Monday, May 5, 2008

Back into the Wild

The past couple of days I've felt free - free to move on with my life and, more importantly, place myself back on the market. While I've actually been single for about six months, continuing to live with your ex-boyfriend isn't exactly the best pick up line. Of course, living with your parents doesn't exactly make the boys swoon either, but it's a step up...
While I'm still wounded and probably will be for a while along with being horribly rusty with dating (yeah, I have no game) I'm still ready to go back into the wild and see what's out there...and this past weekend, I saw what was out there.
My friend Kate is the godmother of our other friend Shaunna and her soon-to-be husband Andrew's son and when the couple had a baptism party for the baby, I was invited to help make a dent in the massive amounts of barbeque they ordered. That's when I met the baby's godfather and decided he was fairly good looking, funny, charming - all that good first impression stuff you look for. Plus, he was a successful lawyer and little bit older - early 30s. I thought maybe this age/occupation difference would make him different than most of the men I meet in their 20s.
Rule No. 1 of Back into the Wild Dating: Age and often times occupation, in regards to men, don't mean shit.
I asked Kate about him around the same time he asked Andrew about me and when Shaunna and Andrew decided to have another party for the Kentucky Derby last weekend, everyone decided to play matchmaker.
Everything seemed normal at first - still nice, still charming - though the 65 mint julips were starting to show on his face. By the time I had to leave later in the evening to cover an event for work, he was starting to slip into a sugar and whiskey induced stupor.
I returned two hours later to find that Mr. Mint Julip had switched to beer and had easily guzzled close to 30 Miller Lites. Now, I'm pretty much a party girl. I've been known to get pretty shitcanned wasted from time to time and drink more than one too many beers - even bonging one or two or four while standing in the bathtub to avoid dripping on the carpet - who said beer bonging is only a summer sport? Anyway, I'm talking lots of drunk fun, but 30 beers? Really? I'd rather remain in decent control of basic skills, such as, I don't know, talking perhaps? And, I'd also rather avoid having my stomach pumped.
The two of us ended up outside talking, or attempting to talk, which involved him asking me the same question over and over again and him sitting there for 10 minutes trying to remember the name of a movie that I could give two shits about. Then, after sitting silent for a few moments, he turns and says, "hey, wanna make out? Cuz I do."
Excuse me, what? I thought we were both over the age of 16. Wow, I thought at age 25 I wouldn't have to deal with shit like this anymore. I would like to commend you lawyer man for making me realize that anything is possible.
After telling Kate and Shaunna about my oh-so-tempting proposition, and hearing all the "oh, he's just drunk" excuses, we head downstairs to avoid waking up the baby and, sure enough, I mysteriously end up alone with drunk ass. This time he skips the asking and just goes straight into trying to eat my face and grope my boobs.
No, seriously, did I unknowingly fall into a time warp?
I narrowly escape, but have this strange feeling I will have the pleasure of seeing him again. Damn godfather...
Rule No. 2 of Back into the Wild Dating: There will be many more disappointing surprises than pleasant ones, but you mustn't get discouraged.
And now, back into the wild...

No comments:

 

View my page on Twenty Something Bloggers