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Picking up guys

Lordy, where do I start.

Have been feeling a little down in the dumps today for some reason. Maybe it’s the lack of wine. Or pre-PMS. Or maybe it’s because the weather here is so damned dreary.

Awkward Positions

There’s also this little situation of unrequited love. Ok, I’m being a bit melodramatic, but yeah there’s this guy that I’ve been crushing on since I got here (he’s actually my fitness instructor…), and there’s a whole saga that I’m not going to go into (let’s just say that it was pretty, um, clear when he was helping me with my form that he’s also, um, shall we say “interested” in me…ok that sounds like he groped me. He didn’t grope me, but he definitely…reacted to me). The only issue is that the man has got to be in his forties (and I’m in my mid-twenties) so I imagine that he’s trying to avoid a sexual harassment suit. Which is the reason I’m giving for his not having asked me out (also the possibility that he is married). But it could also be these damned Scotsmen and their damned humility. People don’t have confidence here like we Americans do. In some ways it’s refreshing, but in others it’s just damned frustrating.

In any case, I’d do the deed myself but whenever I develop a crush on somebody I can’t manage to string two words together to form any kind of coherent sentence around them. It’s a curse, I know (and is more or less the true root of all my love problems). So yes, silent suffering. There is a gathering this weekend for our fitness group at a restaurant where we shall likely all converse and be normal people, so maybe that will be good, but maybe he won’t be there, I don’t know. In any case, I’ve done the other thing I often do in these drawn out situations: I’ve kind of gotten over it. That’s the worst. A situation arises that I might actually be able to take advantage of, but I’ve already given up hope on the man, and my attraction to him has started to wane. Oh well.

Art Projected

Then there’s this art thing that I participated in way back a few months ago and sort of did a half-assed job on. And it was for this really awesome dude that I totally respect and admire and if he were even slightly interested in me I’d totally have his babies, but he’s not, boo hoo. Anyway, he finished the art thing and sent out emails today to everyone involved in it, and of course it made my heart leap and I’m all missing home now. Goddammit.

I recently joined Match.com. This is the beginning of a beautiful thing.

Meet the First Round Contenders

Gryffindor – This gamer guy was so enthralled by the Harry Potter books that even though he “only read each one once”, every detail is “etched into [his] mind”.

Jimmm – A marine with a “top secret” job that he can’t tell me about. But he did put several m’s at the end of his name. Must be delicious!

Milwaukee – He’s 31 and ready to get married and have a baby. He works an office job, loves fine wines and might be gay.

Brown Trout – A snarky student with a picture of himself as a 5 year old and a penchant towards film. At least he recognizes a trout when he sees one.

Sailboat – This guy loves boats and things that go fast. He also seems to like fishing hats. Hopefully he’s not hiding a baldspot!

Mr. Ordinary –  He wears glasses and has a dog. He’s a Christian and a Gemini and his favorite things include friendship and great sunsets.

JonnyBoy– He’s a scuba diver with frosted tips and a healthy dose of narcissism. He likes jumping off of high places and diving into deep places.

Cars, Guns and Horses – This Louisiana Farm Boy is in the military, but says he has “an artistic side” and loves playing the blues. He bet me a date he could make me laugh.

Brusselsprouts – This Belgian Nuclear Engineer loves kids, speaks Flemish and seems a little shy.

Hapkido – He put himself through school by teaching Taekwondo and Hapkido. Now he’s a slightly balding zoologist who describes himself as “average looking”.

PunkRock – He’s a 29 year old bartender who loves punk music and singing in the car. He has ADHD, but is seeking a degree in accounting.

Canada – He’s a little formal, but he’s from Canada, eh! He claims not to be “as artsy as” me, but is sure we have a lot of shared interests.

It’s Saturday night after our department dinner, and we’re all walking back to our cars. Friday was my last day on the show, so I wanted to stay out and celebrate, but no one else seemed keen on having a late night.

“Fancy seeing you here”

As I’m walking by the downtown pizza place, I’m stopped mid-stride by one of the transpo guys on the film. “It’s my 10th anniversary!” He announced, swaying a little. Following close behind him were two women who looked to be about my age or a little older. One was his wife. The other one was my leasing agent at my apartment complex. For some reason, I wasn’t surprised to see her there.

“You have to come in and hang out,” she said, mentioning that a couple of the PAs from the film were there, too. One of the PAs, she said, “is so in love with you. You have to come in for a little while at least!”

Well that’s an interesting tidbit of info I didn’t foresee. This guy (we’ll call him Medi because he looks kind of Mediterranean) was the one guy on set that I didn’t think had any interest in me. Either my leasing agent is making shit up, or Medi is very good at hiding his feelings. To everyone but me. Because why else would my leasing agent know?

So of course I hung out for a bit

I wasn’t particularly interested in Medi, but I did feel like making a night of it, and I thought I might run into this guy later so I stuck around at the pizza place and watched transpo guy show us the same magic trick 14 times until they were all ready to move on to the next location.

As we walked out, transpo guy and his wife said their goodbyes, then my leasing agent and her boyfriend split off from us with the other PA, leaving me alone with Medi. Wtf, I smell a ploy. My leasing agent seemed simultaneously concerned and excited for me. I didn’t know how I felt about the whole ordeal, but I figured I’d let it play out. Probs not my wisest of choices.

“Oh, so you’re the wife?”

Medi and I walked up to the bar and immediately ran into someone from the show who then introduced us to his girlfriend. “Oh so you’re the wife?” she asked me. Uh, no. I ain’t nobody’s wife. And I’m definitely not this guy’s wife. I corrected her – perhaps a little too abruptly – then turned to Medi and said, “I just got mistaken as your wife.”

The girl’s boyfriend said to her, “No no, it’s [the other PA] who has a wife.” Then he turned to Medi and said, “So it’s you she likes? I thought it was [the other PA].” Umm, hello? I’m standing right here. Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I can’t hear you. Also, who started that rumor? Truth is, I never had romantic thoughts towards either of them.

Bad art and a loud bar

I’m not exactly a bar-hoppin kinda girl. I’m much more of a find a favorite bar and go there. All the time. As you may have noticed if you’ve read any of my previous posts. And my favorite bar isn’t exactly in the thick of things, so I’m pretty out-of-the-loop when it comes to going downtown. So, needless to say, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this bar.

As we walked into the bar, we were greeted by migraine-inducingly loud music and an array of bad art. Then we ran into two accountants from the show and I decided to get a drink.

Mystery solved

Medi and I had planned on meeting up with more people from the show, so I wasn’t too concerned about being stuck with him the whole night. I never thought I’d voluntarily put myself in that position. But as I was chatting with the accountants, this guy walked up to the group. And on his arm was the puniest little giggly thing I’ve ever seen in club attire.

So maybe I was predisposed to be annoyed at her because of who she was with, but she seemed like the kind of person I make a habit of avoiding. I’m sure you know the type – black club-y dress, metallic 4 inch heels, 5 feet tall and double-zero waist with long hair overly flat-ironed. I don’t think I heard her say a single word; she just giggled. A lot.

I’m starting to notice a pattern here. Guys who give me the angry stare are attached. This could mean one of two things: A) they’re annoyed that they’re attracted to me and their annoyance translates to anger or B) they think I’m into them and they want to keep me at arm’s length

Either way, angry stare guy was otherwise occupied. I noticed Medi standing by himself a little ways away, and I excused myself from the group and went over to chat with him.

So you like Picasso?

Somehow I found myself in an argument with Medi over the bad art that was on display all over the bar. Sometimes I think I form very deep opinions on things that should simply be disregarded. This was one of those times. I think I am too bull-headed for my own good. Maybe that’s why I’m single.

Anyway, it was kind of cute how Medi tried to impress me with this art talk, even going so far as looking up a specific painting online. In the middle of our discussion, giggly girl came over and tapped Medi on the shoulder to wave goodbye. She giggled as she pranced off.

We ended up on bar stools at a corner of the bar discussing who knows what until the bar closed. Quite frankly, I think I was enjoying it because he was so interested in learning about me. Everything I said or did impressed him, and there’s a certain bizarre enjoyment in being admired, even by someone you’re not particularly interested in yourself.

I need to learn to make decisions faster

Usually I am the queen of snap decisions, but when it comes to my love life I have a tendency to vacillate. So when Medi asked me if he could come back to my apartment my brain weighed the pros and cons: I’m not very attracted to him, but he’s a nice guy, but I’m not very attracted to him, but I haven’t been laid in 8 months, but I’m not very attracted to him, but there’s beer in the fridge…and on it went until he asked again and I sort of said, “well…” and then we walked back to my car and drove home.

So are you gonna make a move?

So we got back to my apartment and…nothing happened. We sat around listening to music and chatting for a couple hours, until Medi announced he was going to sleep. And, if I didn’t mind, he was going to sleep in my bed. “umm…” another one of those hesitating moments. “Is that OK?” he pressed. “Uh…I guess…” Then he spotted my guitar and started playing for a few minutes. I lay down on the bed and just listened, wondering how I’d gotten to this point – with this strange man on my bed playing my guitar.

Eventually, he put the guitar away, took off his shoes and crawled into bed in his jeans. “Can I turn that light out?” he asked me. I hesitated again. “Well I’m going to turn this light out,” he said, getting up and turning it out. As soon as he lay down, I said, “well alright then. I’m going to put on my PJs.” I deliberately left the light on in my closet as I changed clothes, back to him. Then I crawled in bed and kissed him.

Awkward hand jobs

“You know, I really thought you would have just gone to sleep in my bed without ever making a move,” I said to him after a minute.

“Did you really think that?” he asked.

“well…”

The rest of the episode involved too much awkward hand action, him getting my clothes off as soon as he could (which I never find to be a turn on – when a guy is too eager to see the clothes fly…maybe I just don’t like it because it makes me feel vulnerable and not in-control), bad breath, and him saying “I may not come.” That was kind of the last straw for me. I gave him a look and then rolled over and put my back to him.

What now

After a minute, I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I got up, put on some clothes and then went in the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Conveniently, my roommate moved out early, so there was another room with another bed in it. After I left the bathroom, I walked to the other room and slept in there.

When the sun came up (only a few hours later) I heard Medi talking on the phone, and he appeared moments later to tell me that his ride was there to pick him up. I had already gotten up and was pretending to make tea to try and lessen the awkwardness of me sleeping in the other room.

He didn’t seem to notice considering he asked for my phone number before leaving. I avoided kissing him when he left by giving him a hug instead. He called me an hour later, and I ignored it.

He apparently didn’t think anything was wrong

Judging by the fact that he asked me out to dinner before he left and then via text later that day, he apparently didn’t see anything strange in my behavior towards him. After he asked me to hang out the second time, I wrote, “Hey, I had a good time, but I think I need to spend some time by myself right now.”

I’m still not sure if I got the message across. At least he hasn’t tried to contact me since then.

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