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.