Maybe In A Few Years?

I recently ran into one of my guy friends. Shortly after we started catching up, he started asking me when we were getting married and when I was having his babies. I laughed this off and went along with it, thinking he was just being silly. When he met up with my friends and me this weekend, he started saying the same thing as soon as he saw me. I once again laughed it off and went along with it, but the following morning I pondered why my friend finds this premature proposal so amusing.

Part of me thinks this is just a playful flirtation with no deeper meaning. This part is probably right.

But the overly analytical part of me thinks that perhaps my friend may actually want to date me sometime in the future. Clearly talks of marriage are out of the question. But I can only hope that in a few years, something will happen. I never thought of him as someone I'd like to date, but maybe he doesn't feel the same. He's a nice guy and we have a great time together. He made it a point to tell me how well he treats girls. I could easily be one of them, right?

I am, most likely, reading into this far too deeply. Except I like that little glimmer of hope for the future.

That Special Spark

My friend Janelle has been casually talking to a guy from work. He has essentially confessed his love to her and she says he looks at her like she is the only woman in the room. He unfortunately has a girlfriend, but she says that have a remarkable sexual attraction to each other. This alleged girlfriend has also not stopped him from pursuing her for coffee dates or make outs at the bar. There is just something there neither of them can describe.

I recently met a tall, dark and handsome fellow. He was by no means Brad Pitt, but for some reason I was drawn to him. It could have been his preppy ensemble, consisting of ribbon belt, pink shirt, khakis, and loafers, but I think there was something else. We hit it off immediately and spent the rest of the night tearing up the dance floor. Even after the lights turned on, we continued to chat up a storm and even shared a few pecks here and there. We exchanged numbers and he has often popped into my head since that night. But what is it that made him so much better than the others?

The only thing I can attribute the magnetism to is chemistry. That spark. The inexplicable attraction to the opposite sex. There is something that sets this guy apart from the rest. And I must admit, it's an amazing thing to find. If we can. Whether it's great sex or great conversation, is it so wrong to want to wait for it? Why settle for someone when the kissing is just alright or the conversation forced? I refuse to. If I can find someone who complements me in such a way that I can't get him out of my head, I'd much prefer that over settling for someone who's good to keep around because he pays for dinner. And if Janelle and her Coffee Boy have such an attraction, why let the girlfriend keep him away? No, chemistry doesn't justify cheating. But maybe it's not cheating, it's a twist of fate.

The Power of Scent

You often hear about how scent can drive a man wild. Or how certain smells unconsciously trigger memories and sentiments in our brains. Under normal circumstances, I would find this to be a crock of you-know-what.

Except for this one man at work, let's call him DBD. He is a straight up Douche Bag, and is one of those senior-level employees who makes my life a living hell. He is cruel and belittling among other things. But there is one thing about DBD I cannot help but love.

His smell.

When I step into his office, my nose is overpowered by a glorious scent. My attitude and bitterness subside somewhat. My olfactory sense is so overtaken that a man I despise, whose every e-mail I dread and phone call I run from, suddenly isn't so bad. This is incredible.

In turn, I am compelled to question what other powers scent has with attraction. If this smell can make an absolute a-hole seem like less of a DB, then what about that average looking guy at the bar? Or that somewhat nerdy guy who's always after you? Does your scent make you exponentially sexier? Or keep you in the same category? I hope not the latter. Magazines alwas tell you to use a lightly scented shampoo to "turn on your man" and I'm starting to really believe it. If I hate this DB a little bit less from his cologne smell, than smelling fabulous might make the next man I meet weak in the knees. I'm definitely going to make sure to spray on a little extra perfume this weekend.

My Bad?

Remember PCw?

He ended up calling the Wednesday after we met. Conversation was kept short and sweet, and he said Porter told him we'd be going to the bar on Saturday. I told him we were and we decided we'd see each other there. I was getting excited to see what potential PCw had. Moments after we arrived, so did he. I expected he'd bring his friends, but instead he arrived with Port, immediately setting off mental alarms that this was far too much for me to handle.

We talked. He bought my drinks. I even went with him to another bar to see his friend (I was supposed to see one of mine as well but she never showed). Upon returning to the original bar, I was upset that I had left my friends for this kid and wanted to mingle with the crowd. There were new faces and people I hadn't see in a while, and I was forced to entertain this kid I barely knew. Nevermind I was driving and he was trying to feed me shots of Cuervo. It started to get irritating, so I made several incredibly poor attempts to run away. Every time I would go to talk to someone else, SURPRISE! There he was, steps behind me. WHAT THE HELL?

Despite the fact that I was annoyed, I did enjoy the attention and felt bad for the poor kid, following me around like a little puppy (ironically his eyes are also rather puppy dog-like). So I let him put his hands on me and what not but did not allow him to kiss me. Especially not in front of all these people (a few of whom I had an interest in pursuing). He said maybe we could hang out during the week and I reluctantly agreed. Finally, after I kept running and he kept following, the lights turned on to signal last call. My relief was inexplicable.

I made my way outside and said I'd talk to PCw soon. I went to find the people I was chauffeuring home, leaving PCw to linger. And linger he did. While talking to a (decently attractive) friend of a friend, he mentioned he didn't talk to me because he thought "that kid was your boyfriend".

WHAT!?!?!?!?!

I told him that I do not believe in relationships. While this is not entirely true, I knew PCw was within ear shot and hoped that they both understand I am not looking to become The Attached Friend anytime soon.

PCw texted me after we finally parted ways and said he had a great time and that he wanted to hang out soon. Unfortunately, we're going on a week and I have gotten nothing from him. Porter, our mutual friend, has said in the past that I "always eff it up". So have I done it again?

The Awkward One

I once had a rather unsuccessful one night hook up with a fraternity brother. We were flirting then started making out and eventually made our way back to my room. There was touching and feeling and stripping of each others' clothes. We tried to go all the way, but I think jungle juice must have gotten the best of him that night. Eventually I told him there was no point in trying and we returned to the party, which had begun to empty out.

We went our separate ways and acted like nothing had happened, which is not so unusual in the case of such hook ups. I knew I would later encounter him but thought it would make no difference and that communication would be friendly. I even kept this little rendezvous hush hush to avoid the usual gossip surrounding such affairs.

Word got out despite my attempts at being tight-lipped, and my friends often mocked me for this drunken occurrence (clearly not anything new). I laughed it off as usual. But my interactions with this fraternity brother immediately became awkward. We had class together and would occasionally IM each other to mock the teacher. This stopped. He also lived just one building over, and noticed he would no longer say hello with the same enthusiasm as before. If he acknowledged me at all, that is. He'd walk into my friends's room and upon noticing me would be significantly quieter. I acted like all was well, so why couldn't he?

My initial thought is that he was embarassed about his lack of performance ability. Any guy would be, right? At this point I don't even care and he does not even have a notch on my bed post. But the morning after or day after or two week later awkwardness gets to me.

Why are some boys just so damn awkward?

Perhaps they think I regret the night before's antics. Maybe not so far off. But if he thinks he has to wine and dine me to make up for whatever happened, it could not be further from the truth. I do not text him 24/7 (or at all), but does he think I like him? Or that I have become attached after what happened at 4:30 AM? I simply do not understand why going on, business as usual, is so difficult. We hooked up, big deal. We didn't get married in Vegas.

A Public Service Annoucement

As many of you know, the purpose of my blogging is for entertainment value. And for me to ponder the many questions we all have concerning the world of dating. However, I have recently become concerned that The Single Friend has become too closely associated with the real person behind it. For those of you who know my living, breathing human self (and not just the cyber Single Friend), please take this message seriously.

If you are in my physical presence, do not mention the fact that I blog.
If you have questions or story ideas, please refrain from mentioning them anywhere associated with my real name. This includes all references to the fact that I have a blog and what it's called. Direct all inquires to thesinglefriend@gmail.com. Please do not ask me who the pseudonyms real-life people are. And do not bring up specific entries or nicknames in real life either. I am also going to try not to mention anything of the sort either just so it's fair for all of us.

I am not directing this PSA at any reader in particular. In fact, I love that so many people have started raving about The Single Friend. But (in all seriousness) I have started to question whether or not I can remain sane while attempting to blog about such personal topics. I have briefly considered completely deleting this blog altogether. I've found it rather stressful to broadcast such information to the public while fearing the link might fall into the wrong hands. So do me a favor and separate The Single Friend from the real-life person behind it.

The Mysterious Stranger

I check out everyone. I (not always discreetly) find myself giving others the once over and noting their cute shoes or nice eyes in my head. When I see couples or families I like to make up stories about where they might be going. But what I have most recently begun thinking about is how mysterious strangers are so damn sexy sometimes.

I take the train to work and it has proven the perfect place for checking out hot men, primarily in the over-30 age range. Usually adding to the sex appeal is the fact that these men are definitely employed at reasonable jobs, and are wearing sexy business attire. There is one man I see (literally) every day on my trains both to and from work. He is well dressed, maybe 35 with beautiful green eyes and a very nice physique. If his ring is any indication, he is (like many of them are) married. (Side Note: Since I begun commuting, I find myself glancing at most every man's left hand). He is very fun to look at, and I often wonder where it is he goes to work after that tedious train ride.

The best part about these sexy strangers is that I know the chance of me ever doing something so crazy as to talk to them is basically zero. Yes, I suppose I could make a comment about the weather or the timeliness of the train. But I much prefer staring. Every Day guy is very fun to look at, but I had the unfortunate experience of actually hearing him talk. His voice was rather high pitched and goofy and did not go with his look. He has now lost a considerable amount of mystery and therefore even more appeal.

Another thing about these people I so often check out is that if that little crush-from-afar is ever realized, it is never half as good as the day dreams. There were lots of kids in my classes and such who I had a mini-crush on, simply because they had some sort of weird appeal. And whenever I had the opportunity to talk to (or sometimes make out with) them, it was incredibly disappointing. Once the mystery fades, it seems that the real thing can never be as good as the fantasy. I'll just keep staring for now.

Wise Words

“I am totally confident that I am an incredible artist and performer. I am extremely confident about my body, the way I dress, the way I want to look. But I have no confidence when it comes to men. Men are a disaster area for me. It’s so weird because I believe I am super sexy. I believe I am incredible, but I have absolutely no luck with boyfriends.” -Lady GaGa

Truth.

Name Tag Night

My best guy friend, let's call him Porter, invited me to attend a "Singles Happy Hour" with some of his coworkers last Friday. I was not only apprehensive, but I do not think I am pathetic enough to have to attend such an event. But I'd had another boring day at the office and could use a beer. Besides, I always have a good time with Port.

Far too overwhelmed to walk in alone, I forced Port to meet me outside. We walked in and he, being very politician like, introduced me around. I met the organizer, Elaine, who proved to be quite a riot, as well as various other Singles. Much to mine and Elaine's dismay, no one caught my eye. But I sipped my beer (on Port's tab) and talked about the newly warm weather and other equally exciting topics. A bit later, Port introduced me to his coworker, who apparently shares some acquaintances with Port and me. The three of us talked for a while and had quite a few laughs. Porter then conveniently wandered off, leaving me and Port's Coworker (PCw) to chat alone. I found him pretty funny and there were no awkward or uncomfortable moments. I then left to pick up Karlene who was coming up for the weekend, and we said goodbye and nice to meet you.

Karlene decided she also needed a beer after an hour and a half on the train, so rather then head home I dragged her back to happy hour. Karlene has a serious boyfriend and was therefore dubbed by Elaine a fellow "Committed Connector". This being a mixer of sorts, most attendees were wearing name tags. I hate name tags. I (and PCw and I discussed this) usually put them somewhere on my body that is nowhere near my chest (my preferred spot is usually somewhere around my filet mignon ass). The second time around, I was unable to avoid this name tag game. Karlene was given a red name tag to demonstrate her relationship status, whereas us single folk were given blue as a go-ahead.

These silly name tags became a bit of a game for those of us at the bar. And don't think PCw kept himself away for too long. After covering the logo on my Bud Light with "My Name is ____", it was easy for us to pick up where we left off. A few more people had come and gone, and there were more introductions. Surprisingly, the once awkward mingling was becoming much more comfortable. Strangers were now pairing off in different areas of the bar, and the crowd began to thin. I soon became bored and realized it was far past my usual dinner time, so Karlene and I decided to head out. While standing with her, PCw, and some randoms, I said "My work here is done". PCw laughed and said, "No it's not. You haven't given me your number yet". So I politely obliged. Stay tuned for part two.

Scummy?

Prior to letting a frat boy swipe my v-card, I was the girl who did "everything but". I was willing to make out with just about anyone. Literally. I even kept a running list of my make out partners, until my half-sheet of paper was too full and I had an "exclusive" hook-up arrangement. While I enjoyed every minute, I never thought my many make outs would earn me a reputation. Even if the majority were public.

My friend Aurelia reminds me a lot of my early-life-in-college self. She is quite the make out bandit, choosing her many victims at various campus gatherings. She does not do "everything but" which I give her a lot of credit for. But Aurelia recently told me something I found both surprising and intriguing.

Two frat boys called her "Scummy".

Scummy?

Aurelia refrains from (most) below the belt activity. What would possibly make her scummy? Perhaps it was that Aurelia has chosen many of her make out partners from the same frat these boys are in. But Aurelia is one of the girls furthest from scummy I know, leaving me to wonder what frat boys thought about me. Or my even more promiscuous friends.