I did not expect us to end up at a wedding.
I swear, all of the following is true, even though remembering it and writing about it feels surreal.
When I met up with Polly, it was close to 11:00pm and she had already been drinking with other friends, so I had some catching up to do. No problem. I downed a few cocktails, we saw the bar we were in had no Prospects, so we moved on to the next place.
Polly's friends wanted to get dessert, so we stopped at a bar/cafe. At a table near us, I spotted a beautiful sight: eight people, six of them men. I pointed this out to Polly and she said they looked a bit young, around 23. I agreed, but guessed their age to be more around 25 (which is doable). We made a bet on it (loser bought winner's drink) and I said,
"You know there's only one way to solve this. You're going to have to ask them."
Polly went over and started talking to them. The guys were French, all of them 26 (I won the bet). Of the two girls, one of them was a guy's sister, which improved our odds even more. Polly conversed with them for quite a while. I would have gone over and introduced myself, too, but the tables were set close together, so logistics made it impossible. Instead, I waved hello to them.
Polly told the French guys the next bar we were going to and encouraged them to join us later. Go Polly!
While this was a nice way to kick of the evening, I knew we could and would do better.
When we got to our next destination, we were dismayed to see a line of people waiting to get into the bar. What was going on? We passed the crowd and all of a sudden Polly shrieked, spotting an old actor friend.
"Actor Friend! What are you doing here?!"
He was visiting from the west coast and attending a friend's wedding. The wedding was that evening. It would take place in the back room of the bar that we were waiting to get into.
Actor Friend had a plus one and could get one of us in, but was worried about having a second guest. Polly and I weren't worried.
The groom walked by and I congratulated him on his impending nuptials. Actor Friend asked if he could bring an extra guest, the groom said sure, and that non-problem was solved.
We finally got inside the bar, which was packed and buzzing with an immense festive energy. If you didn't know a wedding was about to take place you could have sworn it was New Year's Eve.
There were hot guys galore. We slowly squeezed past people as we tried to get to the back room. Polly and I were giddy. We started talking to a trio of cute Dutch guys, but had to keep moving. A super-tall, super-cute redhead and I smiled at each other as he headed out of the bar.
"You should come with us!" I said, as we passed each other.
We both turned around and he smiled again. I waved for him to come back. The crowd kept us moving in opposite directions.
We reached the back room. It was wedding time!
A friend of the groom's performed the ceremony, which took place on a small stage. It was a wedding between these two absolutely adorable hipsters and included a "vow off". Hilarious. There was a moment during the real vows when I think everyone in the room got teary. It was a bizarre and beautiful event.
But it gets even stranger. Somehow in all the shuffle, I ended up near the stage. The bride threw the bouquet. I caught it.
That's right. I caught a bouquet at a wedding in a bar for two people I never met before in my life.
Then there was karaoke. The guy who performed the wedding was emcee and to kick things off, he sang Billy Idol's "White Wedding". Of course!
I put in a song and went to find Polly. In my search, I ran into a couple of the French guys from the cafe. I talked to them for a minute, but they had a snotty attitude and I grew bored faster than you can say 'escargot'. I started a conversation with a hot guy who helped film the wedding, but his breath was so bad, I couldn't stay near him long. I introduced him to Polly and she was horrified by his breath, too, but she managed to ply him with gum. Not sure how (or if) she made out with him.
I was having a great time, enjoying the happy vibes. I introduced myself to the bride, congratulated her, laughed about catching the bouquet, and promised to invite her to my wedding.
It was sometime during a rendition of George Michael's "Faith" that I ended up standing next to a tall, gorgeous guy, dressed in black, who looked like a brunette, male version of Uma Thurman. I said something about the song to Boy Uma and he said something back, but it didn't spark a conversation. I decided I'd stay where I was and see if he'd check me out and start talking to me again.
Banter banter banter and we're making out. Somebody singing Simple Minds' "(Don't You) Forget About Me" and it feels like we're in an 80's movie.
Boy Uma's friend came over and gushed about what a gentleman Boy Uma is.
"He is such a great guy." Boy Uma's friend reiterated.
"Is Dolly still here?" asked the emcee, from the stage.
I waved my bouquet in the air and made my way up there. I channeled my best Deborah Harry for Blondie's "Call Me" and had my little rock star moment.
Back to Boy Uma. More kissing and then we're at the bar. Boy Uma bought me a drink, more kissing at the bar, he told me about being an architect, which I found really sexy for some reason, and yet more kissing.
Then he mentioned something about a girlfriend. It's a long distance thing and she knows he fools around with other girls. I told him I have things going on with other guys. I was worried he was going to go into guilt mode, but he probably found it hard to talk about his girlfriend with my tongue in his mouth.
It was time to go. He walked me outside to get a taxi. It turns out he lives less than a mile away from me. Why not share a cab? Why not indeed.
Two stops, we told the driver.
In the cab, we were, of course, kissing some more. There was no mention of him going home with me.
Then he put his hand down my pants.
Let me tell you, when you are high on a stranger's wedding, buzzed from half a dozen drinks, and a hot guy is fingering you in the back of a taxi, it's hard to think straight.
There was only one stop.
I may have mentioned this before, but it can be really tough to get me off when I've been drinking. It takes some serious perseverance. Boy Uma rose to the challenge (no, not that way; he kind of had whisky dick) and he succeeded. We spent the next four hours fooling around and did manage to have sex a few times, though he kept getting soft. Which was too bad for him, but he took care of me many times over. Boy Uma was truly amazing with his hands.
We had a good, natural chemistry, and he would have made a decent fuck buddy, I think (especially since he lives so close by). At the same time, I have a feeling he's still burdened by the girlfriend thing, so I didn't give him my number or email when he left.
I passed out, happy to have the bed to myself. Didn't wake up until after noon.
My Chinese food's here and I'm starving. I think my appetite is justified...