A woman I’ll call The Chewer (it’ll make sense soon) and I first messaged each other shortly after things ended with The Teacher over a two months ago. We hit it off as she was about to relocate to my town, and had attended the same university. We decided to meet for drinks after she finally moved up and got settled in. Before we got to that point though, I started going out with a few other women and wanted to see where these potential relationships went. I messaged The Chewer and she thanked me for my honesty and I went about my way.
As it turned out, most of these dates were ho-hum and never amounted to much of anything. I did briefly hit it off with The Marathoner but that ended as quickly as it started. So, my schedule suddenly freed up, I decided to message The Chewer to see if she was still interested in getting a drink. She was so we planned to meet after work two weeks ago (shortly before I went out with The Lawyer). Keep reading »
Life is full of surprises: maybe you get pregnant without trying, win the lottery, find faith or cheat death. Other times, it’s the small, simple unexpectancies (I’m aware that “unexpectancies” isn’t a real word, but it should be) that make all the difference. Over the last few weeks, Baby Face has been my pleasant “unexpectancy.”
Having reconnected after five (or is it six?) years without a trace of contact, Baby Face and I have been spending a lot of time catching up, becoming reacquainted and starting back at square one. A lot has changed since our reckless beer-funneling college days, and not just because we’ve graduated to fancy craft beer and real glassware. Back in the day, Baby Face and I were friends, but we were never confess-your-deepest-secrets, share-your-embarrassing-stories kinds of friends. Last week, I was able to see Baby Face twice—once for lunch in the city and once for dinner and drinks at my place, where we were able to really talk and get to know each other, sweatpants on, makeup off and all. Keep reading »
Excuse me while I wander around the lovely landscape of cloud nine, because I had the best sex of my life this weekend and I’m still up here enjoying the high.
So, let’s bring it back a week. After my grandma passed away, my communications with Baby Face became more and more frequent. Before our date/catchup/death dinner we’d text each other a few times a day to flirt and shoot the shit, but since then things have certainly accelerated. We chat in the morning on our commutes in to work, briefly throughout the day via text, and almost always in the evening before bed (sometimes there’s even an actual phone call, which I love). Mid-last week, Baby Face asked me if I wanted to go out with him and a couple of our old college friends on Friday night after work, but I’d already made plans with some of my girlfriends. We decided to compromise and hang out with our respective pals individually, and then meet up later in the night, with or without the others. Keep reading »
They come few and far between but we all have them. You know, those first dates that make you think, Wow, is this the one? I had one of these dates last Tuesday with The Lawyer.
We met at my favorite watering hole and jazz club for drinks. We arrived at exactly the same time, an obvious omen of good things to come. Continuing on the good omen train, while looking over the wine menu, we found out that Malbecs are our favorite type of wine. Keep reading »
Unfortunately, I’m becoming a professional at going on great dates that have awful endings. There was my first date with Scar Twin, which went off without a hitch until I fell down a flight of stairs; my first (and last) date with Jack, who wrapped up our evening by insinuating that I’m a slut; and most recently, my great — and also tragic — date with my old college friend Baby Face. Confirmed: Tears do not taste good in dirty martinis. Keep reading »