Friday, September 23, 2011

Dating story #67, The Calm before the Storm

Me n' BFWB's band, BUCK, wants to get into Battle of the Ad Bands but we need VOTES! So can y'all take 1.1 sec to click this link and vote for us by clicking "like?" I'd appreciate it mucho!

Now, on to the stories! Settle in folks.  We’ve got ourselves a two-parter!


Picking right up where we left off seems like a good idea, oui?
Let’s do it.

As I traveled back to the city from my deBEACHery, my mind wandered back to Roc who, according to my calculations, should have been back from his 2 week Costa Rican adventure for a few days now.
Ok, sure. He ges a few days to adjust from his travels before contacting me.
But, did he forget?
Did he meet/fall in love/marry some Costa Rican beauty?
Of course, Miss Anties in her panties couldn’t just sit idly by wondering!
So, I shot him a quick text. I figured I could reach out once and that was it.  And, I made it easy breezy and topical!
“Hey there! Was just talking with someone about Costa Rica and it made me think about you. How was your adventure?”

He wrote me back shortly after and we continued to text back and forth. Which, lo and behold, led to us making a DATE for that Thursday!

Of course, I had dinner plans already with besties KK and Rayza, but I was hoping they would be ok with having an early dinner because I was afraid if I went another week without meeting up the whole thing would fizzle, since boys are lame and forgetful and can only remember things for up to 5 days.
KK and Rayza agreed “In the name of love!” to an early dinner and the Roc and I texted a little bit every day leading up to our date.  He even told me he was looking forward to it. Swoon!  I was looking forward to it, not to mention hoping I’d remember what he looked like because, let’s face it, I was several sheets to the wind the night I stumbled into that bar and found him in the bathroom line.

On Thursday, I decided to eat a light lunch so I wouldn’t look like a bloatation device that night. A nice little greek salad with some feta cheese should do it, right?
Contrary to what I thought, apparently feta is NOT amongst the types of cheeses my lactarded self can eat.
By the time I got to the restaurant to meet up, I was already asking Rayza if she had some “Big I” on her (our word for the wonder drug known as Immodium.)
Is it normal for people to carry that with them at a times? It is if you’re Rayza. And god bless her.
Then, KK arrived. And my stomach departed.
Luckily, the bathroom in the French restaurant was conveniently located DOWNSTAIRS, so I also got in a fair amount of cardio during the course of the meal, running up and down them every 5 minutes.  And NO, I’m NOT exaggerating about that.
I continued to pop the Big I [as in multiple. As in definitely more than the recommended amount] but it wasn’t taking effect!
I started to get nervous as time marched on and the time of date meet-up neared.
I asked my friends if I should cancel but they felt I should stay the course. All that Big I had to start working soon right??
And finally, it did.
Perfect timing for meeting up to go DRINKING with someone.
I ran off to meet the Roc at the bar he chose, The Highlands, where I just so happen to have a friend who’s a bartender [whom I maybe smooched several months ago. Ancient history!]  Which just so happens to make me look really cool, especially when they barely charge us for an entire night of drinks!  It’s good to have friends in high places.
The Roc walked in a bit after me and we proceeded to hang, drink and talk at the bar till close to 2a when they threw us out! During that time I learned a lot about him.
He’s 31- [AA]!
From upstate NY.
And works in Finance. FINANCE! Happy, mom and dad??
Also that he’s an incredibly nice, laid-back and just easygoing guy. 
He seemed to be into me too, but I couldn’t totally tell since he’d been a perfect gentleman thus far. Dammit!
So, even though it was 2am.
On a Thursday.
And he gets up at 6am everyday [Ew.]
We decided to go for “one more” at another bar. He tried to pick a table for us to sit at but I insisted on a booth where we could sit next to each other. Helloooo! If you’re gonna make a move buddy,’re gonna need to be sitting closer to me. Duh.
And finally, it happened.  He leaned in for the kill and we proceeded to have a mega strong makeout in the bar. Classy!
We finally decided to leave said bar, and I had already had a talk with myself about not going home with him. Plus the fact I had an early (for me) day at work the next day and that would not have helped.  So we had another strong makeout on the street corner and he put me in a cab, after saying “To be continued…?”  To which I responded “I certainly hope so!”

Woohooo!  I had a proper date. With a proper guy. And went home without a slumber party!!

Who’s proud?

I wasn’t any kind of worried about hearing from him the next day either, and was validated when he wrote me around 11a saying he had a great time and asking me how my morning was so far. 
Sidebar: This guy ALWAYS makes a point to ask me about ME, what I’m doing, how I’m doing. I had no idea that was even possible!!



This brings us to the weekend that the East Coast was prepping to be battered by Hurricane (and later, Tropical Storm) Irene. 

Clearly I was not making it to the beach that weekend thanks to that beotch Irene, considering they did a mandatory evac of Fire Island.
So, I prepped for the storm. 
By buying beer, wine, and water.
The mass hysteria in the city was EPIC.
But I was clearly no kind of concerned.  At its worst, it was only supposed to be one really bad day.
And, if I heard one more person talk about “battening the hatches…” I thought I might go after them with a hot poker.
Seriously, people!

But, the Roc had been asking about my “storm plan.” I was thinking it would be kinda nice to chill out with him and friends with a bottle of wine, as he had kind of been alluding to.
However, his job had other plans for him.  Since his financial place of business was in an evacuation zone in NYC, they shipped him out to CT to their “disaster branch” in case people couldn’t return to work on Monday due to storm damage.
After all, money never sleeps right?
So that option was off the table. And totally fine seeing as we had just had a great date #1 and I didn’t want to risk “over-exposure” as my amazing therapist often advises me against.

And, since I was finally stuck in the city for a weekend, I decided to get my mange of a hair-mop addressed, since it was in desperate need of a serious cutting.  So I made an appointment for Saturday am since the entire city was shutting down after 12p, you know battening the hatches for the storm. [AHHHH.]
My haircut got moved to 9:45am because the salon wanted to get their stylists out of there, but I did not complain. This hair needed rescuing. My social life was hanging in the balance!!
Afterwards, I had plans to meet up with Sexy Sue for brunch.  I walked over to her West Village ‘hood to meet her, while be lightly rained on.  Once I got there, I felt I had stepped into the apocalypse.  Almost ALL the restaurants were closed with windows covered and taped up.
Really, people??!
Luckily, one of my fave cute little spots, ‘ino, was open, where I also happen to know a waiter/bartender (What? Don’t judge. I’m friendly.), and settled in at the bar to have some brunch bites and mimosas.
The rain started to come down, on and off, and the mimosas turned into a lovely bottle of rosé.  Heck, we were in no hurry. What else was there to do?
While I was there, I got a call from my sister BH to tell me the news that she was engaged!  I knew this was going to be happening at some point over the weekend, but still very exciting news!

Then, I resumed my agenda for the day: Drinking.

We were there so long we ordered lunch as well and finally at 2p they kicked us out so they could close. Which was precisely the time BFWB called to tell us they were drinking at a bar in the east village and we should join. DONE!
Since almost all bars/restos had closed, the ones that were open were packed and lively. C’mon people, it’s a storm party!
And party we did.
TJ came and had a few beers with us, then departed to go open Mother’s [lindsey's] Ruin for the night. Uh-oh…
After taking a snack break at Casa Lindsey, we were all ready to hit the Ruin.  It had a nice crowd going, including one of the investors, Bards, I’ve had a few crazy nights with (although never quite worthy of a whole blog post). We took the bar over and even started an impromptu dance party. So far, this hurricane was shaping up to be an EXCELLENT event.
At one point, BFWB ran out into the rain and just stood there. I looked at him and thought “What a moron.”  Then, I joined him.
We danced outside in the rain to “Tiny Dancer” and it will forever be one of my favorite memories.
People continued to cycle in and out of the bar as the rain came down, including a nice, tall strapping lad. I struck up a convo with him and thought to myself “yeah, this will do.”
However after a bit, he and his friend wanted to bounce to meet their friends at another open bar, Spring Lounge, a few blocks away.
Fine by me! I was still in my neighborhood and already very wet from my outdoor dance party, so why not?
I dragged Sexy Sue and the dude-barnacle that had attached himself to her and off we went.
We then walked in to what I’d like to call DUDEAPALOOZA.
I’ve never seen so many tall, good-looking guys!
And, so few chicks!
Hello, had I just entered thes the Motherland?!
Meanwhile, cute guy from the previous bar wasn’t really paying too much attention to me, however he did give me the amazing gift of his HOTTER, older brother. THANKS!
Older bro, who we’ll now refer to as Hurricane Boy, was confident, flirty and, did I mention HOT?  Plus, someone (I do not know why) made me feel his pecs. Ummm…I almost melted into goo on the floor. For some reason a nice chest really does things to me.
After a bit, Sexy Sue’s suitor finally gave up and left the bar. And it became apparent that she needed to bolt too. Homegirl doesn’t drink beer, so she was all wine/cocktails all day—I have no idea how she was even still standing! Nice showing though, SS. Fo sho.
So I faked leaving, put her in a cab, and walked right back in.
Shockingly, I wasn’t even a total mess at all after a full 12 hours of steady drinking [Well, this was a marathon, not a sprint right?]. I digress. I just couldn’t drink one more beer. I was yearning for a snack, warm, dry clothes and a bed with a [hot, muscle-y] boy to snuggle with in it.  But I knew Hurricane Boy was not ready to leave all his bro’s yet and I just couldn’t hang any longer without some food. Luckily, we established that we both live in the ‘hood and I said maybe I’d come back after I ate my snack [not a chance].  We exchanged digits and as I said goodbye he leaned in…very slowly…solid eye contact the entire time…and gently…bit my lip.  HOTT!  I mean, sure, kinda odd. But, hey- I like a new move every now and then!  It would have been far more enjoyable had I not had incredibly sunburned lips, but beggars, choosers…

I left the bar and trudged home in the massive deluge that had begun, wondering if I’d hear from Hurricane Boy that night and if I’d still be conscious/coherent at that point. 
And then, a genius idea, like a naughty little lightbulb over my head, popped up.

I got home, made a lovely snack, cleaned up a bit and then made my move.  A move, I might add, that I’ve NEVER made before. But c’mon people, it’s HURRICANE RULES!
Awhile back, Irish, after sending me 99 amazing pics of his abs, etc requested a pic of “my bum.”  So I spent roughly 30 mins [it’s not easy!!!] orchestrating the perfect pic of it, in cute lacey boy shorts I might add, to send to him. 

So, I merely texted Hurricane Boy “Just got out of my wet clothes.”  And, attached that picture.

He was over at my apt in under 15 mins.  

I’ve never gotten any kind of delivery in NYC that quickly.

Apparently that’s how it’s done, folks!

We had an amazing time, he’s actually a total blast. Smart, funny, with abs I may need to borrow for washing clothing on sometime. HOOOOLY 6-PACK, Batman!

He left late the next morning upon hearing his apt had a leak. Oopsie. As he left he said “Can we do this again sometime?”


A happy hurricane to all, and to all a good night...