Rejection Tango

Cornell and I (yep, same one) have kept in touch on and off over the last few months. We randomly would text each other, and even met up once. I even drunkenly texted him while out with the Accountant (more on him later). He usually ends up asking me to come over, and I politely decline and ask he text me before 9 pm. Even though I'm clearly a piece of ass not worth seeing in daylight, a few weeks later I try, try again!

Crazy? Yeah, probably. And totally not a "me" thing to do. Usually, I figure if he's interested he'll make some sort of effort to hang out. And if not, screw it. I move on.

But for some reason, I can't get him out of my head.

I attribute this to the immediate feeling of comfort I got with him. We had an easy dynamic, a rhythm. Wacky as it may sound, I just felt like we were on the same wavelength. When Seraphina met him, she noticed that we had "the same" sense of humor. Whether or not this is the case, I'm sure he doesn't think I'm anyone special. When I told him I couldn't be his booty call, he said he wanted to be friends. I can work with that...and obviously show him how fabulous I am!

That lasted maybe a week or so at best. Despite the drunken lines in feeds me (which he claims are not lines) and his quick responsiveness when I text, he's made it pretty clear I'm not worth his time. He often claims he wants to hang out and was 'going to text me but forgot' or will continue a conversation after I've stopped responding.

I've tried deleting his number so I do not have the option of texting him, but I cannot bring myself to do so.

During our most recent texting fest, he was obviously trying to convince me to go to his apartment. And made reference to that fateful night where we apparently (must have?) hooked up. He said he "had a great time the night you slept over".

Ughh. I was hoping we could just put that behind us? It was months ago after all.

I must have just been unforgettable.

So, rather than agree that I had a great time as well, I decided to do what I do best. Be honest. I told him that night was fuzzy and I think he has the wrong idea about me. Of course he shot back with some nonsense that he knows I'm a "sweet" girl and he doesn't have the wrong idea, but really wished I'd go over. He also said I was dodging him and he'd wanted to hang out for a while. I tried telling him that I'm not dodging him at 3 am.

Essentially, we got nowhere. I was happy to (drunkenly) tell him that evening at his apartment was fuzzy. Even if it didn't sink in.

So the next morning, he apologized for asking me to go over so many times the night before.

I told him no worries and that was that.

That was maybe two weeks ago. I resisted texting him...

UNTIL I HEARD HE'S QUITTING HIS JOB AT THE VERY COMPANY WHERE WE MET! AND MOVING TO THE CITY!

Guess I'll really never see him again.

Against Korey's advice, upon hearing this news, I texted him. Of course. I told him I'd heard he quit and bid him good luck. He said some BS and we went back and forth. I eventually passed out, and woke up to a text that said we should get a drink before he leaves town. I responded (dumbass Single Friend) that I'd be down even though we always say we're gonna meet up blah, blah. He said we'd figure it out. I told him I wouldn't hold my breath. He said I was harsh. I said I was not harsh, just saying. And if he ever wanted to get that drink to let me know.

And that was that. Strangely, I feel relieved. If we couldn't meet up here, there's no way it will happen after he moves. Maybe now I can actually delete his number, knowing the odds are much slimmer that we'll ever encounter each other on purpose or by accident. It was obvious all along that he didn't want to be friends, and just saw me as easy. Maybe he liked me for a day or six. But he got what he wanted. And moved on.

Why can't I?

The Work Crush

I recently got a new job. Before I started, I told myself this would be a career move and I would not be distracted by the hundreds of sexy bankers in my building.

The girl I'd be replacing gave me a brief orientation, and I met some of the team members. Including the twenty-something who'd be my new neighbor (as in directly to the left of me!). He stood up, smiled big, and enthusiastically shook my hand.

A few days later, I took over at my spiffy new desk on a 900-person trading floor. I was unfortunately without computer log on information, so I diligently observed my coworker, Avery (who sits to my right). And I began chatting up that incredibly cute neighbor on my left.

I found out in our many conversations that he'd played hockey at Yale and was from outside of Boston. We had a lot in common and frequently discussed the bar scene at our respective colleges. I quickly realized that aside from some very nicely shaped buns, he was funny and carried with him lots of random facts.

Uh oh.

Soon after IT got my computer up and running, Yale asked for some assistance. I jumped at the opportunity to a) help him and b) attempt to prove myself. While explaining a project, he leaned over me, grabbing my mouse to demonstrate where to click.

I pictured the 898 people around us clearing out immediately so I could have my way with him.

The days went on. We reminisced about college, exchanged stories of the weekend, and commiserated over dried-out contact lenses.

While on our way to happy hour one evening, Avery, my boss, and our fourth admin team member pointed out to me that Yale would be perfect for me. Avery heard our day to day banter, and assured me that he liked me. She even said that prior to my arrival, he was often quiet and hadn't talked to many people as much as he talked to me. I laughed it off and said yes, I'd be interested but thought the girls were perhaps reading into him too much. I thought he was just chatting. Was I making a weak attempt to be career oriented?

A few weeks into our gig, Yale got a seating upgrade and moved a few rows over to more prime real estate. How would I make excuses interact with him now?

Luckily, I didn't have to. Whenever he needed an admin task taken care of, he popped right over. He always replied to my standard e-mail messages with an enthusiastic Thank you! Or even a clever conversation starter. During one of his standard visits, my coworker joked with me via IM that my 'boyfriend was standing behind me'. I responded with a 'lol' and said that if he was in fact interested, he could do something about it. Always wise, she then told me he's probably afraid since employees aren't allowed to date within their department.

Of course. Why did I think I'd have a shot?

Oddly enough, this newest Ivy League work crush was beginning to freakishly remind me of my previous crush on Cornell. I had a reason to look fabulous and someone to look forward to seeing everyday. Though with Yale, it was more friendly than flirty (plus we've yet to have an opportunity to openly flirt without numerous people listening). Despite how cute Yale is and how much I enjoy our exchanges, I'm beginning to wonder if these work crushes develop for a different reason than their utter adorableness.

A Glamour article I read discussed how many of us go for unavailable guys. Have I developed these crushes on coworkers because I know (somewhere in the back of my mind) that the odds of a work crush, even a mutual one, leading to anything beyond just a crush are slim to none? Does toying with the idea of what could be actually garner more excitement than if I had a real shot with this guy? Since thinking about it, I tell myself not to bother even trying to flirt with Yale. Really what's the point? We talk about our weekends and I walk (strut) away, trying not to linger for too long.

But then he'll take an unexpected stroll over to my desk to "check on" the project I'm doing for him. Or walk into the kitchen just seconds after I do. Or e-mail me with a question that could have easily waited until Monday. Excuses to say hi? Not sure. But I can't even pretend I'm not crushing when I find my fingers twisting my ponytail and an unusually girlish giggle coming out of me. Whether it's because he's a great guy or because he's unavailable, I don't know. But for now, at least he can brighten up a boring work day.

Tradition Turns... Sloppy

Remember last year when at our area Saint Paddy's Day Parade I got hammered and hooked up in a hotel lobby?

This year, inclement weather kept us from wandering too much, and we remained in the same bar for hours on end. We started drinking around 11 am and I guzzled beer after beer. Pacing myself? Not an option for this event.

Needless to say, by early afternoon I had developed a buzz and was feelin' pretty good. The bar was beginning to get crowded and I was running into acquaintance after acquaintance. After all my friends had gathered, we took our traditional car bombs. When Belinda couldn't finish hers, she gave it to me.

Uh oh.

My hand never void of a beer, I danced around like my usual self. Though drunk, I was also on a natural high since I was so excited that all my close friends were together for this annual event. Always on the prowl, I decided it was necessary to find someone nearby to make out with. Though the guy I was sort of seeing was in the other room of the bar, he wasn't doing it for me that day. Instead, I began getting touchy with one of the guys from our crew. This member of our crew, Marty, happened to be a guy I dated in high school for all of two weeks.

The rest of the afternoon is a bit fuzzy, and I ended up going to that guy I was seeing's apartment for a drunken rendezvous. Definitely nowhere near Marty.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I'd gotten hit by a train. And while riding said train to work, Janelle informed me that I had made out with Marty.

I suddenly had a moment of clarity.

I looked at my cell phone and saw the outgoing text I was dreading.

"Sex?", sent to Marty at approximately 4:23 pm.

I deleted it, hoping that if it was erased from my phone maybe it'd be erased from memory as well.

Alright so, drunken me made a text proposition. To a guy I had no interest in, unless I had +/- 10 drinks in my system. Who I see frequently. And I was probably within three feet of him when I pressed send.

At least I was direct with my proposal.

I tried to forget, and luckily have yet to have any awkward encounters with Marty. And the girls have reassured me that he was probably just as drunk as I was. Phew. Maybe he forgot he ever recieved it. Even better, maybe he'd never gotten it!

Weeks later, I had moved on from the whole incident. That is until Porter made reference to my erased text.

Another parade day I'll just never live down.

The Dating Dilemma

My cousin is getting married in a few weeks. Tonight, I am forced to miss three of my good friends' joint birthday party to prepare for tomorrow's shower. Heaven forbid I show up to the shower with the unpleasant grimace of a hangover.

In any case, I suppose I'll just celebrate with the girls another night. But I, at age 23.5, am invited under the umbrella of my parents. And while I'm happy about not having to purchase gifts on my own limited funds, this also eliminates any possibility of bringing a date.

Fret not, there's no one I have an interest in taking. In fact, I thought intensely about who I would bring should I have the option. Would I really like to bring a guy around my ENTIRE extended family? Especially one who isn't my boyfriend? Or unlikely ever going to become my boyfriend? And then bear the questions about him for months (if not years) to come? Unlikely. But what if I did have someone in mind, and didn't have the option to take him. Even if I thought he could handle a bunch of wacky drunks, would I want to bear the thought of answering endless questions? I don't know. But I guess I won't have to worry about it, either.