And when I use that term of affection, I mean it only to be applied towards my nice, patient, non-unstable readers who forgive me if I don't post for a few days, of if I put up a "coming soon" post to let you know something is, well, coming soon. [the AUDACITY!]
Anyway, ain't nobody gonna steal my sunshine, so let's get on with the cray-cray, shall we?
Hopefully, you already read about my Thursday night in the "Singo de Mayo" post, since, due to Blogger weirdness lately (aka EPIC FAILURE!) that post seems to be GONE! WTF dudes? I'm sad but there's no way I can repost the whole thing. I will recap by saying I got "volunteered" to sing on stage with an amazing singer/songwriter, Ari Hest, during his performance at Hiro Ballroom. It was a blast, even though there was no apparent love connection on his behalf, as my sister BH had envisioned for me. I think things like that really only happen in movies. And, in my mind.
What I failed (and somehow, forgot?) to include was where I went after that.
My friend Kels had told me she was going to be attending a pool party. Yes, that's correct. A pool party in a hotel, nonetheless. These things are all pretty unheard of in NYC, not to mention we're still experiencing chilly spring nights here.
So, after my high of singing with Ari and anti-climatic re-greeting him after the show in the bar mitzvah-esque receiving line, I needed a little more fun before the night was done. Thinking to myself "am I actually doing this right now?" as I set out for the hotel at 12:30a, I even went so far as to take the subway there becuase apparently Cinco de Mayo is also Cinco de no Cab-o. Eff.
Once my chariot brought me to Times Square, I proceeded to experience something I've never seen in my almost ELEVEN years in this city.
I walked into the swanky Grace Hotel, upstairs to the thump of loud house music. I opened a door as the noise and smell of chlorine and mayhem hit me all at once. There it was: The Pool.
Not huge, but not small. And filled with about 50 units of Eurotrash and models galore, all jumping up and down to the pulse of the beat. Not to mention beach balls flying every which way and waterguns engaged in duels left and right. As I attempted to find Kels in this wet insanity, I tried to keep my balance, since I kept getting eye fatigue due to the overload of washboard abs. I finally found her and she took me upstairs to her bag where she had brought another suit for me. I should have been very over this whole scene, but something was so incredibly intriguing about it and the energy was so high, I knew I had to at least be a part of it for a few minutes.
Kels proceeded to hand me a bikini that I can only describe as a bikini on top and a LOIN CLOTH on the bottom.
I looked at her incredulously and yelled "WHY DO YOU OWN THIS???" "NO ONE SHOULD OWN THIS!!!" But alas, the loin cloth was all that stood between me and pool-o-rama. Luckily it just barely covered my upper pubs and I decided I didn't care. We jumped back into the pool, as the water immediately filled up my loin cloth, making it now much more reminiscent of a droopy diaper. That aside, it was absolute crazamaniabanana-ness in that pool. Seriously. I have no regrets. Well, maybe the loin cloth. And, Kels trying to be a good friend by wiping my running black eye makeup off my face so hard I was almost positive I would look in the mirror and see no eye skin remaining.
Needless to say, work on Friday was a bit rough. But, the show must go on!
I had made plans earlier in the week with a Match dude. I've been incredibly discerning with my people shopping lately and have new rules about the amount of banter, humor and predicted (REALISTIC) physical attraction I will have to the person before agreeing to meet. It had just gotten too exhausting and not worth it. But this guy's profile was absolutely hilarballz and he looked pretty cute in his pics, so we decided to meet for drinks. I was semi-curious if I'd hear from him since we made the plans much earlier in the week (and semi-hoping he'd flake since I was beeeeat) but lo and behold, he rang. So, I rallied.
Was he cool?
Was he cute?
Was he smart/successful?
Did we have fun?
Did we accidentally get BOMBED?
And that, ladies and germs, was it! At about 1am we realized we were both totally tanked and needed to peace out STAT. We got to a corner where I was going east and he was going west. So he just gave me a slightly awks hug and said "Sorry we got so drunk!"
Haven't heard from him since. And, I'm kinda okay with that.
Even though I slept until 1pm, college-style (mostly just too disheartened by my current life to get out of bed), I still felt exhausted all day. I contemplated not going out Saturday night, but my friend Mel hit me up. She is a friend and co-worker from long ago in a similar boat to me-- divorced and having the time of her life like a wild-woman, ala me last July-November.
She enticed me with dinner with friends, including TWO hot Germans, both over 6'3. She had me by the balls.
So I went, knowing it would be fun no matter what and also great to catch up with Mel.
The two Germans, as promised, were both tall and good-looking. I just didn't quite feel that "spark" with either, but it didn't matter. I was still having fun.
Everyone in the group wanted to go out for drinks after and, being the only NYC'er, I was nominated for tour guide, natch. I had the brillz idea to bring them to Loreley, the German Beer place because a) it has a garden and it was a lovely night out and b) it's across from the street and a great way for me to causally peace out if my tiredness caught up with me.
However, I realized I had gotten that German Beer place mixed up with another one nearby, and seeing as this one required us to all sit at one table and stare at each other, I decided it was time to hop to the other, so at least we could be more social.
And off we went, traipsing through the Lower East Side to the other bar. When we got there, however, we were informed it was a $20 cover for dudes since they were showing the big fight Saturday night. Lame-sauce! So we went across the street to another bar to have a drink and figure out our next move. I assumed mine would be the ol' "bow out gracefully" maneuver, but Mel beat me to it! Apparently she got an offer too good to refuse and peaced out before I even knew what hit me. And, so did her girlfriend who was with her, leaving me and 3 Germans who only kinda know the city. Shiza!!
I know they had no expectations of me, but me and my damn guilty conscience felt like I had to at least hang with them for a bit longer. And suddenly, it hit me!
He had texted me on tuesday night telling me he was having people over to watch this big fight Saturday night if I wanted to come. I told him to hit me up on Saturday with the details. And of course, he didn't.
He's actually been blowing me up a bit lately. But I think he's just a) bored b) hoping to get some. I really haven't indulged and most of the time, he barely gives me any notice and I have plans already. So, this was some advance notice here alright!
However, since he never got back to me with deets, I forgot. Until, I needed to entertain some Germans (and myself). Plus, as luck would have it, El Señor lives right nearby on the LES. ¡Olé!
So I texted to see if it was cool, and off we went. As we got there, the fight had just ended and the party was dwindling, but still lively. Either way, at least I had something fun for my German-inherits to do.
I chatted with El Señor for a bit and instantly remembered why I do not like him, in any way, shape or form, other than as friends. And maybe not even as that so much. If you want more info, just click on his link above so you can be reminded of stories such as the time I told him my stomach hurt and he told me "So jus poop." He's also a very VERY big fan of himself. Well, at least someone is.
I looked over and noticed one of my Germans sitting on the couch next to a very cute guy I had not yet spotted. So, I promptly went to join them. I was instantly intrigued by Blue Eyes, who I discovered, upon being quite nice to look at, was also a freelance copywriter, currently working at an agency across the street from me. And of course, I'm always going to get along swimmingly with other copywriters. In fact, it often becomes a battle of the wits. And I QUITE enjoy that!
So I schmoozed with Blue Eyes for a bit and the Germans split. I considered doing the same, as did Blue Eyes, since his mom was coming in the next day for a Mother's Day brunch and he didn't want to be "sweating vodka" during that. But El Señor and crew were going to a club in the East Village and we all walked out together. On the street, I went to say goodbye to everyone and, somehow, got convinced to go for "one drink." But, since Blue Eyes was going as well, it was really not hard to convince me. However I was quasi-concerned about how to conduct myself in this situation, seeing as El Señor was there too, we have history, and I have no idea what his feelings or expectations are for me. I also kind of didn't care. And he didn't seem to either, as I hardly saw him as the rest of us hit the dance floor. I wasn't sure if I was getting any heat from Blue Eyes, but sure enough, eventually he started dancing up on me. Woo woo!
After awhile, the whole crew finally decided to leave [THANK GOD!] as it was probably after 3a at this point. We were all hanging around in front and I was trying to get a read on El Señor to see if he was pissed, plus I also wanted him to leave so I could keep hanging with Blue Eyes! Blue Eyes and I then decided to grab pizza next door and when we came out, everyone was gone. YAY!
We shared a cab back to our 'hood (he lives a few blocks away), but somehow ended up at my apt for a night cap. I played him a hilarious rap song that happens to use his semi-odd last name in it, and he was dying over it. And we hung out on my couch for a bit until finally he looked at me:
HIM: "So, do you wanna make out or something?"
ME: "Haha! Okay!"
And it wasn't bad at all! A few mins later I informed him no one has ever asked me that question before. 'Cause, you know, they usually just DO it?!
Suddenly, the light outside the window began to change and we both looked at each other in horror that it was close to sunrise. Bedtime!
I told him he could slumber if he wanted, but that I was not giving it up. He seemed surprised, and I was EXTREMELY proud of myself for following through with my new plan. But we had fun smoochy, snuggly time and excellent spoon-age until about 10am when he SHOT out of bed, threw his clothes on, quickly kissed me goodbye and literally RAN out of the door.
I chalked it up to the Mother's Day brunch, which he had seemed very concerned with, but still. Weird? Plus, no exchange of information!
So I figured I'd wait a few days and then maybe find him on facebook to send him the funny song (as he'd requested the night before). But of course, I was hoping he'd find me first.
Then I started to worry maybe he was having issues with the overlap with El Señor? Maybe this was a bro-code violation?
Monday afternoon at work, after several false alarms of Facebook notifications that were NOT from Blue Eyes, I went out for some Starbucks to jolt myself awake for the rest of the night. And then, BAM! Ran right into Blue Eyes!
Thank goodness I looked semi-cute. But I was so caught off-guard and he was with a girl, probably a co-worker, but still. Didn't really lend itself to the stop-and-chat situation. We hugged [awkwardly] and I, acting pretty aloof if I do say so myself, went to walk off when he yelled:
HIM: "Hey! You gotta send me that song!"
ME: "And...how would I do that?"
HIM: "Girl, you know how to work facebook."
ME: EYEBROW RAISE.
HIM: "Fine, I'll find you."
So I smiled and walked off, feeling kind of good about that. I then went into the drugstore to get an Rx. 4 mins later, BAM! There he was again. Damn this stupid small work neighborhood!!
So I told him to please stop stalking me. Then, we made idle chit chat and, flustered and floundering for something to say, I finally just said "Fine, just give me your email and i'll send it to you." AHH. Whyyyyy did I do that? Oh I know. Because I'm a dumbass.
I then decided to use this as an opp to send a coy and funny email to him.
"Behold, your new theme song. Not to mention an excellent ploy to get me to contact you. Well-played." I then asked him a funny question in ref to something we spoke about saturday night.
"The whole 18th floor is dancing over here. Merci."
I sent him back a funny one-liner.
Guess that's done. And fine, if that's how you roll, lame-o, then I don't wanna roll witcha. But still....WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?
When did I become "One-night-only-Lindsey?"
Maybe I should just start advertising myself as such.
Hey, you gotta have a gimmick, right....?