I can haz cheezburger?

I know I shouldn’t be blogging this. I also know I was probably not in top condition to drive home, but I did that, too. So whee — what the hell?


So I wrapped up the day from hell by meeting some random guy at a bar. Because, you know, I don’t want to sit home alone on a Friday night and I’ll take my adventures where I can get them.

You know, all I wanted was some dinner. It was a real fuck-up of a day and all I wanted was a beer and a burger. But then he appeared and hey, I’m not one to pass up what could turn out to be something special.

So of course we hung out for, like, hours. I’ve done the whole meeting people in a bar thing FAR too often in my life. And it still goes pretty much nowhere, but I have enough self-esteem to not really feel obligated to care. And everyone at the bar thought we knew each other — all the barkeeps/male patrons kept asking if I were OK. I said I was fine and, despite the number of shots we’d consumed, I had enough judgment left in me to know this wasn’t going to go beyond the bar.

(Lord knows the guy, Jason, tried seven ways to Sunday to get me to go back to his condo. I’m no dummy — buy a girl dinner first. This is not a difficult hurdle to achieve. Any entanglement I had in which the guy didn’t buy dinner on the first date usually crashed and burned. I can pay for my own, but it’s a sign of respect for me. That’s all I’m looking for.)

I kept laughing with the other men there that all I wanted was dinner, god damn it. They loved me — kept a really close eye on me all night as Rico Suave tried very line/move he knew from the time I arrived till the time I snuck out with my to-go order. 🙂

I had more alcohol than I care to recount, but I’m a girl who can hold her liquor. (Although if you were watching me try to type, you wouldn’t exactly concur.) Rico Suave kept molesting me (no big deal; a girl needs some attention once in awhile) and buying me shots, so hey, I’m easy. 🙂 But then when he finally got the hint that, no, I wasn’t leaving the bar with him, he evaporated.

No big — he’d paid the tab, although I did ask the bartender to let me pick up the last round ’cause I wanted to order food and I wasn’t waiting for him to resurface. (He had been resurfacing, although I did get my food and hightail it home because I really do have to be up early in the a.m.!)

I met a STUPENDOUSLY nice guy after Jason left; he told me to come back and we’d just talk. Which is all I wanted in the first place, although admittedly, tonsil hockey is my favorite sport, even if I prefer it with people I know and plan to see again. 🙂

I appreciated all Jason did to try to get me hooked; I’m just looking for something more significant than he was after. And I’m not apologizing for that anymore. Although I do have to say, any guy who hints at a long-term relationship, marriage and kids is FULL OF SHIT if it’s the first meeting. The theory holds true. Anyone who’s brought all that up? Must have been counting on my ovaries aching at the thought of Happilly Ever After.

Yeah, good luck with that.

Not so much.

Don’t get me wrong — not the best kisser, but not the worst. And I didn’t mean to convey that I *wouldn’t* sleep with him EVER — just not in the foreseeable future. 🙂 If that made him leave, aww boo hoo!

He was just another one who seemed to click with me for awhile. Don’t they all? Everything seemed good, although the bartender said to me twice, “He’s a real asshole, don’t you think?” Hey, an asshole who shows interest in me tends to cancel out the asshole factor! 😉

It was kind of empowering, quite honestly. Because I felt in control, because I wasn’t looking at him as someone desperate or as someone who was charitably making out with me after a really bad day (and I’d thought my face was showing it). He told me a million times how beautiful he thought I was, how good a kisser I was (um, DUH) and how lucky he was to have me paying attention to him.

There’s a part of me that rolls her eyes and says whatever; the rest of me said, well yeah — I am smokin’ hot. Damn it. 😉 Apparently it’s obvious to more people than just me! LOL

Anyway, he went out to make a phone call; I ordered food; paid for the remainder of the tab and got my tipsy ass home.

All I want, God, is a real relationship. I am happy in my life; I just need someone to share it with. Someone who isn’t pawing me in a bar (although I admit I DID have fun) and getting mad because I’m no longer “that type of girl” — yes, we all know I once was. OK, more than once. 😉

I want something serious and real; none of this “maybe” stuff. I want to be able to show my face in that bar again. I want to go to art gallery openings and photography exhibitions (which we talked about because he’s a photographer) and meet their parents and get goose bumps when they kiss me “there” (and that could be anywhere, if done right!).

This whole scene is fun for a quick ego boost but it’s driving me MAD to not meet someone who’s on the same page as I am. I want fun and excitement and goose bumps and “eeky” moments when I hang up the phone. But I also want to know that I can be me and still have them pick up the phone after the newness wears off.

And god damn it, all I wanted was a fucking cheeseburger.

Which I did get, thankyouverymuch. Plus an invitation to come back and hang with some REAL men.

Which I will.

Drunk girl is going to go scarf her cheezburger now. I hope this entry isn’t bad ’cause I ain’t QCing it.

And yes, this is all still a swingin’ single if you’re interested. 😉 Ya know where to find me! And while I’m not as easy as I used to be, it’s because I’ve gotten very lucky so far (*knock on wood*) and would like to have as few regrets as possible. That and really, investing is something that interests me very much — why waste my Vegas money when I can put a bet on black (or red, whichever) and have a chance of winning what I really want instead of only what someone else is offering?

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