(Oh, and I wonder, am I the only one whose skin clears up after being with a man? There must be a scientific explanation involving hormones and/or bodily secretions that accounts for this dermatological benefit. I'm kind of surprised no pharmaceutical or cosmetics hasn't cashed in yet.)
Anyway, as free-wheeling as I may be about the sex thing, when I sleep with someone I like, someone I believe has potential, I can't help but get attached. You'd think I'd learn by now, but I am a slave to those pheromones. In dealing with the aftermath, there are a couple of things that can be done: go out, have a blast, and meet new people or languish in When's-He-Gonna-Call Land. Or, if you're an ambitious little multi-tasker like myself, you can do both!
Saturday, I had plans to meet some friends at a bar where the drinks are cheap, the bartenders hot, and dancing on the bar is allowed--nay, encouraged! I knew it would be a fun night no matter out.
I started off the evening by shamelessly hitting on my hot friend Keaton. This is after detailing my sexy night with CDave via email, as well as mentioning some of my other floozy adventures. We can't really blame Keaton for rebuffing my advances. The next day, I aplogized if I was inappropriate and promised Keaton I wouldn't hit on him anymore, but I might have been lying.
After Keaton went home, Pretty Polly and I decided we needed to get the show going. The energy was lagging and if we didn't do something soon the night would be a bust. The solution was simple:
"Let's do shots."
At the bar, I spotted an attractive guy. Polly confirmed he was indeed cute and went into wingwoman mode like a pro.
The guy was just standing there, looking off into space, when Polly said,
"You look like you're lost."
Not anymore he wasn't.
The guy came over and I turned my smiley charm up to eleven, though I think he had enough beers at that point where it hardly mattered. Some probably-cheesy dialogue followed which I will spare you. Actually, he didn't say much, he just pulled me to the back area of the bar for a dance.
He was doing these choreographed movements I couldn't really follow along with, but I smiled and laughed and about two minutes into the song we were making out.
We kept dancing and I looked over at Polly and the other girls, who gave me bewildered what-just-happened-there looks and I raised my eyebrows in a damned-if-I-know reply.
The song ended, I returned to the girls, not being able to explain. I didn't even know this guy's name (Polly later found out; he tried to mack on her, too, but she found that understandably gross).
Now that I had my mojo back, it was time to work it. While at the bar waiting to order more shots, a trio of large, older biker-looking guys started chatting with Polly. I was nearby, standing in front of a cutie who looked like a smaller version of Viggo Mortenson. He was there with a male friend and glanced at me a few times, so it was time to break the ice.
"I wonder if I'm going to need to save my friend from those guys. They kind of accosted her."
Banter banter banter, introductions made, and Viggo ends up buying us a round of shots. Polly joins our group and chats with his friend, who is a sweetheart but not exactly the biggest winner in the Good Looks Sweepstakes, if you know what I mean. I hoped this would not prevent Polly from meeting a hottie of her own (alas, it did).
Viggo was in jeans and a leather jacket and I think he had me guess what he did for a living. I guessed he did something arty, like play in a band. Turns out he's a lawyer. More banter at the bar, standing close to each other, leaning in and then we were kissing, right in the middle of the crowd. (So strange, I never hooked up with lawyers before and I've now kissed two in the last few weeks). Polly made me stop kissing him at one point so that we could dance on the bar, which was fine with me.
Viggo, his friend, Polly and I left to find another bar. We ended up at a place that had a quiet lounge area in the back. Viggo and I sat on the couch, chatted, exchanged business cards (I love giving my card out; makes me feel like a grown-up), and made out. When he tried to get me to lie back on the couch, I started feeling a bit dizzy so I had to sit up. I drank lots of water and soda, knowing I was going to need to go home soon.
There was another round of shots, and I felt a vague queasiness coming on. Nothing I couldn't handle, but it was time to call it a night.
Viggo offered to let me stay at his place, but I would have declined regardless of my sobriety state. I enjoyed my time with him, but the chemistry wasn't anywhere near as irresistable as it was with CDave.
I made it home okay and endured a killer hangover yesterday (I normally don't do shots). I also thought a lot about CDave; I thought of his smile, the way he held my hand, our easy time together. I agonized about if and when he'd call.
I did get a call from a guy last night: Viggo. We spoke for nearly an hour and at the end of our conversation, he asked me out. I'm not much of a fan of the phone, so I am sending a universal plea to all the males on the planet:
If you call a girl you have already met in person with the intention of asking her out, please do so within the first fifteen minutes of conversation!
I enjoyed chatting with Viggo, but it might be tough to synch up our schedules to meet this week. Also, he's a cool guy, but I don't click with him the way I do with CDave. I just know I need to keep my options open and not discount potentially nice guys while waiting to hear from one.
I did get an email from CDave today. Short, casual, "just wanted to say hi and I'm alive." Ended with a smiley, but didn't ask me out again. Sounds like he's dipping a toe in the water, maybe to see if I'm freaked out for ending up in bed with him so quickly. Or he doesn't want to be an asshole by brushing me off completely. Or he's interested, but wants to make sure I'm interested, too, so is staying neutral until I give him some positive signs.
As much as I've tried to keep up The Rotation, none of these other men have been able to take my mind off of CDave. I couldn't fall asleep last night because of thinking about him so much.
I fucking hate dating sometimes. I wish I didn't make myself so paranoid over this kind of thing. It feels like ages since I went from the anxious uncertainty of initial contact with a man to the fluid confidence of mutual affection. Yes, I am having a blast going out and having wild nights kissing strangers, dancing on bars, and careening around the city until the sun comes up. However, I would trade it all in for a happy romantic relationship. I would love to get off this merry-go-round and work on developing a real, steady connection with a man.
Of course, it isn't as easy as merely wanting it. Sometimes, you just have to keep spinning...