But I wondered if he was reassuring me or hoping to add one on to both of our numbers at some point in time.

I won't reveal my number to the masses, but let's just say a few too many drinks and I'm often easily persuaded. I'm not saying I'm easy but I like having a good time. And I think I've had my fair share of one-nighters to boot. But before I get into too much detail, do numbers matter?

If you met someone and they told you their number was 17, would your opinion of them drastically change? 71? What about the make out slut who is still a virgin?

If someone didn't know me, I'm not sure I'd want them knowing my number. But if your new partner tells you their number, would you freak if it was outrageously high? Or low? Or accumulated in a very short period of time? What about emotional attachment? A very low percentage of my number I actually cared about in any way shape or form. Can I discount my number to reflect that?

Another big question is drunk sex. The majority of my partners had me only after I was under the influence. If being drunk doesn't count, my number would drop significantly. And back to emotions, there were zero involved in my drunken escapades. I like to think of drunken one-nighters as a contract of sorts, both parties seeking physical enjoyment consent and it is assumed there will not be cuddling or follow up phone calls.

But if numbers are purely a tally of notches on the bedpost, I guess rationalizing is just a waste of time. Maybe we should just throw numbers out the window and let the past stay in the past. Or use the don't ask, don't tell method? Lie? Who knows.

Boy Friends

Not boyfriends. Male friends. Platonic relationships. Just like a girl friend with some extra parts? Not quite. But a guy who is solely your buddy, pal, amigo and comrade. Call him what you will. But we all have at least one.

My (straight) guy friends are best suited for two things: drinking and dispelling advice on my current boy problems (when such problems arise of course). The answer to my many questions is usually the same. You're great, why wouldn't he like you? Or he's a jerk. The same answers I receive from my girlfriends. This advice always boost my self-esteem, but does not necessarily provide the honest male point of view I'm looking for.

I have recently gotten to thinking about our relationships with guy friends. Some say its easy to have a purely platonic relationship with the opposite sex, while others say it's near impossible. Do they guys we talk about our boy problems with give us honest answers because they care as friends, or in a subconscious attempt to get us to fall for them instead? What about the friends you've have forever, who always have a girlfriend? Heaven forbid you get along great with your friends new flavor of the week. Or the guys you never hang out with one-on-one but always have great conversation with at a party? There are the ones with best friend status, who you're sure you don't like in that way but...what if? The ones who you see in a new light when they have a new flame, or the hot-bodied ones who you know "too much" about to ever fall for.

I don't think I have an opinion on this, but I do think that many times, one of two parties involved in an opposite-sex friendship has non-platonic feelings for the other. One of my good friends often makes innuendos and is incredibly complimentary to me and my two female counterparts. Are we special? Maybe, maybe not. I used to have a major crush on one of my good friends, but I'm pretty sure it was solely because he has an amazing body. There is zero chemistry, plus he's hooked up with at least two of my good friends. If he crushed back, I have a feeling he would have acted upon it.

My final thought is about what happens when you and a friend do become an item. About a year ago (and not long after I stopped dating his friend), a good friend of mine began drunkenly confessing his love for me. Having known his less than perfect history with girls, I often brushed him off and gave him every excuse in the book as to why we'd never work. One of my many excuses was that he slept with one of my rather slutty friends. To make a long story short, I eventually realized that he wasn't so bad after he continuously made an effort. And there was undeniable chemistry. He came to my hometown to see me, took me out to dinner a few times, and even invited me away for the weekend. This game went on for quite a while. There were ups and downs and flirting and making out. But I never let it go farther than that. And when I finally did (sleep with him), it was wonderful. Years of restraint from both sides coming together. I was happy and excited to see what came next.

Until the next day when I saw him and we had an incredibly awkward exchange. I invited myself back to his apartment, hoping we could repeat the night before. He mumbled something and didn't really answer. I even texted him later on that night to see if he had changed his mind. But he still hasn't answered, and that was four months ago. So now I'm not only out a crush, but a friend. Guess I should have stuck with my gut.

Really, Mom?

Talk about embarrassing.

My mom has always been embarrassing in the usual ways that moms are. But recently she has taken it to an extreme. As a nurse, she is always in the presence of eligible interns and residents at a local hospital. I of course, being desperate, jokingly tell her to hook a girl up! HELLO! Why not?

This is why.

Mom has told me about these future-doctors ever since I could remember. The hotties, the notties, nerds, snobs, you name it. I think she has been feeling more brazen (or simply senses my desperation) lately because she told me about one (married) resident who has my realistic dream car (white Audi A4), and told him all about her boring brunette daughter. Lucky me, crazy mom and a boring accountant. I'm sure they are going to be lining up for my number.

The anonymous bragging I can deal with.

Sharing my photo with this Audi'd resident and asking him if he has friends who might be interested?

Mortifying.

The Dud

When I was on the prowl on Valentine's Day, I spotted a chiseled, dark-haired, button-up wearing "hottie" from across the room. Utilizing years of magazine pick-up tips, I flashed my best smile and coyly turned back to my drink. He flashed 10,000 watts of pearly whites right back and approached me. My studying was paying off.

Or not.

So "Casey" (his name should have been a giveaway for what was to come) and I began chatting, and he asked me what I was drinking... and why it was half full. We began dancing and he told me that I couldn't. Thanks, guy. For some reason, despite my two left feet, "Casey" continued dancing with me and pestering me about my drink. Finally I got fed up and told him he could have it if he bought me another. I thought this was a reasonable compromise. "Casey", apparently, did not. We danced for a bit longer and when conversation pretty much stopped (and I was thirsty) I ran off to the bar. "Casey" followed and asked what I wanted and I assumed that he'd ordered. I turned around and he was staring at me looking utterly clueless and claiming he ordered but the bartender for some odd reason had forgotten to give him our drinks. Nice try, "Casey". I ordered my own drink, paid for it, and ran for the other side of the bar.

What a dud.

Is it so much to ask for a replacement beverage, even if just out of common courtesy?