Friday, September 24, 2010

Dating story #5, a lesson in the art of a quick medical survey and/or scan

Hello Friday Friends!  

It appears we've made it to the weekend, and not a moment too soon.

Last night saw me n' MIM out with friends of MIM at the hot, new Meatpacking spot, {Villa Pacri}.  Now, I'm really not the biggest fan of the Meatpacking District and its pretentious, trying-too-hard, "be on the list" situations.  That was so 8 years ago for me.  But, we had an in.  So, I was IN!  It's beautifully designed and there was some nice tunes crankin'.  I would like to give a special shout-out to the gilded couches that practically begged for this to happen:















However, at 11pm it was still too early for the place to be hoppin.  So, we took more.  See: Subsy n' MIM just chillin' on the subtle decor.

But, after awhile, and with no prospects around, I decided it was time to bounce.   

On the way home, I got a txt from The-bro telling me to meet them at an East Village bar. Torn between knowing I should go home and actually sleep some in my lifetime, yet also not wanting the night to be a total waste of a good outfit, hair and makeup, I obviously decide to go.  (duh)

Turns out, tons of my friends are at this bar, including Dubs. Yeehaw, now the outfit is definitely not a waste!  Especially because he repeatedly referred to me (in his McConaughey-type drawl) as "hot babe" most of the night.  Giddy-up. 

Now, I'm somewhat impatient with a short attention span. That, coupled with my new "I don't give a f'k attitude" of late, inspired me to have this conversation.
Me:  "Do I intimidate you?"
Dubs: "Not at all."
Me: "Really? Well I heard a rumor you asked for my digits."
Dubs: "Yep."
Me: "Well, what exactly are you planning on doing with them?"
Dubs: "Waiting for the right time."

Interesting. So I let up. And me, Dubs, and The-bro ended up as the last men standing and clearly decided it was pizza time, or as I like to call it, 2nd dinner time.  But The-bro left us at pizza in search of other "hot babes," so then it was two.  We decided to move the party back to my apt for a night cap and I was like FINALLY!  So we have a fun 'ol time, laugh our asses off, and keep playing DJ for each other.  Yet, NO MOVES.  I'm seriously wondering what the hell is going on here.  Finally, after a trip to the bathroom, he comes back and announces to me that he's been kind of sick all week (I knew this) and, in a related story, he has some kind of cold-sore situation that's bringing him down.  AH-HA!  
It's all starting to make sense.  Lack of moves, the "waiting for the right time" comment...  

I tell him it's totally fine and no pressure.  But I also said I really couldn't see anything on his face. Then again, my apt is glowing with mood-lighting. So naturally I excuse myself and come back a minute later with my mini-mag flashlight.  I then proceed to jump on top of him and shine the light in his face to examine why we are not making out.  Mostly, because I find this to be HILARIOUS, and because I really didn't see anything there in the first place.  Luckily, he thinks this is funny too.  A sense of humor goes a long way for me.

We end the night spooning and laughing on my couch, and...it's actually really nice.  Sometimes when you take your eyes off the prize, you get something even better.

Lesson:  Always remember to do a quick once-over and even throw in a few subtle medical history interview questions into your conversation for optimal health maintenance and/or avoiding oral herpes.