Friday, July 8, 2011

Dating story #58 & 59, The Ireland to Canada Express.

Look at me, posting TWICE in one week!
I'm back on the block and ready to rock, y'all!

As much fun as I had putting the ASS back in ASSpen with my fam, I will admit I'm having a bit of a difficult time accepting my new role as "Family 5th wheel." In a way, it's totally justice for my sister, BH, for all the years she had to deal with it. It's really not a day at the disco.
I mean, no one really "leaves me out" per se, but still. My parents want to do one thing, BH and her bf want to do another, I don't want to do either and--boom. There I am, alone.  Now, as you know I am pretty fiercely independent, but still. When you're away on vacay in a beautiful spot, those are the times that make you truly reflect on how you wish you had someone to share it with.  Or at least share your ridiculously huge, plush, would-never-fit-in-NYC King sized bed. Sheesh!

So, I hopped on a super early flight and got myself back to "civilization" fast.  I love my family and we have a blast together, but sometimes I just need to get back to my own life to feel better. Weird.

I then agreed to meet out J-Socks and Mel, who you may remember from "Crazy Brit Guy Piggy Back Ride" night out.  These are my two newly single, formerly married friends who are basically in the place I was about a year ago when I was single for the first time in a decade. I can practically hear them screaming "FREEEDOM AT LAAAAST!" with every drink we have. It's awesome.
Although re-uniting the two of them (we all used to work together) was like reuniting gasoline and dynamite.  They can often make ME look tame. Yes, that's hard to do. But, impressive nonetheless.
So we had another of our "Wild Wednesdays."
At the onset, this one gave the facade of being a more tame one than the previous nights of boy-filled debauchery.  
I met up with Mel at Kingswood which was fairly chill. Mel had been told that it was filled with "hot, aussie men" and was gravely disappointed when that appeared to be a strong false.  Alas, I assured her it was just early-- Yes, remarkably 8:30p in NYC on a Wednesday is early.  Sure enough, by the time J-Socks rolled in about 40 mins later, so did more boys. However, due to my position at the bar, we had been engaging in conversation with a tall, blonde cutie who was waiting for his friends.  The best part about hanging out with J & M is that we all have VERY different types:  
Mine: Tall, dark and often hipster.
Mel: Blondies, preferably tall
J-Socks: Swarthy, ranging from Latino to Eurotrash.

Since I happened to be sitting next to a Mel-type, J and I did a whole bar switcharoo while she was in the bathroom so she'd have to come back and sit next to Blondie, which worked quite well. I have no idea if the boys even noticed, not that they seemed to mind.  Blondie had friends with him and they kept us continuously in cocktails. 
I had also had the genius idea that night that, in effort to drink less calorically, I should only drink vodka sodas. That's fine if you're only going to have a 3-4 drink night. I'm pretty sure I was at drink 5 before we even left Kingswood. Brilliant plan, Lindsey!
Unfortunately, Blondie was the only looker of his crew and we were all cocktail'd up and ready to start our night. So, we bid them adieu to hit our good ol' standby, the Standard Biergarten, or as I have recently re-named it, MeatGarten.
It might be the ultimate pick-up scene and we have, historically, done very well there.  Characters such as Muscle Brit and Jewish Lawyer (I may not have blogged about him due to dullness) have been spawned from said location.  But this night at the Standard was a little off. First, J-socks got into an argument with a dorky dad about how it's totally fine to put her daughter into pageants if her daughter wants to do it.  While amusing, not really beneficial to my dating life.  So we wandered to another side of the expansive bar where I began talking to a very VERY tall and good-looking guy who happens to be a Canadian import. I have no idea how long we spoke since my number of cocktails had obviously been gradually increasing, but I do know he kept hugging me, got my number and then turned and kind of blew me off? Weird, but whatever. We had already decided to make a move to another favorite location, gastropub Wilfie & Nell's in the West Village.
I don't know why I was dragging behind, but all I recall is walking in to J & M already seated at a table with two pretty hot guys, one who happened to be Irish
Since it seemed like they were all set up, I went to the bar [home of my credit card that I seem to have left there and still haven't been back to retrieve] to get a drink.  That's when I noticed Blondie at the bar! I think we had been texting them our locations, but he seemed to act like it was a random run-in. Regardless, I went off to fetch Mel who was quite excited to see her knight in blonde armor.
I went to sit with J-socks and the guys and Irish was on me like salt on fries. Apparently, he had his sights on me the whole time and was quite delighted when I went to sit next to him.  He is only in town visiting for awhile, but between the green eyes, adorable Irish brogue, and fabulously muscle-y arms, I was not putting up any kind of fight.  In fact, after that the rest of the night is pretty much a blur. But the best/worst part?  The ridiculous pictures that surfaced the next day.  At one point, I looked around and all 3 of us were making out with our respective guys at the bar. Classy broads!
I shouldn't share these pics with you, because they are a) incriminating and b) embarrassing. But they are also c) hilarious, and that always wins out for me. Now, most of these pictures were staged for photos, but still. They are RIDIC!!  At least each one serves to teach a lesson.
1) The Pre-Kiss Linger
A lesson in setting the stage for a great first kiss

2) The Fake Nursing Pic {feat J-Socks}

A lesson in remembering that all men are babies
3) The Hookah Smoking Pic (that you don't remember taking)

A lesson in not taking pics with phallic objects near your mouth

4) The Highlighting your ASSets pic

A lesson in never doing this again. EVER.
For some reason unbeknownst to me, Irish also sent me this pic of him. I honestly have no idea why, but THANK YOU, ABS!

Very needless to say, based on photo evidence above, we had a wild n' crazy night that ended up with EVERYONE sleeping at my tiny apt. Or at least they started out there. Seriously....
Who.Am. I?

Oh well, it was fun!

Moving on to #59!

The next day I received a text:
"Hey 5'9, meet any other hot 6'5 Canadians last night?"
I replied:
"Only 3. Slow night."

We engaged in a text-change that ended up with him asking me to meet him for a drink on the LES later that night.  Since I was already going to be there for a friend's party, I figured why the hell not!
So after party #1 ended, I set off to meet Tall Canadian for a drink. And, that's precisely what his name was in my phone. Wanna know why?
I had NO idea what his name was!
And really, how could I have possibly been expected to remember that information?
I met Tall Canadian at a nearby lounge and led off with:
"Wanna hear a funny story? I have no idea what your name is!"
He thought that was hilarious, alright, and continued to think so when he refused to tell me his name. I countered that he wouldn't know mine at all if it hadn't been programmed into his phone.
He agreed this was probably true, but instead bartered to only give me his name if I bought the next round.  Now, I usually offer to buy a round anyway, and since this was part of a game we were playing, I played along, but something felt odd. The bartender heard it all and basically told me I should RUN out of the bar at that minute and not look back!
Okay, it wasn't that extreme, lady.  But still, I don't like being asked to do anything.  However, he is Canadian so...who knows.  Plus, Mr. 6'5 turned out to be 25.  Yikes. I haven't gone there in awhile.  I decided it wasn't a date night deal-breaker, just something to be acutely aware of.
We had a good time together though, good chemistry, good conversation.  He's quite affectionate, holding my hand almost from the get-go. That's a new one.
Several bars and bites later we were both exhausted and I told him he could walk me home.  Halfway there,he stopped me in the street and planted one one me.  I like this kind of spontaneity.  I also like when it isn't all saved up for that "goodbye kiss moment." Yeech. Too much pressure!
As he walked me to my door he pulled the old "Can I use your bathroom?" trick. 
What do you do in this situation???
This has happened a few times and I can't exactly tell someone to hold it as they walk home 20 blocks at 1:30am, can I?  It's such an annoying position to be put in.  But, I was determined no slumber parties would be happening.  
Apparently he thought differently, unless in Canada using someone's bathroom goes hand in hand with taking your boots off? 
We had a nice, strong make-out in my kitchen but when he tried to move me over to my couch, I gave him the smack-down.  I'm pretty sure I said "Boots on, ass out the door!" I said it in a nice way, though! 
Clearly he wasn't too pissed off at me for that since I've heard from him today, but still. What is with these dum dums?
I've had enough for the week.  And it was a SHORT WEEK!

I'm off to collect my credit card. And possibly, my dignity.

Happy Friday, y'all!


1 comment:

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