The Office Opportunity

My friend Rhonda works at a Big 4 Accounting firm. Her friend, Senior Gal, introduced her to another senior who happens to be on the biggest client in the office. She would like to someday get on this client, making this guy a great contact. He is also decently attractive. The three of them went out after work once, and a week later Senior Guy invited her to a St. Patrick's Day party at his apartment.

Although Rhonda doesn't know him very well, she and some friends stopped by decked in shamrocks and beer hats. He paid her attention and even offered to drive her car home if she had a few too many Guinness pints.

Rhonda and Senior Guy have chatted occasionally at work and via text. She has been casually seeing someone, let's call him Metro Park, and wasn't sure if Senior Guy knew this. After she was away for two weeks, he asked her about her trip. Thinks were on the rocks with Metro Park, and she told Senior Guy that she and Metro Park were ending things.

A mere 24 hours later, Senior Gal e-mailed Rhonda at work, excited that she had ended things with Metro Park. Senior Guy must have told her. Uh Oh. They were obviously chatting about Rhonda! Was Senior Guy interested in Rhonda? Or just shooting the breeze with his coworker? A few days later, Senior Gal told Rhonda that Senior Guy wanted to hang out with her on Thursday. Sure enough, Senior Guy had written on her Facebook wall, saying something to the effect of "let's go out for drinks after work". Way to kill the element of surprise, Senior Gal.

Rhonda and Metro Park are actually still quasi-dating, so she went out with him on Thursday instead. But Senior Gal seems to really want to get Rhonda and Senior Guy together. Either that or Senior Guy is really into Rhonda. Or Senior Guy is just plain friendly. Just today Rhonda told me that Senior Gal asked her about her plans for lunch. And said that she was going to ask if Rhonda wanted to go to lunch with her and Senior Guy. Hmm.

In order for this situation to work for professional gain, Rhonda can't completely screw over Senior Guy. However, if she wants to remain professional she also shouldn't throw herself at him. And since she is sort-of dating Metro Park, she doesn't really want to go out with Senior Guy. But she doesn't want to miss out on this opportunity, either. So what is Rhonda to do? Politely oblige to a friendly lunch would be my guess. But what next?

Beer Goggles Boy?

While at a club with the girls on Saturday, I was being quite the social butterfly. I remember making lots of new friends and exchanging numbers with a couple of them. Luckily, despite copious amounts of vodka, I have a relatively firm grasp of the many ridiculous occurrences throughout the night.

When the four of us woke up, we obviously all checked our phones. I had an outgoing text that said a boy's first and (possibly misspelled?) last name. Disregarding this drunken escapade, I laughed it off with the girls and we went out our way.

To my surprise, this mystery number with a 413 area code texted me later that night. We went back and forth, and he used an overwhelming amount of exclamation points. Example:

413 Guy: Ok well we should hangout soon! Sometime!
Single Friend: Where are you from again? MA I'm guessing?
413 Guy: Ya Springfield area!

His over-excitement was entertaining to me (as these totally random guys usually are) so this went back and forth for a while. He then asked me if I had Facebook so I obviously said yes and he friended me a few minutes later. He did not have many photos, but he was actually pretty hot! After I accepted, I returned his enthusiasm with a "We're friends!" text.

And I have not heard back at all. Perhaps he was turned off by the fact that my Facebook photo is not of my face? Or maybe he doesn't remember me? Thought I was someone else? Beer Goggles may have gotten the best of both of us that night.

Giving the Nice Guy a Shot

After not contacting me for a few days, I thought I had "Too Nice" off my back. As usual, I was very wrong in this assumption. While sitting in 30 MPH traffic on 95, I received a text reading "what's cookin' top model?". Uh oh. So we started texting back and forth. Actually, he texted and I probably responded to about half of his long and too-much-info messages with relatively short answers. When I did not respond immediately, I received a number of texts in a row. What was a diversion from traffic quickly became an annoyance. He asked me (via text still) if I wanted to go on a date with him. I said maybe and I'd let him know, but being the overly persistent character he is, he asked me when I was available. Knowing he was not going to be worth wasting a weekend night on, I told him Tuesday. He continued to text on and on until finally, he said he'd let me go and not bother me.

Sunday he called me, and I stupidly answered the phone. Since part of the deal for Tuesday was that he'd foot the bill, I figured the worst that could happen would be free dinner. He wasn't totally sketchy and I might as well take it. He asked me what I wanted to do and I told him he could meet me in my hometown. As soon as we hung up, he texted again and I did not answer. Monday morning, I get another text "Have a great day at work". Do you even remember what I do for work, Too Nice? I was starting to dread the following evening.

But still, I was trying to give him a chance and not be overly shallow. So a few hours later, I told him the name of a restaurant I thought would be reasonable. And then the flood gates opened again. He was asking for directions, confirming times, and asking what kind of food it was and if it was any good. And blah, blah, blah. He also continued to call me top model in a number of these texts, as well as "filet mignon ass". I was starting to question if he even knew my first name and thought the top model thing was about as over as Dawson's Creek.

Fast forward to Tuesday at 6:30, exactly one hour before we're supposed to meet. The phone rings again and I am seriously unenthused about this date. I didn't answer and asked him what's up via text. And the texts from him continued throughout my entire primping process. I was officially beginning to get irate and wondering if I would be able to contain my anger when I saw him. I decided to call my friends to ask them what pleasantries we could discuss. Korey and Rhonda helped calm me down a bit. I told my cousins they would have to save me if I was going absolutely insane. And Maura brought me back down to earth and told me to stay positive and cut the kid some slack.

We arrived at the restaurant and started to make small talk. It was not the torture I had expected, and I tried to be relatively pleasant but was not overly enthusiastic. I immediately ordered sangria and he got the same. One of the first things he told me what that he'd gotten into an argument with his MOTHER about making a 40 minute drive to see me. He let me know he explained to her how we met "etc" and that she approved. What?! I was slightly dumbfounded and turned my attention back to the menu, citing different things I had tasted and what tapas I thought we should order.

The conversation did not flow easily. He talked a lot about his job and his family, and I often found myself saying "interesting" when he stopped blabbering on. Interesting? It was all I could muster. I was simply unable to find anything witty to say since I was so bored by his explanations. He also made it a point to tell me he was nervous about the date and wasn't sure he should ask me out. I repeatedly told him that I was a tough nut to crack. He realized this and once again said, "I was probably annoying with all those texts". Unable to disguise my feelings through my facial expressions, I tried looking around the room and changing the subject. He apologized, which also bugged me.

I inhaled my sangria.

Too Nice made sure to tell me a number of things about himself including:

• He pitched 20 out of 21 baseball games in high school, earning himself a scholarship to a forgotten school in Florida until he injured his shoulder. His arm is now a noodle.
  
• He was on the golf team in "college", his "college" being an apparent four-year institution which I would say is probably on par with a crappy community college. I also let him blabber about his Bachelors in Business Administration and failed to remind him my degree is in Finance and from a top-notch business school.
  
• His grandfather owns a Ford dealership and drives a Mercedes, and his aunt drives a Porsche.
  
• He often says he should "paint his Explorer yellow and put a taxi sign on it" because he always drives his license-less friends around. He also finds drunk people annoying and is usually the sober one. (I made sure to tell him I am usually the Drunk Girl).
• He describes himself as very well dressed and a bit of a neat freak. This is probably one of the only forgivable things about him.
• He was one of 19 people hired out of 100 candidates for his job, and could make a "shit-ton" of money working for this company. He also used the term "shit-ton" a number of times which I found strange and annoying.
  

To his credit, I'm sure he was only trying to impress me with these tidbits of information. Little does he know I am not easily impressed. He asked me about myself a bit, but I was not really feeling inclined to offer him very much information. When I failed to fill the silence with humorous anecdotes, he complemented my watch and asked who made it. He said it resembled a "Carti-ER"and said he was very into watches. He got a Pulsar for high school graduation. A Pulsar? I made a mental note to research the cost of a Pulsar but was 99% sure this brand fit into the Timex category. He then said, "let me show you this" and pulled oof a watch with the ROLEX printed on the front. Maybe things were looking up? Nope. He told me a woman he sold a car to (at his family's dealership of course) gave it to him and that it was a great fake made in the glorious country of China. I am not sure why one would be proud of having a fake Rolex or think it necessary to show it to me.

Finally, our drinks were done and he paid the bill. I offered to pay my half or at least the tip but he would not allow it. We walked back to the parking garage and he told me he'd walk be back to my car. I assured him he didn't have to and thanked him repeatedly for dinner. I then walked back to my car, not hugging him or suggesting we make plans again.

All in all, it was not a terribly dreadful experience. But it was not a thrill either. There was zero chemistry and even after a slight sangria buzz I felt no desire to open up to him. Or take him to the bathroom for a quickie. I am hoping I did not leave him with a bitter taste in his mouth for being too tough a nut to crack. I would definitely make no effort to contact him again, but if he contacted me I don't think I would ignore him completely. He is nice after all. On the other hand, his behavior has proven rather annoying and I would worry about him becoming attached. He is not particularly attractive physically. And I'm still not sure he knows my first name.

The (Misinterpreted) Signs

Last night, my friend Norbert and I went to dinner. While waiting to get seated, we had some drinks at the bar. The three middle-aged people next to us turned out to be quite a riot.

After they began joked around with us for a few minutes, Norbert and I went back to chatting with each other. When we get together, there is usually deep conversation involved, advice giving, and analysis of each others' lives. We dabbled in relationship talk and what not, and we were also checking out the bartenders. A bit later, one of the women told me we were the best looking couple in the restaurant. She asked me if we were together, and I just laughed and casually nodded. She said the thought so. She then pointed to the man in their party, who had said he thought Norbert and I were on our first date. After they mocked each other for a bit, Norb and I finally got our table. Norbert corrected them and told the woman we were just good friends. As I walked away, the woman pulled me closer and told me Norb was cute and that I should hook up with him.

Norbert has a boyfriend.

Luckily, Norb and I already know how hot we are. What's funny is that this crew of middle-aged out of towners was trying to figure out our relationship. What made the woman closer to us think we were together, where as the man further away thought it was our first date? Norbert and I, always analtyical, pondered this throughout most of our meal. Was it how I laughed so overly enthusiastically or Norb's incredibly posture? Did we not look relaxed or at ease? Maybe it's because we weren't canoodling. Perhaps the woman thought we were together because she heard bits and pieces of our conversation. She obviously wanted us to get together if we weren't. Either way, it was funny to hear what an outsider thought about us. Especially the hottest couple part.

Wait a Minute

This weekend, my guy friend introduced me to another female friend as "Everything you could want in a woman". The girl replied with, "Then why aren't you dating her?".

Silence.

From all three of us.

The Denim Debacle

This weekend, a few friends and I were discussing clothing and brands of jeans. My friend, let's call him Penthouse Pete, lives in a really nice apartment. He said a girl once asked him how he could live somewhere so nice and wear jeans from the Gap. He was slightly appalled by this but still decided to go to Bloomie's and buy some new gear to match his sweet crib. It's obviously shallow of this girl to say that the label on his jeans should coincide with the size of his apartment, but is it really that great for a guy to know designer labels?

I appreciate good grooming and I think it's great when a guy makes an effort. Except I am still unsure about designer denim. I dated a guy who was a metrosexual label whore, and I found it kind of irritating. He knew what brands my jeans were and noticed when I got a new bag. This led me to question his sexuality. Call me crazy, but I'd much prefer if a guy noticed how my ass looks in my jeans rather than be able to identify the Seven squiggle. It also adds pressure when you have to worry if your outfit is not only flattering, stylish and sexy, but expensive to boot!

Gap jeans aren't that cheap. And really, do some girls need to give us all a bad rap by saying a guy needs to wear True Religions to be worthy of our attention? Maybe it's because jeans and watches are the only real ways a guy can show off what he's got. After all, we can carry Louis and wear Louboutins and labels galore, but a button down is a button down, at least from the outside. But jeans are not just jeans. Not if you live in a penthouse.

Too Nice?

On Friday night, my friend Elena and I went to a bar/club outside of our comfort zone. It was about a forty minute drive and a new-ish place. I was more excited to be out with Elena than venture into the unknown, but I tried to stay positive.

We arrived at this "hotspot" and I advised Elena I wanted to turn around and go to a more familiar setting. Not only was it 18+ night (which I haven't attended since I was maybe 17) but the crowd was an interesting mixture of trash and thug. I was wasting an outfit on this?

Elena was not phased and $7 later, we entered this enormously empty "club". We made a beeline to the bar and order shots. Lots of them. After a few rounds and a little dancing, Elena struck up a conversation with the only guy who appeared to be over 21 and somewhat normal. While they commiserated about this "club", I somehow started talking to his friend. He told me I was beautiful, and rather than thank him or compliment him back, I said "I know. I'm a model". Undeterred, he asked me to pose. And I made a ridiculous face and he laughed. Clearly this was not true. But this definitely opened the door for more conversation, and we chatted most of the night. He continued to compliment me and I half-jokingly remarked I was the hottest girl at the bar. Surprisingly, this guy was somewhat intelligent, had a real job, an apartment, and we found we had a lot in common. He invited Elena and me back to his place when we got bored of being at the bar. I refused, but always easily persuaded I agreed to it once Elena told me it was a good idea.

We got to his apartment, which was relatively clean with no visible signs that he was psychotic. We played Wii and sobered up for the drive back. He held my hand but didn't make any other moves to hook up with me. He was really, well... Nice. I am not used to this.

On our drive home he texted that it was nice to meet me and told me to thank Elena for bringing him home. So I said you too, blah blah. First thing the next morning I had more texts. Uh oh.

The text was very sweet, but I tend to freak out when people are too nice. He remembered that I was going into the city that night and said hopefully he would be able to see me again. Six hours later, I replied with a generic, thanks talk to you soon. Woops. And then I got no answer. Which is totally one of my pet peeves. Would it have been so hard for me to answer him within an hour? Why was I so turned off by his nice-ness? So he wasn't a dead ringer for Channing Tatum. Few men are, right? No one's perfect. Neither am I, but I like to think I come close. I also tell myself that I am not that friendly or kind, and have a hard time believing others can be so genuinely nice. He did seem interested though. Very interested. I'm willing to have a little fun, so why not just give it a shot?

With Elena's voice in my head and figuring that he might be willing to take me on a date, I bravely texted him Sunday night. Within 30 seconds he responded, but I then told him I was headed to bed. He said the same. That was that. Let's see if The Nice Guy is into The Single Friend.

The Cock Blocks

I enjoy going out in a co-ed group nearly as much as I love going out with the girls. Unfortunately, the presence of boys seems to prove a double-edged sword.

On one hand, the creeps tend to stay away. Or if they do approach, it is easy to pretend that one of my platonic relationships is quite the opposite.

On the other hand, the hottie across the bar may think twice about coming over or offering to buy me a drink. If it's true that guys fear rejection as much as we do, why risk it when I'm surrounded by guys? I can't say I'd blame him for it. It's obvious why this cock-blocking occurs. But I hate to think that someone worthwhile has passed by simply because I was chatting with my guy friend rather than girl friend. I also like to think that you can usually tell when two people are a couple versus just friends. The way she eyes him, how he places his hand on her back or just the way they look together. Not that this is always true. It's just kind of annoying that from the outside, your best friend can look more like your boyfriend. And thus repel that sexy guy across the bar.

The Name Game: Epilogue

Remember that time I got called the wrong name the day after what I'd hoped would be a one night stand?

Once again, he has come back to haunt me.

I was walking from one bar to another on Saturday night, when Joanie called. I excitedly answered the phone and tried to catch up with her. This lasted all of thirty seconds until she informed me that someone wanted to talk to me. I for the life of me could not imagine who it was, except for maybe her boyfriend.

Instead, the voice said it was him. Great in bed, not so great with names. He started making small talk with me, asking me what I was up to these days. I tried to avoid the questions and referenced the weather rather than acknowledge the fact that he has been poking me on Facebook for the past few months. I quickly ended the phone call when I got into the bar. But I was left somewhat perturbed (sorry, Joanie) that this kid was still trying to reach out to me. What's done is done, after all. The poking I find somewhat amusing (and I have not poked back since this phone call) but why must he make this attempt at contact and act like we were friends? We hooked up. Once. That's all. Was it seeing Joanie that he was reminded of me? Did he bring up this ingenious idea to call me? I would have never answered had I known Joanie would hand off the phone to this kid. Next time I attempt a one night stand, I'm going to make sure he is a total stranger.

The Emo One

My friend Filomena is, admittedly, a pimpette. She attracts guys easily and usually manages to reel in a few at a time. She has recently had a problem with guys who get attached. Too quickly, too much and too often. They want to talk about feelings and other nonsense that she's just not interested in.

One recent example of her many emotional hook-ups was a guy, let's call him "Westchester". Filomena and Westchester started hooking up and all was going pretty well. She took him to a sorority formal and they talked daily during Christmas break, even spending New Year's Eve together. Filomena was having a good time. She genuinely liked Westchester most of the time. Upon returning to school, she got busy with other things and got bored with him. So she gradually stopped talking to him and moved onto bigger and better things.

Westchester apparently was not bored with the situation. And he began whining to Filomena that she was too busy for him and how upset he was when she didn't call him for a couple of days at a time. He'd say "you don't like me" and "you found another guy", and all sorts of things she didn't care to hear. Filomena was unruffled by this and continued on with her life. But why are some guys just so emotional?

Isn't the stereotype that girls are emotional and needy, and that guys are the ones that are just in it for the hook-up? What is wrong with these guys that they get so attached? Is Filomena special? (I think so) Or are some guys just overly emotional and needy, while many of us girls are not? If they were just hooking up, is it so hard for him to understand her moving on? Or was he more hurt by the fact that she ditched him before he had a chance to? Did he like her that much or was it just a blow to the ego that got him down? And since when was this role-reversal becoming so common? Is this emo-evolution or what?

The Sexy Salesman

One day, Korey and I went out to lunch then blew a couple hours shopping and doing various other errands. I have recently been hunting for the perfect rain jacket, so we went into a store that sells The North Face and other outdoorsy gear. Not exactly my type of store.

Fortunately, after looking around confused, the man behind the counter asked us if we wanted help. Korey and I looked at each other, and I attempted to describe to him what type of rain jacket (since apparently there are many) I was looking for. He had shaggy dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and was incredibly knowledgeable when it came to dressing for the weather. His suggestion to layer for warmth when it was cold and rainy was incredibly profound. I nodded my head, staring at those eyes just wondering how one could be so articulate when it came to jackets.

After he finished describing my options to me, I was still not convinced enough to drop $200 on a thin piece of nylon. What I really wanted to do was make polite small talk and ask him if he was from the area or whether he was a student at an area university. And perhaps if he wanted to have dinner?

Instead Korey and I said thank you and went on our way, mesmerized by this beautiful creature.

What I am most disappointed in is not my lack of rain gear, but that I was too shy? Awkward? Stupid? To steer the conversation away from rain shells to the salesman himself. Why is it, that when already mid conversation, I have such a hard time thinking of something witty and creative to say? This was a perfect opportunity, after all. I just lack the ability to move the conversation from something so generic and impersonal to something deeper. I guess I will have to try to be more friendly and act more interested. And go back to that store.

Too Slow?

Friday night I ran into someone I used to lifeguard with and recently begun seeing again at the gym. Since I have pretty much stopped working out (except for a few rare Saturdays), I don't see him anymore. One time over the summer, he asked for my number because we both returned home after college and he claimed he was always looking for friends in the area.

We had the normal five to ten minutes of small talk, until I spotted someone else and ran to say hi. I carried on business as usual, chatting it up with our crew and sipping on my vodka tonic.

I was surprised when my former co-worker came up to me to say something. He said, "All the cool kids are going to Barcelona", but since it was super loud I asked him to repeat himself not once but twice. It also took me an extra moment to realize he was not talking about the city in Spain but the bar around the corner. So rather than pretend I'd stop by there later or continue the conversation, I said something along the lines of "Cool, see ya". Whoops.

Perhaps he was just being nice, but he did go out of his way to say bye and inform me that he was leaving. I think I was caught off guard (and obviously zoning out a bit), but part of me wants to think maybe he wanted to keep hanging out. He is pretty quiet. And he did suggest he might even call me few months before. I may be reading into this too much, because maybe he was just being polite. But I think I may have to start working out more to increase my odds of running into him again.

Too Pretty?

At a recent family gathering, I got asked the infamous "Do you have a boyfriend?" many times over. And of course the answer is always one of a few different cliches.

Nope. Not right now. I don't have time. I'm focusing on work. Blah, blah, blah.

But this particular time, a cousin or whoever told me "You're too pretty to have a boyfriend".

What? When I told Korey this, she said "What does that even mean?"

Not sure. What does that mean? If I was a dead-ringer for Gisele Bundchen, I would understand this statement. But I do not think being slightly above-average really qualifies me as too pretty to have a boyfriend. Is it just because my relatives have run out of other reassurances when my answer to the perpetual question is no? Or perhaps they genuinely think I'm too pretty (Clearly they don't get out much). I don't think I am single solely because of my looks. Although somewhat complimenatry, this comment made me feel no better or worse about my current relationship status. Oh well.

The Not-Date Date?

My friend Janelle is popular and keeps in contact with a lot of friends from high school and beyond. She has recently been texting back and forth with a male friend who broke his foot and laid up for a couple weeks. They have never hooked up, but he knows she thinks he's cute. And the last time they hung out, he was showing her some special attention. Unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend showed, and Broken Foot later saw them make out. No matter. Upon finding out she would be home, he said he would hop on his crutches and go out. And possibly even drive himself to see her.

This male friend is sexy. Former star athlete, good looking and nice on top of it all. He asked Janelle what she had in mind for their holiday weekend rendezvous, so she said "Anything!". He said they could work on details later in the week. Unfortunately, Janelle is now unsure of what to expect. Is this a date? Dinner and drinks? Or will they just be meeting up at the bar like usual?

I told Janelle to see what happens closer. Figuring out what time they're going to meet up would be key, as that might indicate whether or not they might share a meal. And if he says, "see you at 10:30" that will probably be the signal for Janelle to invite along a few friends. But how does she know? Should she press the issue at all? Probably not, because we don't want to pressure the poor gimp. But she feels like there's something there, and that it wouldn't be outrageous to think maybe they could go on a real date. Maybe it's too premature to decide. But we'll find out soon enough!

The Touchers

This weekend I went out with my friend Janelle. A fellow Single Friend, we put on our best weekend attire, took a few shots, and prepared ourselves for potential suitors. Unfortunately, there was no one we thought was worthy of us. But we were social nonetheless.

On Friday night, we encountered a reasonably attractive guy named Joe. Janelle and I decided I would go for him. We introduced ourselves and after meeting me, his hand lingered on my love handle. Hmm. I asked Janelle if he did the same to her and she said no. We ran into him again at the second bar and we chatted for a bit. He once again let his hands linger on my hips and my arm, and assured me we would see each other the following night. We did not. But I was confused as to why he was touching me but failed to ask for my number.

Saturday night, we ended up at the same bar as the night before. Dressed to the nines after a cocktail party, we stood out in a great way (looking better than everyone of course). We like to make the rounds at the bar to check out our fellow patrons and see who we know. While doing so, I kept seeing the same guy in a striped shirt. As I strutted by, he touched my hands and almost held onto them. We walked by each other a few more times. He pinched my arm and put his hand on my waist, but failed at any attempt to make conversation. Was he validating that I looked really hot? Maybe. But why do this little touching thing if he wasn't going to initiate anything else?

I guess it's nice to know that I was touch-able. But I like to think I'm physically attractive, especially compared to some of the girls at the bars in our hometown. Janelle and I are pretty damn hot. I just don't understand why I was essentially felt up but barely asked my name. I would have been okay with a super cheesy pickup line had Striped Shirt tried to talk to me. But the groping? Weird.

The Beggar

One night, my friend Karlene and I ventured to the far-away land of Hoboken, New Jersey. There we met up with a group of kids from college. Some, like Lorraine and Callie, we knew well but most of the guys were acquaintances we had seen around but that was about it.

After a few too many dollar drafts, I ran out of cash and had to figure out a way to get myself a beer. One of the guys from school started telling me I had a great ass (which I obviously already knew) and I quickly realized it would be easy to get him to buy me a drink. I wasn't very into him, but I knew I could weasel a few more beers out of him and the compliments weren't so bad. After all, who doesn't like to be told how hot they are over and over again?

The bar closed and we all returned to Lorraine's apartment for the after party. I remember starting to pass out, and then Karlene informed me we were going home. Phew. Unfortunately, "Tony" (whose name I learned from Callie) said he was coming with us. And his friend was going to tag along with Karlene's roommate. What? I do not recall inviting him. Or giving him any indication that this would go beyond a drink and some dancing.

A Path train and a cab ride later, we arrived back at Karlene's. She went to bed with her boyfriend, her roommate took the friend to her room, and I was stuck alone in the living room with Tony. Uh oh. Tired, in desperate need of a Brazilian, and completely not interested in Tony, I attempted to turn over and pass out. Tony wasn't having this. He continued with the compliments from earlier on, telling me how hot I was and how badly he wanted to hook up with me. I kept refusing. And maybe teasing him just a bit by making out with him. But I also had previously decided I was turning over a new leaf, and no longer sleeping with guys after one drunken night. Tony would not hear of this. He insisted that since he didn't know me before my new leaf, I should disregard this idea. I told him this was not my problem.

Undefeated, the begging continued. Tony said he only came back with me "so we could f---". I'm sorry Tony, when did I extend an invitation? At this point I was getting irritated and just wanted him to shut up. So rather than pretend to pass out, I idiotically decided to shut him up by giving him a BJ. The blabbering on and begging did not cease. He wanted to take my pants off (Nope!) and then told me how great I was at doing the job I was doing. I later attributed my "skills" to the fact that he was, for lack of a better word, small. After what seemed like forever, I decided I was over his small-ness and far too sober to keep going. So I stopped and turned over. Tony still did not stop begging and whined that his balls were blue and that I should keep going and blah, blah, blah. I did not give in and finally passed out.

A few hours later I was awoken by light streaming into the living room and two male voices. I felt Tony stir next to me, and heard his friend say something about leaving. I pretended I was still sleeping until I heard the apartment door slam behind them. Hopefully gone and never to be heard from again.

Until about three months later when Tony friended me on Facebook.

The First Impression

When I went to visit Rhonda and Korey, Rhonda's friend Willa invited a number of friends (guys and girls) and to pregame with us. When I came downstairs after my standard two hours of primping, I caught a very cute guy in a blue polo checking me out.

We played flip cup, and Blue Polo was unfortunately at the other end of the table. I tried to show off my incredible talent at this game, but I seemed to have gotten rusty since my glory days at frat parties. I chatted it up with some of the others at Rhonda and Korey's until Korey and I left to go to the bar.

While up at the bar waiting on my 2nd vodka tonic, Blue Polo and some of the other guys from the pregame were right next to me. Perfect opportunity to chat it up. I said hello and learned his name but tried not to pay special attention to him. I went back to chat with my friends and dance, but it wasn't long before I was chatting with him again. He was super nice and responsive. YES!

And then I woke up, fully clothed and dying of thirst. No, this was not a dream about Blue Polo. I once again completely blacked out at the bar. I would like to blame it on the flip cup and the lack of a substantial dinner. No matter now, but why do I always seem to ruin my image with getting completely trashed? This is not to say I expected Blue Polo to become my boyfriend after one night. And it's unlikely I'll ever see him again. But if I do, I'm sure he'll remember me as the Totally Drunk Girl. What a first impression! I mean, some of my friends have tried to assure me that everyone else was wasted, too. But Korey told me I got pretty clingy later on (which is very likely considering my normal drunken behavior) and he tried to run away, only to be chased by me again. I almost feel bad for him for having to even meet me. I like to think Blackout SingleFriend is not very much like Sober SingleFriend. I'd hope that any logical person can understand that I am not always a clingy drunk.

But first impressions do mean a lot and I guess I pretty much killed even making Blue Polo my friend. If the shoe was on the other foot, I probably would have run away from me, too. I just wonder sometimes why we put such weight on the first impression. Is it subconscious? Because how can you judge someone based soley on a first meeting? I don't really understand. Although I guess I often form an opinion after one meeting, so I can't say it's wrong. It just seems like it's a little crazy and a lot of pressure.