Wednesday, December 22, 2010

The Day After...

The following day, Sunday, I friend requested my new acquaintances.  All were super cute, successful, creative and fun people.  One of my new FB friends immediately emailed me.  Since he was wearing a shirt with a red cup on the front, I'll refer to him from here on out as Red Cup or RC, or Red, whatever sounds the best. Red Cup and I quickly exchanged numbers and continued the conversation via text and he invited me to happy hour/ dinner that night.  Well, he invited me to hawaiian food referencing a conversation we had the night previous, and I suggested Happy hour at PCG to get their yummy HH burgers and fries.
We agreed on 6pm and met there. Oddly enough we arrived in the parking lot at the EXACT same time and and parked 1 spot away from each other.  Technically I arrived right after him, because I actually followed him into the parking lot.  How would I know this, you ask?  Well I recognized his car...and not because I saw it the night previous...it's because I did my research like any safe single girl should do before going out on a date and Googled earlier in the day.  What I found out is that he drove a black Chrysler with rims and vanity plates.  Though I'm not one to LOVE vanity plates, and after registering my own car this year, and realizing the extra effort it takes to actually get them, I tried not to judge him for it.  At least he only has his middle name on there, instead of something horrible like "YUH8TEN."  Also, I'm not a huge fan of the quintessential professional black guy car, but he did purchase a couple years ago - in his mid-20's - so he gets a pass.  I have faith that if he buys a car in his 30's he'll surely know what to get, because as Jay-Z say's in his song "30 Something," he's young enough to know the right car to buy but old enough not to put rims on it.  But even so, we have two lessons here, 1) don't judge a book by it's cover and 2) Google is still the number 1 search engine. I'll probably add a third lesson to this list if he ever finds this blog and reads about how much I don't prefer his car, and that lesson will be, think of better pseudonyms for your characters.


We went in, sat, ate, drank, laughed and talked about everything over a course of three hours.  The biggest stand outs in my mind are our similarities regarding ambition, sense of humor and general disposition.  He laughed at my jokes and boosted my ego. 
Even though we had just spend three hours talking, we only had two drinks, so we decided to continue our "date" at Mint 820.  We each got one more drink, which he paid for.  After another hour of joking and laughing, the bar was closing, so we called it a night.  At the corner of the block, where we had to part ways, I gave him a lingering hug.  We separated but not completely and experienced the moment where you each think, "Should I?" Neither of us went in for the kiss.  I was holding steady, willing myself to not make the first move. 
But in the what seemed like forever before we pulled apart, I reminisced on the evening.  On the total of four hours that flew by and about how much laughter we shared. 
I was beaming on the way home.  I was happy to have shared a perfect evening with superb company, who was also quite handsome.

The successful column is making some headway :)
successful = 3
unsuccessful = still too many

Saturday, December 11, 2010

2 for 2

Picking up where I left off, I went out the next night (Saturday) to a friend's going away party.  The venue was low-key with some friends and some strangers - who ended up being friends.  Keeping with my open-minded theme for the weekend, I talked with everybody.  I was actually having so much fun that I didn't even realize if i was or wasn't "looking"  I was just enjoying company, like minded individuals, good music and bailey's&hennessey.

After hopping around between a couple bars, making new friends, and visiting old ones, I decided to head home.  Though no number's were exchanged, I still consider this night at least 1/2 a success because I had such a freaking good time.