Dating story #68, Serial Dating: The Lindsey Story

Hey beautiful ghouls! 


Hope y'all had a spooktacular Halloween!  Have I ever mentioned that I LOVE Halloween?  I love dressing up. Getting to see what life feels like in something out of the ordinary. And I couldn't wait for this year, since I had decided to fulfill a life-long dream. 

That's right.
Wonder Woman.


I've been obsessed ever since my sister, BH, and I were kids in our Underoos.  Ps- look at her adorably chubbo legs!  And my nose scab!


Plus, for years the IT guys have taken to calling me "Wonda' Woman" (not exactly sure why-- boots maybe?).  So I decided it was finally time to reveal my alter-ego to the masses, at mega fun Halloween party last Thursday. Here's some pics!

I found my counterpart!

with one of my "bro" friends

Check the boots, y'all! 

It was a supa' fun night fo sho, but nothing can really compare to what's been going on lately.  So, instead of going into long-ass sagas, like I know you all LOVE, I'm going to give you the bullet-point catch up!

Girl's Name

Remember him? Hot, fun summer fling out in Fire Island? Yep, that's the one.

We would exchange occasional texts and I wrote to him when the "HURRICANE OF THE CENTURY" was threatening to slam into Long Beach, NY where I know he lives.  So, being the nice girl I am, I checked in to make sure all was ok.  He had just had major knee surgery and was recuperating from it and seemed very appreciative of my check-in, reciprocating with inquires about how I was doing, etc.  A nice little text-change, if you will.  And that was that till about a month later, he wrote me out of the blue:

HIM:  "hey, what's up. Sorry I haven't called but I've been recovering from knee surgery. Also as you might have imagined, my availability is a little different on the mainland than it is on FI. Hope all is well tho. Didn't mean to be rude."

[Cut to me wondering why the hell he was apologizing for not calling??]

ME: "No worries, I've been super busy. How's the knee?"

[back and forth chit chat about the knee. So I decided to invite him to this cool jazz open bar party at the Top Of the Standard, since he's a fellow music lover.]

HIM: "Hey, it sounds like a blast but I have a girl in my real, non-Fire Island life. Figured u should prob know that. Hence the statement "my availability is a little different on the mainland." That may change ur mind about the invite.  

[WHAAAT! Omg. Who would have EVER figured that out from those words?!]

HIM:  Oh also, if you could, hit me up during work hours.

I'm sorry, by "work hours" did he mean "scumbag hours?"  And, can someone please explain to me how this dipshit thinks he can justify what he did simply because he has a separate "Fire Island" life and "mainland" life???!!  

Seriously, it just never stops being entertaining does it?  

Next!

Scot

Clearly, I did NOT invite Girl's Name to that party at the Standard and figured it may be a good opp to meet some ad industry hotties.  

No dice.

So as I started out the giant windows at some of the most breathtaking views of NYC, absently sipping my free Goose n' soda, my eyes settled on something across the bar.  Something so hot, I wasn't certain it was actually real yet.

Thick, wavy dark hair.

Amazingly handsome, stubbly face.

Ruggedly chic clothing.

And, once he stood up-- TALL. Freaking TALL.  

I literally had to rub my eyes to make sure I was, in fact, seeing this. And then, he and his friend got up and walked toward the back.  I watched for a sec and then thought, "Well, I OBVIOUSLY need to go look at the view from over there!" So I got up and walked over, but alas, no sightings of him.  

One of the weirdos at the party asked if I had checked out the view from the roof and, since I had not, I went up with them out of sheer boredom.  We walked out to the roof and BEHOLD! There he was, taking goofy pics with his 

friend.

I went right in, harassing them on their poses and this worked me perfectly into their conversation. I then discovered this tall, dark and HELL-O you're HOT guy was also Scottish. 

What's with the Green Card Special lately?

And can we also discuss how the accent just made him more HOT, if that's even possible?

So, I sat down and talked with Scot on the roof for at least an hour.  During that time, we came to find out we WORK IN THE SAME OFFICE BUILDING.

Hold. The. Phone.

There is NO way this dude could work in my building within my agency, and I'd never seen him. There's no humanly possible way I could MISS him!  So we exchanged numbers with grand plans of meeting up for lunch, etc the following week.

The bar then shooed everyone out as they do at 10p every night so we left. Downstairs, he implied he needed to hang with his friend as he was in town from Paris. I was sad to leave since we were having so much fun, but I understood plus I was starving and needed to eat, so we said goodbye. 

10 whole minutes later, Scot texted me "Hey let me know if you want to hang out after you eat a bite."

Umm...why did we just leave each other?!

I decided not to question it.

I told him to meet me at Mother's Ruin in 30 mins. And, he did.

We had a blast, he was great to talk to and after a little bit he even asked me, in his charmingly adorable accent, "Can I kiss you?"  Ummm...yes please NOW!

Yum!

I was loving it all. But of course, it was nearing 1a on a weeknight and I decided to be responsible [for a change] and go home.  He was leaving town the next day for the weekend but we talked about meeting up the following week.

And then?

Nothing.

Radio Silence.

NOTHING!!!!

I even asked my security guard at work (who I love to death!) what the deal was. If this guy was like a dragon or the Tooth Fairy or some shit, but apparently he really DOES work in the building.   

Eventually, I let it go.  Until last week.  When he texted me.

One month later.

At 1:41am.

Really, dude?  No, like REALLY really?  

What did it say, you ask?  

"Whassup stranger?"

Oh you wanna know whassup, Scot? I'd LOVE to tell you, but I promised my mother I'd stop using that kind of language.

MORON!

Next!

ROC

Roc may be one of the nicest guys I have ever met. Ever.  

Genuinely caring. Smart. Successful. Incredibly hard working in finance and technology.

Good dresser. Smells great. Always asks about ME, how I'm doing, recalling funny stories about my bosses. 

We dated consistently for almost 6 weeks.  

He never let me pay.

We talked or texted at least once every day.

It was perfect.

On paper.

In reality, as my ever-wise security guard said, "Dude just don't make yo water boil, huh?"

Nope. He sure didn't.

But it seemed so awful to have to end it.  Luckily, he was going on a 2 week trip to Russia and Prague so I'd have a little break to mull it over, see if I missed him and stuff.

Of course, I got distracted by life, other guys, NYC! I barely thought of him.

And, crazy enough, he must've felt the same way.

Haven't heard from him since he left!  

It feels strange but at the same time, we avoided an annoying and awky convo. So...cool! 

Next!

[to be continued....!]

  

Hell On Nails.

Happy Halloween, gorgeous ghouls!


Ah, how I've missed you!


So sorry for the MIA'ness. I just haven't had time to write.  Yet I have been accumulating some SERIOUSLY awesome stories for you to feast your hungry eyes upon!


I'm currently working on serving them up in a steaming cauldron for you, so until then, ch-ch-checcck this out!


What will undoubtedly be the hottest nail trend of the winter: 
the Manicure Le Smoking by YSL. 

An elegant, reinterpretation, of the French Manicure. Two deep black shades, one matte and one shiny. aka Tuxedo Nails.


Two words: Me. OW!


Get out there and be vicious, my vixens!


Back soon....

Dating story #67, The Calm before the Storm

***FIRST ORDER OF BIZ!***
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! http://www.saymedia.com/battle/band-10.html

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

Part I: THE CALM

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?

WRONG. WRONG. WROOOONG.

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.

Whatever.

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, um...you’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!!

AND NOW….

Part II: THE STORM

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?”

umm....HELLZ-to-tha-YES!

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

Dating Story #66, Total deBEACHery

 Summer is officially over.

{boo.}

Which means, I am officially BACK! 

{yay!}

However, prepare to receive some end of summer sagas because I’ve been savin’ em up for ya!

Let’s back that ass up to where we left off, shall we? 

After my crazy whirlwind trip to LA I came directly back to NYC and headed straight off to the beach for a week of Kismet Krazy-ness. 

I did a week (actually about 12 days!) out there last summer and it was pure bliss. Relaxing, fun and even a little bit boylicious since Teca met me out there for a few days of it.

This summer?

Entirely different.

When BFWB saw that I was taking that week out there he asked if he could join me.  I figured why the hellz would I want to be all sad n’ lonely out there for a week by my lonesome, since there seemed to be no real man-spects worthy of joining me this summer, so I agreed. 

The first night I was out there we were both exhausted and just relaxed and worked on some music. It was lovely.

And….that was it for relaxing!

The next night, BFWB's awesome roomie, TJ, who owns my favorite/deadliest bar, Mother’s Ruin (aka Lindsey’s Ruin) and his amazeballz gf, Cary, came out to join us for a few days and that’s when the beach house went from “RELAXING” to “We may need REHAB.”

First off, Cary was toting her beach read “The Secret” with her, you know that bullshit book about “everything in the universe can be yours if you just wish for it” or some shit.  That provided hours of entertainment/ridicule from BFWB. And, then there’s just the simple fact of sharing a beach house with 2 bartenders and a crazy Irishman for 4 days.  I’m pretty sure I can still hear my liver screaming from that.

We had an INSANE night out that Tuesday night.  And in Kismet, that’s not always easy to do considering there’s like ONE bar.  But oh yes, if there’s a way, BFWB and friends will be victorious.  Not to mention all the while, we were pulling all 6’5, 200lbs of BWFB around in a wagon 

because he sprained his ankle while playing tennis with me earlier in the day. 

That night ended with me having to drag his amazingly heavy ass back to the house from the beach where we thought it would be a good idea to go around 1am.  For the record, I passed out cold on the sand, woke up, dragged him back and passed out with all my clothes on like the classy bitch I am.

Now, you’re probably wondering why any of this would be a problem, right?

Well, as it turns out, SoCal had made plans to come out and hang with me that Wednesday for the day and I had been looking forward to it.    He was taking the early ferry out in the am and the last one back at night. 

When I went to meet him at the ferry at 10am, I was terrified that I may actually vomit on his shoes. Even better? He got off the boat and said “Good morning! I’m ready for a bloody mary!” [puke]

But, I managed to hold it together.  Well, if you count having the shakes and being 10 shades paler than normal as “holding it together.”  Seriously, I took my shades off, he saw my eyes and went “WHOA.” Yeah. Awesome.

Wanting to show off my quasi-cooking skills to SoCal (why, I’m not sure?) I proceeded to cook everyone a totally pimped out breakfast including pesto made fresh from our basil plants growing outside, poached eggs, herbed goat cheese on English muffins…Yeah. BALLER!

And, I couldn’t eat ONE SINGLE F’ING BITE OF IT.

In fact, at one point I smiled, said “I’ll be right back!” and ran to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain god.

UGGGH.

Luckily, I managed to combine the right amount of anti-hangover remedies to make a full recovery by 12p.  As in drinking a beer on the beach with all the normal people. Phew!  And, we had a blast.  It was the first time SoCal and I have ever really been around other people, in terms of each other’s friends and I had no idea how it would go, but he was GREAT. Got along so well, everyone really liked him…it’s really so strange why our relationship has never gone anywhere past this place it is now, but whatever.  I’m completely fine with it and he was an awesome bonus to a gorgeous beach day.  Not to mention a fun dual “water saving” outdoor shower to cap it all off. Weee!

He split later that night and I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen him since...Hah! No tears over here though. Like I’ve said many times before, he serves his purpose. Fine by me!

The next few days proved even more debaucherous than the ones prior, if that’s even humanly possible.  One night, most of us managed to get back a little before 3am, which is kind of crazy for Kismet. Of course, BFWB lapped all of us and rolled in around 5a. At about 6:30a I got up to pee, because apparently I’m a freaking elderly lady and can’t ever make it through the night without doing so, especially when I drink. Blah!  As I’m in the bathroom, I heard the front door slam as if someone was leaving. Um…where the F was someone going at that hour??  So I stumbled, bleary-eyed, into the living room to check it out. I looked through the half-window opening that leads to the front door and what did I see?

BFWB.

PEEING.

IN.

THE.

HALLWAY! 

Thoughts to self:

-Was he peeing into the recycling bin?

-Was he awake or asleep?

-Is he really, as I’ve wondered before, some type of wild animal and this is my confirmation???

As I pondered all of this, I also contemplated that I didn’t feel like being this awake yet and would rather deal with it when I woke up. 

At 10am I FLEW out of bed and ran to find BFWB, who of course had no clue what I was talking about and zero recollection of it. Perfect.

I made him go and inspect the recycling bin for evidence, yet—nothing.

Carpet? Dry.

Now, I KNOW what I saw. I did not make it up. My eyes did not play tricks on me.

And then…I glanced down to the right where Cary’s lovely beach bag was sitting.  Inside of it, rested her pretty sarong and copy of “The Secret.” All soaking wet.

With.

Pee.

Yes, folks. That’s right.

BFWB pissed on “The Secret.” LITERALLY.

I’m not really sure what’s much better in life than that.

Who can even make this shit up???

Le sigh...

And yet “The Secret” continued to play a role in my weekend….

Exhausted and partied out, the whole wrecking crew from the week finally departed the island on Saturday, leaving me with another couple who I’m quite fond of for the rest of the weekend.  However, I’m not quite fond of being the 3^rd wheel, even though they’re awesome about making me feel comfortable.  They went with me to the Inn, my fave [and only!] Kismet dive for happy hour to listen to a band before we headed back to make some magic in the kitchen.  As we were watching the band, my mind wandered back to Girl’s Name and the fun night we had in Kismet earlier in the summer.  I knew he was just visiting that one time and not a regular, and earlier in the week I had cooked up some crazy scheme about texting him something strategic that could possibly lead to him coming to visit me out there….and then, I came to my senses.  What am I, a character on Gossip Girl? Who schemes??!

Anyway, when we left the Inn to eat dinner I accidentally [on purpose] left my credit card at the bar so I’d have to go back and get it later, banking on the fact that my friends would probably pack it in after dinner, which would be WAY too depressing/-adventurous for Lindsey.  Plus I have a girlfriend who has a house out there and she said she’d meet me for a drink around 12a at the Inn.

I got there a bit before her and went back out to watch the band for a bit.  I glanced around to see who was hanging around and, lo and behold, there he was! Girl’s Name sitting right there watching the band!  Or, at least I was pretty sure it was him.  I mean, it had been awhile.  So I snuck around like a stealth panther trying to confirm if I was right, without him seeing me of course.  Once I was 99% sure it was him and that he was not there with any other girl, I made my move. Over text, of course! Who would dare do anything in person? The real reason was to see if he was even interested enough to text back. Plus, since my friend hates all the people in the bar [and most people in general], she insisted on sitting out in front with our beers, so I shot Girl’s Name a text:

ME: Are you in Kismet tonight?

HIM: Yep, at the Inn. You?

ME:  Yep! Thought I saw you. I’m out front.

HIM: I’m paying my tab and coming to find you.

ME [to self]: Awww yeeeeah!  Thank you, Universe for sending me some Grade A man fun!

And find me he did. 

Damn that is one good lookin’ dude, I must say! Tall, dark, sparkling green eyes.  Name of a girl be-damned, this guy really does it for me! Not to mention he’s way funnier than I remembered and we totally bonded over all the music we like.  He came back to the house and we had a blast.  Another 5am’er…sheeesh I really am too old for this shit.  I think I say that to myself at least every other day, if not every SINGLE day. 

Can someone decent please come along so I can get some fucking sleep???!!

It’s time for some more Botox, STAT.

However, well worth it.  I’d say that closed out my beach stay quite nicely.  Maybe there’s a little bit of merit to this whole “The Secret” thing after all.  Or, maybe I just got lucky. 

{yes, there’s a double-entendre in there, just in case you were wondering…}

That will do it for beach stories for the summer. But don’t worry…I’m already working on post-beach as you read this. 

Stay tuned my pretties!

Dating Story #65, One Wild Week

Holl-aaaa, FRIDAY!!


Getting that Van story outta the way really felt liberating and motivated me to keep the boat a' motorin!


Upon returning from the Canada craziness, I realized I had tix to Death Cab for Cutie at the Williamsburg Waterfront , a cool outdoor venue in Brookland with a sick view of our fair city right across the water.  Then, I realized I had no date/friend for this show.  I guess I had been holding out for something "magical" to happen, and then totally forgot about it.
FAHK!
So, I did the right thing. I asked SoCal.  
He responded immediately that he was getting back from Buenos Aires the day before and "Heck yeah!" he wanted to go. Sweet!
Yeah, yeah I know how you probably feel about him. But, remember the Love Compartment? Well it's still working out PERFECTLY, thank you very much. SoCal totally serves a purpose in my life, and it's random dates that usually involve seeing live music.  Honestly, it's kind of the perfect arrangement. 
Although it had been awhile since I had seen him, and before I got there I was kinda thinking about beginning to put him into the FRIEND ZONE. Why not, right? It may make it easier to hang out, i.e less pressure for him. Plus, he still kisses like a confused lizard and I'm pretty sure that's not going to change.
But of course, I got to the bar we were meeting up at and 
a) he had drinks waiting for me {Swoon!}
b) he's still pretty damn hot
c) he seemed genuinely really happy to see me!


Ah, shit. No friend zone for you, SoCal...YET.


So we had a few drinks and then strolled over to the venue, both catching each other up on what we've been doing. In a strange way, it was like talking to a familiar friend.  Guess it makes sense since we've been on/off hanging out since DECEMBER!  He definitely wins for longevity...kinda...sorta.
We got to the venue as Death Cab began their mellow rock crooning but we were more into the view, so we stood and watched the sun set over the City, and chatted with the band as our soundtrack for it all. Pretty awesome, actually!

It was a gorgeous night and we had a great time, over several  strong cocktails. We decided to beat the Brookland hipster-train traffic and left the show a few mins early.  When we got back to the city, it was still early and too dang nice out to put this Texas flower inside four walls.
So, even though SoCal's jet lag seemed to be setting in, undoubtedly helped by our drinks, he said he could handle one more.  We headed to the swanky and often douchy Gansevoort to hit the roof deck. [sidebar: gauge the douche factor by going to that link. Just do it.]  But once inside, SoCal spotted a pool table and decided he'd much rather do that.  I like me a good pool game every so often so I obliged. I also made friends with the bartender, a fellow Texan, who fell in love with us and thought it would be really nice to give us lots of free tequila-infused cocktails. Aye yi yi!
SoCal and I had some great pool games and I totally held my own (for awhile at least), which totally engaged his über-competitive side and, apparently, really turned him on. The flirting was epic and pretty funny.  
After awhile, we had our fill of pool and drinks (mostly drinks), and decided to walk out. I assumed SoCal had suggested the Douchevoort because of its proximity to his apt and desire to get me back there. But alas, as we walked out of the hotel he said "Let's get you in this cab!"
Oh. Oh- okay...yeah, sure....
He apologized for his jet-lagged state and I understood. I was quite drink-lagged by then and couldn't imagine what that must feel like coupled with traveling back from Argentina. Okay, SoCal. You're forgiven.
But the night was too nice, and I had flats on [not to mention a nice buzz on], so I exclaimed "No thanks, I'm walking!"
Him: From HERE? Lindsey, that's kinda far!
ME: Nah! I'm great! Byeeeeeee!
I gave him a quick smooch on the mouth and bounced off down the street.  I truly had no idea if I could make the walk all the way back, but I figured I'd go as far as I could. 
As I found myself wandering through the West Village, I realized I was passing right by Wilfie & Nells, a Wild Wednesday favorite spot, not to mention one with an extremely high success rate! 
Also, have I mentioned that my new favorite thing to do is sit at bars alone on a chill night (aka not weekend)? I swear, you meet the most interesting people that way, and it's almost like the pressure is totally off guys when they know you're alone, or "meeting up with a friend" [who is imaginary] in the case of that night.
Anyway, once I walked in I noticed a really cute guy waiting for the bathroom and, suddenly, I had to pee!
I chatted him up in line and he was very easy to talk to. Then, I pretended to struggle with the bathroom door--ok, it IS slightly like a giant barn door, so it's not that crazy. He chivalrously helped me open it and we exchanged some funny pleasantries.
Hot damn! I was totally going to find this guy at the bar post-pee.
And, that I did. He was with a group of friends and I held court with all of them. The more I talked to this guy, who we'll call Roc, the more I liked him. He was just easy to talk to and I got no tool-ish vibe from him at all. Just seemed like a cool, down-to-earth dude. 
However, if he was down-to-earth, I was balls in the air! I couldn't drink another drop at that point and knew I had to head home, STAT.  So I said my goodbyes and, thankfully, Roc had the good sense to get my digits. Woop!
He was going to Costa Rica the next morning for two weeks though, so he said we should try to catch up when he was back. No arguments here!
I floated home, laughing to myself at how an underwhelming end to a SoCal date (coupled with my insanity) had led me to meet a really awesome-seeming guy.
Roc and I texted a bit the next morning before he left town and he reiterated we should meet up when back. I like a guy who doesn't forget promises [ahem...6'4!]


I knew two weeks would be a long time and hoped Roc would remember me after such an epic trip, but then again, I had travels of my own to embark on.
I was headed back to Portland to finish the job I worked on there a few weeks ago and decided to hop on over to LA to visit bestie Jendel for the weekend, since it had been waaay too long.

Our beloved Bob!

Since I knew I'd be in LA, I mentioned it to Beans&Cheese earlier that week when we were gchatting. He seemed somewhat ambivalent and just told me it was "his boy's bday and it might be complicated." I was like, "It's his bday the WHOLE weekend?" To which he explained just Saturday night, big party, blah blah.  So I mostly wrote it off. I thought maybe I'd hit him up late night on Friday, but seeing as my brilliant ass locked the keys in my rental car in Portland on the way to the airport and missed my first flight to LA, I ended up getting in later and decided I really didn't want to devote time to anyone but Jendel on this quick trip.  Plus, she surprised me with a plan to see one of our Austin faves, Bob Schneider, playing that night at the Troubadour. Amazeballzmegafunsville! 
On Saturday, Jendel and I were headed to do our favorite sport, shopping, when I received a text from B&C inquiring how LA was treating me that weekend.
Whoa!
Color me surprised to hear from him on his own accord! Maybe he was going to tell me to stop by the party later??
Ummm...no. Just a lot of lackluster, non-conclusive texting ensued with no point at all really.  Later, a kinda lame invite came but at that point, I was beyond the point of caring. I was also beyond the point of buttoning my jeans due to wild dinner gorging, so I was pretty much done for the night, despite Jendel's encouraging me to go out if I wanted to. What a great bestie! But, I was in "F'k him" mode and also, food-coma mode. So, nighty-night for me!
I passed out at such a decent hour that I woke up at 7:30a wide awake. I looked at my phone to see:
-TWO Texts
-A missed call
-And a VOICEMAIL 
All from B&C!!!! 
Amazing how once his "boy's" bday party was over, he was looking for a Lindsey party!
I was looking for a Pepto Bismol party, but that's beside the point.
So I wrote him back, one of my fave moves ever:
"Hey, just saw this. Crazy night, phone died. You guys have fun?"
He responded 15 mins later, just a little before 8am, wanting to know all about my night, etc.  I kept it very vague and "too cool for school" and it was clear the effect it was having on B&C.
HIM: "What are you doing today?"
ME: "Not much. Brunch at 11."
HIM: "What are you doing until then?"
ME: "Um...laying in bed, I guess?"
HIM: "Nope, you're coming over."
ME: "Hah, you're funny."
HIM: "And, I'm serious. I want to see you before you leave. You're only 8 mins away from here!"
Yet...neither of us had a car.
So guess what he did? Called me a cab and PAID for it!
I felt like a bad high school girl sneaking out of Jendel's house sans shoes on, so as to not wake her and her BF with the creaky floor. 
It was definitely another one of those "Am I REALLY doing this???" moments, yet I have zero regrets.  I had a great time and was back just as everyone was waking up.  See how productive I am on the West coast?! 
All in all, a great trip out to the Left coast and a lovely lead-in to my week away in Fire Island. 
With BFWB.
And, friends.
You know, "frieeeends."


Stay tuned, faithful followers. The next couple stories are some GOOD'ns!


For now, happy laborious day weekend!  Try not to labor n' stuff.


xo

Dating Story #64, The Big Van Part Deux

You wanted it?
You're getting it!


The stirring conclusion to The Big Van. 


And


MUCH, MUCH MORE!!!


Let's pick up where we left off, shall we?
So, me n' Van, who are already several sheets to the wind, have about 2 more hours to kill before the show. 
CRAP!
But, the show must go on. And go on, it did.  
We went to a cool place nearby and settled in at the bar. Van is one of those people who likes to talk to any/all random people around us, which always makes for an interesting time.  All was fine and good when we were sticking to beer.  Then, Van, enticed by the mixologist bartender shaking up colorful concoctions, decided we should "try some o' them fun whiskey cocktails!"  
Batter UP!
The rest is [not shockingly] a bit hazy.  We headed to the venue to see a CRAZY SHOW by a half-naked fat dude screaming at me from a stage.  Apparently, I wasn't as well-versed in their tunes as I thought...
After we'd had our fill of hopping [yes HOPPING] around the floor for 45 mins, whilst feverishly avoiding the "PIT," Van leaned over and gave me the signal to get the hell out. 
PHEW!
During the show, he had gotten significantly more touchy with me, and we stumbled out of the venue holding hands, probably to keep each other from falling on our faces.  
Wanna know what's the most BANANAS part?
I was the more sober one.
That's right. ME.
[God help us all.]
My New Yorker instincts took over and I chased us down a cab back to his house. I didn't fully realize how wastoided Van was at that juncture until we got back to his place and resumed our positions on the couch.  Only this time, his leg massage got slightly more aggressive. 
FINALLY!
We had a slurry conversation in which he told me he thought I was "garrgeous" and "soo beaaaufull."
So I told him "I've had a giant crush on you for EIGHT years!" 
He said "ditto."
And then...I waited. And waited. And...yeah, waited.
Finally, feeling exhausted and in an expeditious mood I yelled:
"If you don't hurry up and kiss me, I'm gonna SMACK you!!"
He obliged.
AHHHHHHH!
Guess he doesn't think of me as a dude, huh?
We proceeded to walk up the death stairs to his bedroom and get cozy'd up in bed. And then?
HE. PASSED. OUT.
Awesome.
I laughed, went to wash up and spent a delightful night in the strong, spooning arms of the longest-running, unrequited crushe of my existence.
To say it felt great is a gigundo understatement!
I did have my worries about how things would be the next morning. What would he remember? Would it be totes awky? 
Luckily, I'm fairly certain Van was still half-intoxicated the next morning and when he finally awoke from his coma and returned from the bathroom, he pounced into the bed, stuck his nose into my shoulder and exclaimed "You smell like delicious!"
[cue giant silent sigh of relief]
So we had a nice, cuddly morning in Vancouver and when our heads had [mostly] stopped pounding in hangover protest, we dragged our asses out of bed and went to start our day's plans, which consisted of brunch followed by him taking me on a lovely ride on his boat to this little island he's told me about several times.
Once at brunch, Van took a turn for the worse. And then continued to experience what I like to call the "Hangover Waves." It's when you're wickedly hungover and, then you feel kinda better....and, then...NOT.  Repeat!
So this continued throughout the day, and I felt so bad for him.  It was truly like he had lost his "sparkle." He managed to still take me out on the boat and did the best he could, but something felt like it was missing. Like the minute we left his house that morning, the "magic" was gone and we were just back to friends.
I also think he has a lot going on in his life and some strange residual stuff with his ex-gf. Who knows.
And really, does it matter?
He lives in Canada. I live in NYC. And I see none of that changing anytime soon.
But we had a blast together and, in a strange way, I feel like I can "check that box" now {ooh, so many wrong jokes you could insert here!}, and keep moving on.
It was a fun, last minute fling-y idea and I'm glad I did it.
So....NEXT?


Oh yes, my friends. I am WEEKS behind on Adventures and/or MISadventures to tell you!
Thank you for reading and encouraging me to write.
I love writing this blog and telling you all my moronical stories, so I'm so glad you like reading them!
I only wish I had more time to TELL you all of them, but never fear. They are coming. Slowly, and surely.  You know, just the way you like it...


[cue single eyebrow raise]


Stay tuned! Hopefully more stories will be here soon! If anyone wants to do my advertising job so I have more time to write, please contact me anytime.


until then...I am not even spell-checking this and will have to add pics later!

Dating Story #63, The Big Van.

Okay, so I'm now going to stop apologizing for delay in blog writing. 
'Cause, it's summer. And shite is BIZZZEEE!  I'm sure it is for you too, so chances are you haven't even really missed me that much and I'm just beating myself up for no reason/Jewish guilt.


First off, I've recently been out n' aboot all over the place and every cute guy I meet is just getting YOUNGER AND YOUNGER.  Seriously- last night? 
Twenty-freakin-two!
Not to mention Venezuelan and MUY caliente! But still, can't go there. I feel like I may have to change this blog's name to 


"LINDSEY'S ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING"


Seriously, now.


Moving right along to story #63.


Several years ago, in the beginning of my career, my co-worker/best friend and I would get shipped off to Vancouver for these EPICALLY long Fisher-Price toy shoots. It pretty much sucked a big fat donkey ass, but what could we do? Three years in a row, we were out there for about a month at a time. It was enough for a 24 year old me to lose my shit.  So, I did what I do best: Made friends.
All the guys on the crew were the same every year, not to mention hilarious and attractive. Hell, they could have been dogs and I would've befriended them! Boredom is my worst enemy.
Luckily, they weren't dogs. Especially one in particular: Van. Not only was he quite the looker, tall dark and handsome (aka my type) with blue eyes, he was something that makes a guy even hotter for me: HILARIOUS.
Instead of dreading a long, grueling day on a set trying to make some pathetic Canadian toddler play with some dysfunctional toy for a horrid commercial, I would look forward to it. Bizarre how someone with a like-minded wacky sense of humor can change something for you.
And, I'd like to think maybe I made his day a little too.
But alas, I had a BOYFRIEND all of those years [who I later married. And, divorced.] But I behaved and we were just friends.
Friends who kept in touch- like ACTUAL phone calls, when people made those.
And of course iChatting and text and eventually Facebook when that emerged.  Through all those years we stayed friends, through my marriage, divorce, his girlfriend, etc.  
A few months back we were catching up over some form of internet chat and I must've asked if he was still with his gf. He replied "nah, she moved." 
Interesting.
He's always wanted to come to NYC and I told him again he was welcome now that he was a free man.
Yeah, sure, maybe, future, blah, blah kind of convo. Didn't think much more about it, until a few weeks ago when I found out I had to go to Portland for business and my trip was butting right up to a weekend. Hmm...
-West coast
-Summertime
-Van has a boat [sends me pics frequently from said boat]
-Good friend Tata in Vancouver for a shoot for a month, so...friend to see, place to stay (if I needed it).
Yes, my friends. The wheels were a' spinning!

So I hit Van up to see if he'd be around and able to hang with me. He was! However due to some FB confusion, I got nervous that he may have gotten back together with his gf so I felt the need to double-check on this. Not that I wouldn't have wanted to see him even if he was attached, but let's get real here. This isn't called "Lindsey's MISadventures in Friendship," now is it?  Right.

But how to ask this question without seeming insane? A-ha!

ME: "Also, will your gf be annoyed if you spend time showing me around?"

HIM: "I am sans gf. In other words, no one's the boss of me."

Oh yeah.

It's on like a backwards thong!

Pulled the trigger, bought the tickets, done and done. Why the hell not, right?

One day I will hopefully look back and think "I'm glad I did whatever the hell I wanted to when I had absolutely nothing tying me down." Let's just hope I survive to see that day.

In Portland, my colleagues and I had a lovely hour-long discussion about advertising (initiated by yours truly) with Jack McBrayer, aka Kenneth from "30 Rock" at the weird hotel bar. How random is that? AMAZINGLY nice guy, btw. Exactly as you'd expect him to be.

That was pretty much the highlight of my biz trip, and as it was wrapping up, I actually started to get a bit nervous about seeing Van. I mean, it don't think I've been back since '04, and we've never been single at the same time. Plus, what if he doesn't even like me like that? What if he just thinks of me like a "dude?" 

AHHH!

Am I really in my 30's and having this kind of internal dialogue with myself?

[Apparently.]

But Van offered to pick me up at the airport, so that was a good first sign. Plus I knew no matter what, I'd have a good time with him. Impossible not to.

He showed up at the airport and looked just as handsome as I remembered, only with just a few gray hairs beginning to show. Funny, I remember thinking that 11 years older than me was, like, a LOT when I first met him. Now, it seems like nothing.

He suggested we go immediately to a nearby bar on the water called "The Flying Beaver" to have the famous Canadian drink he introduced me to years ago called a Bloody Caesar. It's kind of like a Bloody Mary, only WAY awesomer.

As we drove over there, he made a wrong turn and got kind of perturbed with himself for it. I told him it really wasn't a big deal and not to beat himself up. After several cocktails in, he revealed to me that he knew EXACTLY where he was going, he just got distracted by my LEGS.

HAHAHAHA!!!!!

That may be one of the best compliments my legs have ever received. 

After several lackluster Flying Beaver Caesars, we set off for better Caesars and, my favorite, oysters. 

If you've never been to Vancouver, you should know the seafood is so fresh it practically swims up to the table and flops onto your plate. INSANITY.  The oysters are so good I had to be careful not to O.D. on them like I did several years ago. Not pretty.

Also, before the trip, I had a talk with myself that went something like this:

"Self, please do not drink too much too fast so that you drink yourself right out of the equation, like times in the past."
And, I really did somehow maintain my wits, despite a marathon of day-drinking!  Mostly because I stuck to beer, but STILL. Props to me.
While we were catching up, talking about music since we're both obsessed, he said "Hey! We should try to catch a show while you're here!" So we looked and found that Les Savy Fav was playing that night and we'd both been wanting to see them.  Since tickets were no longer avail online, we called and the venue told us to just come by at 8:30p and buy tix there. Done and done!
Since the venue was close to his home and it was already late afternoon, we headed over to that area.  Mind you, I still had NO idea where I would be residing for the night! He had never said "Oh, you should stay with me." And I don't ever assume anything when it comes to guys. EVER.  So I just rolled with it. And as we rolled up to his house, he told me to bring my bags in because there's a lot of theft in Vancouver, apparently.  So, I obliged. And, asked no questions. At that point, I'd had roughly 7 beers and 2 Bloody Caesars and figured I'd probably end up where my stuff was. Which, was exactly what I wanted.  [Check.]
We sat on the couch for awhile and I removed my boots to find horrible ugly sock lines on my legs! I couldn't hide my dismay of that hideous site on my only sexy lady feature!  So, when Van saw my unrest, he had me sit on the couch and he gave me an incredible leg massage.
HELL-O!
So...yeah. Maybe it's on?
He successfully got my legs back to working order, just in time for me to put my boots back on.  Road sodas in hand [ie beers-on--the-go], we got in a cab and headed to buy tickets at the venue in Gastown, or as I like to call it, "Junkieville!"
Okay, so the junkies hang out a block away from the swanky coolness of Gastown, but still.  There's some incredible "theater" happening over there!
So, we get to the venue to buy the tickets at 8:30p. And....they inform us the band will be on at 11:30p!
Oh.
So, we've been drinking ALL day.
Are stuck in Gastown due to previously-stated drinking all day.
And now have THREE hours to kill before the show.
No bigz.
TO THE BARS!
[Silent prayer: Hey, God. It's me, Lindsey. Please allow me to not get black-out drunk tonight and ruin things. I mean, besides my liver. A-men!]

Want more story? Stay tuned....