I will explain the name of this post a little later, bear with me.
Last night I felt like a stalker, a really big stalker, actually. While I was working out Gym Girl (GG from here on out, it's shorter) came in and immediately got onto a treadmill. Damnit, she snuck in on me.
GG rode that treadmill for a solid 40 minutes before I ran out of steam headed into the locker room for a shower. When I left the locker room she was still plugging away, sweating like a fiend but still looked sexy. As I left the gym I ran into the trainer and asked him if he knew her, he said "Yeah, sure, the tall one? She's a looker, isn't she! That's Kristen, she works upstairs at...", and told me the name of her company. This was good, at least I have a name.
Here's where the stalker part comes in. Of course I went back up to my office and Googled her. I didn't learn all that much about her, but I still felt like a sleaze ball. I generally have more balls than this and would just go up and talk to her, but I haven't had the opportunity. So, I've been reduced to searching a girls name on the web. What a douche.
I instantly regretted my behavior, the shame was overwhelming. I shot my (most sarcastic) buddy an email telling him what I did and if he thought I was a stalker.
Here is his response:
"That is a bit like a stalker. Give it time...you have to hit it right one of these days where she is off treadmill and you can comment on her endurance and get a feel for if she is one of those people that does not want to talk to anyone at the gym...if she is then you follow her home and hide in her closet until she is asleep."
Before you decided to report this to the police, he's only kidding...we always hide under the bed. No, seriously, just a little sarcasm.
Here's the background. One night in college D-Ron (the guy above) and my roommate Rock were playing video games in our friend Lohman's dorm room. Lohman hated when they were in there without him, so they locked the door. Later on they heard a key in the lock so they both jumped in his closet and hid. Lohman was coming from a Dorm dance with this hot chick named "Gorch".
D-Ron and Rock giggled hysterically while Lohman set the mood with music and then settled onto the couch with Gorch. Within minutes Lohman and Gorch were going at it, and the two dudes in the closet (literally, not figuratively) couldn't believe the Cuban Cinema they were getting. Gorch turned out to be a trooper and put on a real show for them. However, eventually their legs started to cramp so the carefully reached out and grabbed the phone, which was just outside the closet on the floor.
Lohman and Gorch were preoccupied and didn't see a thing. D-Ron called every number he knew, hoping someone could get them out of the room somehow. No luck, it was a Saturday night and everyone was out at the bars. D-Ron dialed a few more numbers, but after one call the phone began to ring after he hung up. Afraid Lohman would find them in the closet D-Ron just held the phone out of the closet on his two hands right next to the night table. Lohman answered the phone, and hung up when no one was on the other line.
D-Ron and Rock spent the next few hours inside a small closet sitting on shoes and dirty laundry while Lohman and Gorch went at it. Finally, Lohman walked Gorch home and Rock and D-Ron limped out of his room, legs cramped from sitting Indian Style for so long.
The next day at breakfast D-Ron and Rock asked Lohman how the dance was, to which he replied "It was OK". D-Ron persisted "Did you get any action?" Lohman said "No, we just kissed a little.". "REALLY? Are you sure you didn't get laid?" By now Lohman knew something was up and D-Ron and Rock lost their shit and began laughing. They told Lohman everything, and to this day they break his balls about the sappy music he put on.
That is the background behind "Hide in her closet".
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Gym Girl
I just walked back into my building from lunch and Gym Girl came in behind my friend and I. She's like 6'2" with heels on, she towers over me. I still haven't figured out how I am going to meet her. I was half-hoping she got on the elevator so I could say something to her. I was only "half" hoping because I generally become a full-blown retard in those scenarios and blow it.
Case and point: For a year I used to see the same girl at Dunkin Donuts each morning. She was always either way in front of me or way behind me in line. One morning she was right in front of me, though, so I kept trying to get her attention. In typical big-dumb-animal style I decided to take a pound of coffee off a free standing display and ask her if she had tried it. Instead, I picked up the pound of coffee, my coat sleeve caught the edge of the display, and I knocked the whole thing over. Bags of coffee flew everywhere and the whole store let out a collective groan. I was left holding the only bag that didn't hit the ground. If my body came equipped with a self-destruct button I would have pushed it then.
Case and point: For a year I used to see the same girl at Dunkin Donuts each morning. She was always either way in front of me or way behind me in line. One morning she was right in front of me, though, so I kept trying to get her attention. In typical big-dumb-animal style I decided to take a pound of coffee off a free standing display and ask her if she had tried it. Instead, I picked up the pound of coffee, my coat sleeve caught the edge of the display, and I knocked the whole thing over. Bags of coffee flew everywhere and the whole store let out a collective groan. I was left holding the only bag that didn't hit the ground. If my body came equipped with a self-destruct button I would have pushed it then.
Memorial Day Weekend
My head is killing me today. I didn't drink all that much last night, but I think it is the cumulative effects of five strait nights of partying. This morning my body reminded me that I am not 22 anymore when I was unable to get out of bed when my alarm went off.
My goal was to take it easy this weekend. I have trips planned for the next five weekends, so I thought it would be a good idea to conserve some cash and rest up. That obviously didn't happen.
Friday night some friends came over for dinner. It was low key but we managed to put away quite a few bottles of wine.
I spent most of Saturday on my bike. It was Rolling Thunder in DC this weekend, so there were bikes everywhere. I dusted off my Ducati and rode down to the mall to snap some pictures of some of the more exotic rides. It was cool to see the mall overrun by bikers. I found it a little sad, though, that most of the "bikers" seemed to be old rich guys wearing Rolex's. Maybe this is because the vast majority of the machines downtown were Harley's, some of which can cost upwards of $40,000 after all the chrome is added. It used to be that bikers were bad asses that rode everywhere for the camaraderie. I saw license plates from all over the country, but when I asked guys how long it took them to ride here, the response was usually "Well, we trailered them to Arlington, then it was a 20 minute ride in from there". Pussy.
Saturday night I went to a Nats game with some friends, then we ended up at the bars in Eastern Market. We started drinking around 4, so by midnight we were hammered. I must have drank a bottle of rum over the course of the night, compounded by many shots of Jagermeister. In high school we learned that when you drink the first thing you lose is your judgement. I usually think of that little factoid when I am ordering shots of black death.
In keeping with my lack-of-judgement I got roped into a conversation with three...let's just say they weren't attractive girls, there's no need to be mean. We had been to every bar on 8th Street and Pennsylvania Ave, and there really just wasn't any talent around, so I didn't mind that I was considering taking one of these girls home, I felt I had exhausted all other options. One girl was downright huge, one had bad acne, and number three was the lesser of all evils. She was short, a little heavy, and not attractive, but she had big boobs which I later motorboated. I talked to her for a while, and got her number, but in the end my friends talked some sense into me and I went home with a condiment caddy instead (sorry Ugly Mug). It was certainly the best decision I had made all night. I somehow dropped $250 at the bars. Nice.
Last night I went to a party at a friend's house. I talked to one girl for a while and then spotted that she had a tongue piercing. I haven't seen one of those in a while. She mentioned that she was an aerobics instructor, which made sense since that is probably one of the only professions that you can have a metal bar stuck through your tongue. About an hour later tongue-bar girl asked me where I went to school, and I in turn asked her, thinking she was going to say PG County Fitness Academy. Turns out she went to an Ivy League School and is a scientist. She teaches a few fitness classes a week. I felt like such a jackass.
There was one really cute girl there so I made my way over to talk to her. Within four minutes I learned that she was a cheerleader at Univ. of Florida, had her own law practice, owned a large house in Colorado, and was a member of some sorority that only accepted "extremely hot girls". Had I walked into a Twilight Zone episode, who gives a shit? I went back to talk to tongue ring, at least she was interesting. Cheerleader didn't like that she wasn't the center of attention, and proceeded to talk about her accomplishments in a very loud voice, so everyone could hear them. There was a hot tub at the party, I wanted to hold her head under water until her feet stopped moving.
I left around midnight and was up at 6am.
My goal was to take it easy this weekend. I have trips planned for the next five weekends, so I thought it would be a good idea to conserve some cash and rest up. That obviously didn't happen.
Friday night some friends came over for dinner. It was low key but we managed to put away quite a few bottles of wine.
I spent most of Saturday on my bike. It was Rolling Thunder in DC this weekend, so there were bikes everywhere. I dusted off my Ducati and rode down to the mall to snap some pictures of some of the more exotic rides. It was cool to see the mall overrun by bikers. I found it a little sad, though, that most of the "bikers" seemed to be old rich guys wearing Rolex's. Maybe this is because the vast majority of the machines downtown were Harley's, some of which can cost upwards of $40,000 after all the chrome is added. It used to be that bikers were bad asses that rode everywhere for the camaraderie. I saw license plates from all over the country, but when I asked guys how long it took them to ride here, the response was usually "Well, we trailered them to Arlington, then it was a 20 minute ride in from there". Pussy.
Saturday night I went to a Nats game with some friends, then we ended up at the bars in Eastern Market. We started drinking around 4, so by midnight we were hammered. I must have drank a bottle of rum over the course of the night, compounded by many shots of Jagermeister. In high school we learned that when you drink the first thing you lose is your judgement. I usually think of that little factoid when I am ordering shots of black death.
In keeping with my lack-of-judgement I got roped into a conversation with three...let's just say they weren't attractive girls, there's no need to be mean. We had been to every bar on 8th Street and Pennsylvania Ave, and there really just wasn't any talent around, so I didn't mind that I was considering taking one of these girls home, I felt I had exhausted all other options. One girl was downright huge, one had bad acne, and number three was the lesser of all evils. She was short, a little heavy, and not attractive, but she had big boobs which I later motorboated. I talked to her for a while, and got her number, but in the end my friends talked some sense into me and I went home with a condiment caddy instead (sorry Ugly Mug). It was certainly the best decision I had made all night. I somehow dropped $250 at the bars. Nice.
Last night I went to a party at a friend's house. I talked to one girl for a while and then spotted that she had a tongue piercing. I haven't seen one of those in a while. She mentioned that she was an aerobics instructor, which made sense since that is probably one of the only professions that you can have a metal bar stuck through your tongue. About an hour later tongue-bar girl asked me where I went to school, and I in turn asked her, thinking she was going to say PG County Fitness Academy. Turns out she went to an Ivy League School and is a scientist. She teaches a few fitness classes a week. I felt like such a jackass.
There was one really cute girl there so I made my way over to talk to her. Within four minutes I learned that she was a cheerleader at Univ. of Florida, had her own law practice, owned a large house in Colorado, and was a member of some sorority that only accepted "extremely hot girls". Had I walked into a Twilight Zone episode, who gives a shit? I went back to talk to tongue ring, at least she was interesting. Cheerleader didn't like that she wasn't the center of attention, and proceeded to talk about her accomplishments in a very loud voice, so everyone could hear them. There was a hot tub at the party, I wanted to hold her head under water until her feet stopped moving.
I left around midnight and was up at 6am.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Gym and Fat People
The cute chick was in the gym last night. She ran for well over an hour and never looked up from the TV screen. I worked out and left, I never had an opportunity to say anything to her. She has great legs, but no butt and no chest. She's cute, though.
Time for another rant.
I am generally a fairly accepting person, and certainly would not consider myself a bigot (in general). However, there is one group that I am intolerant of, and that's fat people. Actually, it's not even all fat people, it's morbidly obese people that don't take responsibility for their weight.
Example: Last year I boarded a plane from NY to San Diego. My seat was on the isle of a two-seat row. My "neighbor" was a 250-300 pound woman. She boarded the plane before me, and had been kind enough to lift the arm rest between our seats because she couldn't fit in just one seat. I would say that she was spilling into at least 1/3 of my seat, and when I arrived at the seat she didn't even look up at me. I wasn't about to sit in 2/3 of a seat that is already 50% too small for 5 hours. I told her that she either had to put the armrest down or find another place to sit. She was incredulous, but I didn't give a shit. Take responsibility for your "condition", if you can't fit into one seat buy two. Can't afford it, don't fucking fly, keep your fat ass in NY. Why should I be inconvenienced because you can't control your urge to eat?
Let's take a step back for a moment. I'm not heartless, if it was a woman with cancer and she had an IV bag that had to hang in my face for the whole flight I would be fine with that. She is sick, she didn't choose to get cancer (let's assume she didn't smoke). Fat people aren't sick, they're just lazy. In a way they choose to get fat by choosing to overeat. They know: fruit-good, cake-bad, but still pick the cake.
Let's face it, everyone knows how you get fat, you stuff too much junk in that hole in the center of your face. Here's a group that should be lined up and shot; the assholes who sue McDonald's because they sold them food that is high in fat! What, McDonald's isn't good for you? Who knew? This has to be the same group that hasn't heard smoking is bad for you.
Another example: I work with a woman who is gi-fucking-gantic. I would say she's at least two bills but she's only 5'1". I have spent weeks with her working on projects, sometimes 12 hours per day. In the morning she has a giant Starbucks coffee, but not just a regular one. She orders the huge thing with the whipped cream, and chocolate and carmel drizzled on top, then puts about half a dozen sugar packets in it. It looks like a Dairy Queen sundae. At lunch she orders a salad, but it's covered with ham and bacon and everything else on the buffet, and then is drowned in some cheese-based dressing. You can't even see the lettuce anymore. Then she has the balls to tell everyone at the table that she's doing so well on her "diet" and has only had a coffee and salad all day..."You had an eight fucking hundred calorie coffee!!!". Her salad has more fat than my cheeseburger.
What brought on this tirade is that yesterday in the locker room there was a guy in there that weighed about 300 pounds. He was so big that he was having serious trouble just putting on his socks. He was sitting on a bench in his tighty-whities with a sock in each hand trying to psych himself up to put them on. It was almost a gymnastic routine for him to swing his leg up high enough that he could grab his ankle and quickly throw on a sock. After one foot he was breathing like he was delivering a baby, and I stuck around for a while just in case he had a heart attack on the second one. However, this guy was taking responsibility for his weight. I've seen him in the gym before and he's working out. I felt bad for the guy and wanted to help him (workout, not with the socks). This guy knows that you have to exercise if you want to lose weight.
My favorite fat group are the ones that think there are easy ways to lose weight. The South Beach Diet, the Atkins Diet, the raw food diet, and all that other bullshit. "Oh, I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, but no bun on top, carbs are fattening." Bullshit, carbs aren't fattening, FAT is fucking fattening. If you're fat, and you think that carbs are fattening, your fat because you have no idea how to eat healthy. My ancestors ate pasta twice a day for 700 years, and none of them were overweight. They just ate reasonable portions and worked hard.
If you learn to eat right you will never have to diet a day in your life. Adopt a healthy lifestyle and you can eat as much as you want.
I was a wrestler for a long time, so I consider myself an expert at losing weight. Here's the secret - Burn more calories than you consume. That's it, it's very simple. If I wrote a book the title would be that, "Burn more calories than you consume". My book would have no pages because everything you need to know is on the cover.
"I don't have time to exercise". This is my favorite thing to hear. I once saw a billboard in the side of a runners supply store in Manhattan that said "Someone busier than you found time to run today" and showed an old guy running in the park at night. I love that billboard. Did you ever notice that fat people are always the ones waiting for the elevator while the fit people are walking up the stairs? Don't talk to me about time no time to exercise. Oh, and don't say that you have bad genes, or a slow metabolism. I suppose your bad genes prevent you from walking up the stairs?
OK, I'm done, go about your day.
Time for another rant.
I am generally a fairly accepting person, and certainly would not consider myself a bigot (in general). However, there is one group that I am intolerant of, and that's fat people. Actually, it's not even all fat people, it's morbidly obese people that don't take responsibility for their weight.
Example: Last year I boarded a plane from NY to San Diego. My seat was on the isle of a two-seat row. My "neighbor" was a 250-300 pound woman. She boarded the plane before me, and had been kind enough to lift the arm rest between our seats because she couldn't fit in just one seat. I would say that she was spilling into at least 1/3 of my seat, and when I arrived at the seat she didn't even look up at me. I wasn't about to sit in 2/3 of a seat that is already 50% too small for 5 hours. I told her that she either had to put the armrest down or find another place to sit. She was incredulous, but I didn't give a shit. Take responsibility for your "condition", if you can't fit into one seat buy two. Can't afford it, don't fucking fly, keep your fat ass in NY. Why should I be inconvenienced because you can't control your urge to eat?
Let's take a step back for a moment. I'm not heartless, if it was a woman with cancer and she had an IV bag that had to hang in my face for the whole flight I would be fine with that. She is sick, she didn't choose to get cancer (let's assume she didn't smoke). Fat people aren't sick, they're just lazy. In a way they choose to get fat by choosing to overeat. They know: fruit-good, cake-bad, but still pick the cake.
Let's face it, everyone knows how you get fat, you stuff too much junk in that hole in the center of your face. Here's a group that should be lined up and shot; the assholes who sue McDonald's because they sold them food that is high in fat! What, McDonald's isn't good for you? Who knew? This has to be the same group that hasn't heard smoking is bad for you.
Another example: I work with a woman who is gi-fucking-gantic. I would say she's at least two bills but she's only 5'1". I have spent weeks with her working on projects, sometimes 12 hours per day. In the morning she has a giant Starbucks coffee, but not just a regular one. She orders the huge thing with the whipped cream, and chocolate and carmel drizzled on top, then puts about half a dozen sugar packets in it. It looks like a Dairy Queen sundae. At lunch she orders a salad, but it's covered with ham and bacon and everything else on the buffet, and then is drowned in some cheese-based dressing. You can't even see the lettuce anymore. Then she has the balls to tell everyone at the table that she's doing so well on her "diet" and has only had a coffee and salad all day..."You had an eight fucking hundred calorie coffee!!!". Her salad has more fat than my cheeseburger.
What brought on this tirade is that yesterday in the locker room there was a guy in there that weighed about 300 pounds. He was so big that he was having serious trouble just putting on his socks. He was sitting on a bench in his tighty-whities with a sock in each hand trying to psych himself up to put them on. It was almost a gymnastic routine for him to swing his leg up high enough that he could grab his ankle and quickly throw on a sock. After one foot he was breathing like he was delivering a baby, and I stuck around for a while just in case he had a heart attack on the second one. However, this guy was taking responsibility for his weight. I've seen him in the gym before and he's working out. I felt bad for the guy and wanted to help him (workout, not with the socks). This guy knows that you have to exercise if you want to lose weight.
My favorite fat group are the ones that think there are easy ways to lose weight. The South Beach Diet, the Atkins Diet, the raw food diet, and all that other bullshit. "Oh, I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, but no bun on top, carbs are fattening." Bullshit, carbs aren't fattening, FAT is fucking fattening. If you're fat, and you think that carbs are fattening, your fat because you have no idea how to eat healthy. My ancestors ate pasta twice a day for 700 years, and none of them were overweight. They just ate reasonable portions and worked hard.
If you learn to eat right you will never have to diet a day in your life. Adopt a healthy lifestyle and you can eat as much as you want.
I was a wrestler for a long time, so I consider myself an expert at losing weight. Here's the secret - Burn more calories than you consume. That's it, it's very simple. If I wrote a book the title would be that, "Burn more calories than you consume". My book would have no pages because everything you need to know is on the cover.
"I don't have time to exercise". This is my favorite thing to hear. I once saw a billboard in the side of a runners supply store in Manhattan that said "Someone busier than you found time to run today" and showed an old guy running in the park at night. I love that billboard. Did you ever notice that fat people are always the ones waiting for the elevator while the fit people are walking up the stairs? Don't talk to me about time no time to exercise. Oh, and don't say that you have bad genes, or a slow metabolism. I suppose your bad genes prevent you from walking up the stairs?
OK, I'm done, go about your day.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Neighbor and Gym
I have mentioned before that I have a tumultuous relationship with my neighbor. We have had several disagreements, some of which have resulted in her threatening to sue me. I therefore try to keep a certain distance in our relationship. We speak now, and I am cordial to her and even invited her over to my party last weekend, but I try not to hang out with her socially. I simply don't trust her and don't want her involved in my life any more than necessary. I also find her to be opinionated and generally boring.
However, Neighbor is quite persistent, and has asked me on three occasions to a Nats game. I enjoy going to games, but not with her. So, three times I have made excuses and declined her invitations. I am really not trying to be rude but anytime we spend more than 15 minutes together we argue about something. I think she is either bi-polar or manic depressive, because she goes from friendly to wicked in seconds and without warning. At first I thought her invitations to the games were her just being friendly, but I think she is interested in something more. No chance of that, though.
On an entirely different front, I have seen a girl at my gym a few times that is really cute, and am trying to figure out how to talk to her.
My office building has a pretty nice gym that is shared with three other tenants (all lawyers). The gym isn't huge, but it's a good size and it's never crowded. Also, it's free, which is nice.
I am by no means a gym rat, I weigh 175 pounds soaking wet, but I feel good after an hour in the gym. I have been going to the gym four or five times a week for 14 years and have never gotten a phone number from a girl at the gym. I honestly believe there is no good way to transition from sweating and grunting to saying "So, do you think I can give you a call sometime?". My friends have done it, but I just think it's cheesy and have never really tried.
That being said there is a cute girl that goes to my building gym. I have seen here in there a few times. I think she goes to a fitness class then lifts weights for a little while after.
Two weeks ago gym girl was wearing a Gettysburg College t-shirt. One of my sisters, two of my former roommates, and the 10 guys a rented a beach time-share with for three summers all went to Gettysburg College. I probably know more people who went to Gettysburg than to my own university.
However, the day that she had on the Gettysburg t-shirt there were two dorky lawyers hanging all over her, so I didn't have a chance to talk to her. I usually see her down there on Tuesdays, so I am hoping to run into her today.
More on this later.
However, Neighbor is quite persistent, and has asked me on three occasions to a Nats game. I enjoy going to games, but not with her. So, three times I have made excuses and declined her invitations. I am really not trying to be rude but anytime we spend more than 15 minutes together we argue about something. I think she is either bi-polar or manic depressive, because she goes from friendly to wicked in seconds and without warning. At first I thought her invitations to the games were her just being friendly, but I think she is interested in something more. No chance of that, though.
On an entirely different front, I have seen a girl at my gym a few times that is really cute, and am trying to figure out how to talk to her.
My office building has a pretty nice gym that is shared with three other tenants (all lawyers). The gym isn't huge, but it's a good size and it's never crowded. Also, it's free, which is nice.
I am by no means a gym rat, I weigh 175 pounds soaking wet, but I feel good after an hour in the gym. I have been going to the gym four or five times a week for 14 years and have never gotten a phone number from a girl at the gym. I honestly believe there is no good way to transition from sweating and grunting to saying "So, do you think I can give you a call sometime?". My friends have done it, but I just think it's cheesy and have never really tried.
That being said there is a cute girl that goes to my building gym. I have seen here in there a few times. I think she goes to a fitness class then lifts weights for a little while after.
Two weeks ago gym girl was wearing a Gettysburg College t-shirt. One of my sisters, two of my former roommates, and the 10 guys a rented a beach time-share with for three summers all went to Gettysburg College. I probably know more people who went to Gettysburg than to my own university.
However, the day that she had on the Gettysburg t-shirt there were two dorky lawyers hanging all over her, so I didn't have a chance to talk to her. I usually see her down there on Tuesdays, so I am hoping to run into her today.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Party
Last week I decided to have a little party at me place on Saturday night. I usually have a Fourth of July party but I won't be around that weekend this year so I just picked a random night. Unfortunately, I picked a random night that poured all evening long, and the party was supposed to be in my back yard. It turned out OK, I just packed 35 people into my living room and kitchen. It was a little tight but luckily there were lots of smokers who spent a good deal of time on my tiny covered porch puffing away.
One of my friends brought two girls that I had never met before, we'll just call them Blond and Brunette. The two girls were essentially the same except for the color of their hair. Both worked on the hill, lived in my neighborhood, were cool, single, very tall and mildly unattractive. My friend had told me about Blond, and I think her plan was to fix me up with her, but I didn't find her attractive at all. Brunette was better looking, and tons of fun, but more on her later.
Also in attendance was Brazil. Brazil is a friend of a friend. She's from DC but moved across the country for a guy whom she married a few months ago. We hooked up several times before she got engaged (but while she was dating her now husband) so it's always interesting when I see her or him.
Side Note: Maybe I will discuss this in a later blog, but I always feel strange meeting the fiance or husband of a girl I've seen naked. I often wonder if he knows we hooked up, or to what extent. I chuckle a little on the inside because I usually had done something naughty to the girl. Conversely, it would drive me absolutely wild to meet a guy that used to date my girlfriend/fiance/wife because all I would be able to think is "this dude did something naughty to my girl". Such is life.
So, Brazil was in town without her husband, and was all dressed up and being very flirty. She was one of the first people to show up so we talked for a long time. I have never hooked up with a chick that was married and still living with her husband. I have slept with married women, but all of them were in the process of getting divorces and were living in separate houses. I realize this is a very minor distinction, but it makes a difference to me. Therefore, despite being somewhat flirty, I would not have hooked up with Brazil even if the opportunity presented itself. However, one of my friends later commented that he wouldn't trust Brazil as a wife at all because she always seems on the prowl.
I was running around all night filling ice buckets and trying to be a good host, but when I had time I chatted with as many people as I could. Blond didn't have much to say, but Brunette was easy to talk to and was very engaging.
At about 1am I was standing in the kitchen talking to someone when Brunette walked by and kind of swerved and bumped into me. She didn't just brush my shoulder, though, she full-on ran into my chest, it was like a hockey check. She said "excuse me" and walked around me and down the stairs. I made eye contact with another girl who saw what happened and we both laughed about it. At 2am I saw Brunette, her eyes were half-shut and she was slurring badly. The "check" now made sense, she was hammered.
Blond, Brunette, and three other people were the the last ones at the party, and we drank on my back deck (it finally stopped raining at 2:30) until about 3:30am. Blond was touch-feely by then, and Brunette was hammered but being very funny. It was at about this time that I wished I had the hot tub. I was drunk enough to overlook at the fact that none of the girls were very attractive just to see a little T&A. Close to 4am one girl asked where she could catch a cab, and I told her where, but I really didn't want her waiting on a corner at that hour. Blond had driven to my house, said she was sober (I didn't see her drink much, and she seemed fine) and said she would give one girl and another guy a ride home. Brunette said she was ready to leave as well, but she was unable to get up under her own power! Another dude and I hoisted Brunette out of her chair and led her to the stairs. We were afraid she would fall down the steps, so we sat her on the top step and she scooted down the whole flight on her butt like a little kid. It was the funniest thing I had seen in a long time, I loved it.
Blond seemed like she was interested in hooking up, and I think her plan was to be the "last man standing". By 4am I was drunk enough to hook up with her, but sober enough to know that it was still a bad idea. For once the big head overruled the little head (a very rare occurrence) and I said good night to her.
One of my friends brought two girls that I had never met before, we'll just call them Blond and Brunette. The two girls were essentially the same except for the color of their hair. Both worked on the hill, lived in my neighborhood, were cool, single, very tall and mildly unattractive. My friend had told me about Blond, and I think her plan was to fix me up with her, but I didn't find her attractive at all. Brunette was better looking, and tons of fun, but more on her later.
Also in attendance was Brazil. Brazil is a friend of a friend. She's from DC but moved across the country for a guy whom she married a few months ago. We hooked up several times before she got engaged (but while she was dating her now husband) so it's always interesting when I see her or him.
Side Note: Maybe I will discuss this in a later blog, but I always feel strange meeting the fiance or husband of a girl I've seen naked. I often wonder if he knows we hooked up, or to what extent. I chuckle a little on the inside because I usually had done something naughty to the girl. Conversely, it would drive me absolutely wild to meet a guy that used to date my girlfriend/fiance/wife because all I would be able to think is "this dude did something naughty to my girl". Such is life.
So, Brazil was in town without her husband, and was all dressed up and being very flirty. She was one of the first people to show up so we talked for a long time. I have never hooked up with a chick that was married and still living with her husband. I have slept with married women, but all of them were in the process of getting divorces and were living in separate houses. I realize this is a very minor distinction, but it makes a difference to me. Therefore, despite being somewhat flirty, I would not have hooked up with Brazil even if the opportunity presented itself. However, one of my friends later commented that he wouldn't trust Brazil as a wife at all because she always seems on the prowl.
I was running around all night filling ice buckets and trying to be a good host, but when I had time I chatted with as many people as I could. Blond didn't have much to say, but Brunette was easy to talk to and was very engaging.
At about 1am I was standing in the kitchen talking to someone when Brunette walked by and kind of swerved and bumped into me. She didn't just brush my shoulder, though, she full-on ran into my chest, it was like a hockey check. She said "excuse me" and walked around me and down the stairs. I made eye contact with another girl who saw what happened and we both laughed about it. At 2am I saw Brunette, her eyes were half-shut and she was slurring badly. The "check" now made sense, she was hammered.
Blond, Brunette, and three other people were the the last ones at the party, and we drank on my back deck (it finally stopped raining at 2:30) until about 3:30am. Blond was touch-feely by then, and Brunette was hammered but being very funny. It was at about this time that I wished I had the hot tub. I was drunk enough to overlook at the fact that none of the girls were very attractive just to see a little T&A. Close to 4am one girl asked where she could catch a cab, and I told her where, but I really didn't want her waiting on a corner at that hour. Blond had driven to my house, said she was sober (I didn't see her drink much, and she seemed fine) and said she would give one girl and another guy a ride home. Brunette said she was ready to leave as well, but she was unable to get up under her own power! Another dude and I hoisted Brunette out of her chair and led her to the stairs. We were afraid she would fall down the steps, so we sat her on the top step and she scooted down the whole flight on her butt like a little kid. It was the funniest thing I had seen in a long time, I loved it.
Blond seemed like she was interested in hooking up, and I think her plan was to be the "last man standing". By 4am I was drunk enough to hook up with her, but sober enough to know that it was still a bad idea. For once the big head overruled the little head (a very rare occurrence) and I said good night to her.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Awkward
I had my Mom in town this weekend for Mother's Day. Mom is an antique collector and all-around bargain hunter, so I took her to Eastern Market on Saturday. I was standing in the shade under a tent while she beat up some poor vendor about the price on one of his items when I spotted Kay walking by.
Kay is my friend Martin's ex girlfriend. I explained what happened to them in my "Long Distance Relationships and Cohabitation" post, so I won't go into the whole thing again.
So I saw Kay but she was a few steps past me by the time I figured out who she was, and decided not to say anything. A few minutes later I saw Martin's sister (who is also my buddy's wife), so I stopped her and said hello. We talked for a little while, and I mentioned that I saw Kay, and it turns out they were there together with a group of about five other girls. They all came over and we shot the shit for 15 minutes. I eventually excused myself so I could track down my Mom before she bought more crap than I could haul home for her.
This morning my buddy Chuck called me and asked me when I was going to ask out Kay. We had joked about this once before, but I didn't get the feeling he was joking this time. I said "Are you saying that because I ran into Kay on Saturday?", and he said "No, I am saying it because she's better than anyone you've dated in a while." This was a good point, but I still couldn't tell if he was being serious. Chuck said "Martin is OK with his, we asked him." Now I was really uncomfortable. Someone in my group of friends is trying to play matchmaker, I'm just not sure who it is yet.
Kay is very cute, and the few times we hung out I thought she was cool. I don't know much more about her than this, though.
I don't doubt that someone asked Martin if I could date his ex, and of course the only thing he could say is "sure", because he broke up with her. However, that doesn't really mean that he is all right with it. That aside, there are bigger problems.
The biggest problem is that while I am not great friends with Martin, I am friends with his sister and her husband, and I would never want there to be any bad blood between us. If they were casually dating this would be less of an issue, but they lived together so it was a etty serious relationship.
I am going to ignore the topic and see if it surfaces again.
Kay is my friend Martin's ex girlfriend. I explained what happened to them in my "Long Distance Relationships and Cohabitation" post, so I won't go into the whole thing again.
So I saw Kay but she was a few steps past me by the time I figured out who she was, and decided not to say anything. A few minutes later I saw Martin's sister (who is also my buddy's wife), so I stopped her and said hello. We talked for a little while, and I mentioned that I saw Kay, and it turns out they were there together with a group of about five other girls. They all came over and we shot the shit for 15 minutes. I eventually excused myself so I could track down my Mom before she bought more crap than I could haul home for her.
This morning my buddy Chuck called me and asked me when I was going to ask out Kay. We had joked about this once before, but I didn't get the feeling he was joking this time. I said "Are you saying that because I ran into Kay on Saturday?", and he said "No, I am saying it because she's better than anyone you've dated in a while." This was a good point, but I still couldn't tell if he was being serious. Chuck said "Martin is OK with his, we asked him." Now I was really uncomfortable. Someone in my group of friends is trying to play matchmaker, I'm just not sure who it is yet.
Kay is very cute, and the few times we hung out I thought she was cool. I don't know much more about her than this, though.
I don't doubt that someone asked Martin if I could date his ex, and of course the only thing he could say is "sure", because he broke up with her. However, that doesn't really mean that he is all right with it. That aside, there are bigger problems.
The biggest problem is that while I am not great friends with Martin, I am friends with his sister and her husband, and I would never want there to be any bad blood between us. If they were casually dating this would be less of an issue, but they lived together so it was a etty serious relationship.
I am going to ignore the topic and see if it surfaces again.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
No news is...no news.
Some say "no news is good news", but when it comes to my sex life I don't think that axiom holds true. I would much prefer to have lots of news.
I was in North Carolina all last week on business. I spent two days in Charlotte, one in Greensboro and two in Raleigh. I usually work my ass off when I travel because there really isn't much else to do. I treat myself to a nice dinner, but other than that I really only work and go to the hotel gym for an hour. Thus, the gym and dinner are generally the highlights of my trip. For dinner, I try to find a place with a large, crowded bar. Some restaurants look great, but the bars are dead, and most crowded bars have, well, shitty "bar food". There are just so many fried chicken wings you can eat in a week, so I try to find a place has both a good crowd and good food.
I went to my favorite Charlotte restaurant, Zink, on Monday night. Zink is where I met the girl who passed out while we were making out on her inflatable mattress. I know that lightening never strikes twice in the same place, but I like the food so I went back. The place was pretty empty so I had some sushi and crashed early. Similar evening on Tuesday.
On Wednesday night I got a hotel room in "downtown" Greensboro. There seemed to be a small strip of bars and restaurants four blocks from the hotel but nothing looked too interesting to me. I wandered off the beaten path a bit and found an Irish Pub that looked cool. I walked inside and took a seat at the bar between a few groups of people. The stereo was blasting Gaelic folk songs and the place smelled like a frat house, but I figured both were good signs in an Irish bar. The group on my left was a mix of about four girls and three guys doing a crossword puzzle with the female bartender. They were having a really hard time with what sounded like an easy puzzle ("I need a five letter word for a large body of salt water."). The group on my right was a pack of(heavy) girls who seemed far too drunk for 7pm. I had one drink and asked for my check, which came with another drink (I was charged for both). I slammed my unsolicited second drink and left before the bartender could bring me a third.
I walked around some more until I determined I was no longer in an area I should be walking alone in (by "alone", I mean without a gun). I turned around and back tracked a bit until I came to a small place called S.O.B. I looked in the window and the place looked crowded. I thought I could hear Jimmy Buffett playing, so I decided to try it. Sure enough, Jimmy was playing while a cute bartender served up raw oysters and hot sauce to happy (drunk) patrons. I bellied up to the bar and ordered a dozen raw oysters and a shrimp po-boy. I starting chatting with the bartender, a cute brunette with big boobs and a deep southern draw. I swore I had met her before, but she looked like every other chick I had seen in Greensboro, so I didn't think much of it until she said "Have we met before?". We finally figured out that she was the bartender at a restaurant I went to last year when I was in town. This was really not good news, as I recalled she was the worst waitress/bartender I have ever come across. She had improved since last year, but not much. At the end of the night some of the waitresses were leaving and they asked the bartender what she was doing later, and she said "I may let this guy take me on a date", referring to me. I kind of laughed it off, as I paid my check to leave. I already felt like some of the locals were not happy about my arrival, and I wondered if I would make it back to my hotel with my wallet, watch and face still on me. I thought it best not to provoke them by asking out the one cute girl in the room, so I grabbed my credit card and phone and left. In retrospect I think it was an easy layup that I missed out on.
Thursday night I was in Raleigh and was very excited to go to another restaurant I had found over the years, Prime Only. However, Prime Only wasn't able to survive the downturn in the economy and closed a few months ago. Too bad, the place was pretty good. I began walking around this small district with a lot of bars and pubs and spotted a strange place set back off the road. It was strange because it had no sign, but was packed. I walked up the steps, across the outdoor deck (which was jammed with women in short skirts) and into the bar. The bar was also packed with chicks and I wondered if it was a lesbian bar. I sat down, ordered a drink, and thumbed through a menu. The menu was mostly bar appetizers, so I eventually asked the tall blond next to me if there were any good BBQ joints around. She was really friendly and started rattling off BBQ pits within walking distance, including one place called The Pit. We chatted for a little while longer, and she introduced me to her group of friends, who were also cute southern girls. They had all just graduated from NC State last year and were still living in town. Then one of them asked me "So, how do you know Sarah?". I didn't recall any of the girls being named Sarah, but I figured I either forgot one of their names, or misunderstood it when she told me, so I said "Oh, we just met". This produced six sets of scrunched up eyebrows, and I knew something was not right. I tried to sway the conversation back to slow-cooked ribs but I had obviously said something wrong and they were a little freaked out. All I could think was "Shit, I bet Sarah's dead." I decided to finish my drink and get out of there. Before I could get my check someone got on the microphone and said "Sarah and Jake just pulled up, everyone quiet, sshhhhhhhh!" (she's alive, praise the lord, it's a miracle). Two minutes later Sarah walked and everyone screamed "surprise". When I asked for my check the bartender said "No, everything is on Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so this evening." I thanked the girl next to me for the BBQ recommendation and got out of there before I had to meed the birthday girl.
The draught continues.
I was in North Carolina all last week on business. I spent two days in Charlotte, one in Greensboro and two in Raleigh. I usually work my ass off when I travel because there really isn't much else to do. I treat myself to a nice dinner, but other than that I really only work and go to the hotel gym for an hour. Thus, the gym and dinner are generally the highlights of my trip. For dinner, I try to find a place with a large, crowded bar. Some restaurants look great, but the bars are dead, and most crowded bars have, well, shitty "bar food". There are just so many fried chicken wings you can eat in a week, so I try to find a place has both a good crowd and good food.
I went to my favorite Charlotte restaurant, Zink, on Monday night. Zink is where I met the girl who passed out while we were making out on her inflatable mattress. I know that lightening never strikes twice in the same place, but I like the food so I went back. The place was pretty empty so I had some sushi and crashed early. Similar evening on Tuesday.
On Wednesday night I got a hotel room in "downtown" Greensboro. There seemed to be a small strip of bars and restaurants four blocks from the hotel but nothing looked too interesting to me. I wandered off the beaten path a bit and found an Irish Pub that looked cool. I walked inside and took a seat at the bar between a few groups of people. The stereo was blasting Gaelic folk songs and the place smelled like a frat house, but I figured both were good signs in an Irish bar. The group on my left was a mix of about four girls and three guys doing a crossword puzzle with the female bartender. They were having a really hard time with what sounded like an easy puzzle ("I need a five letter word for a large body of salt water."). The group on my right was a pack of(heavy) girls who seemed far too drunk for 7pm. I had one drink and asked for my check, which came with another drink (I was charged for both). I slammed my unsolicited second drink and left before the bartender could bring me a third.
I walked around some more until I determined I was no longer in an area I should be walking alone in (by "alone", I mean without a gun). I turned around and back tracked a bit until I came to a small place called S.O.B. I looked in the window and the place looked crowded. I thought I could hear Jimmy Buffett playing, so I decided to try it. Sure enough, Jimmy was playing while a cute bartender served up raw oysters and hot sauce to happy (drunk) patrons. I bellied up to the bar and ordered a dozen raw oysters and a shrimp po-boy. I starting chatting with the bartender, a cute brunette with big boobs and a deep southern draw. I swore I had met her before, but she looked like every other chick I had seen in Greensboro, so I didn't think much of it until she said "Have we met before?". We finally figured out that she was the bartender at a restaurant I went to last year when I was in town. This was really not good news, as I recalled she was the worst waitress/bartender I have ever come across. She had improved since last year, but not much. At the end of the night some of the waitresses were leaving and they asked the bartender what she was doing later, and she said "I may let this guy take me on a date", referring to me. I kind of laughed it off, as I paid my check to leave. I already felt like some of the locals were not happy about my arrival, and I wondered if I would make it back to my hotel with my wallet, watch and face still on me. I thought it best not to provoke them by asking out the one cute girl in the room, so I grabbed my credit card and phone and left. In retrospect I think it was an easy layup that I missed out on.
Thursday night I was in Raleigh and was very excited to go to another restaurant I had found over the years, Prime Only. However, Prime Only wasn't able to survive the downturn in the economy and closed a few months ago. Too bad, the place was pretty good. I began walking around this small district with a lot of bars and pubs and spotted a strange place set back off the road. It was strange because it had no sign, but was packed. I walked up the steps, across the outdoor deck (which was jammed with women in short skirts) and into the bar. The bar was also packed with chicks and I wondered if it was a lesbian bar. I sat down, ordered a drink, and thumbed through a menu. The menu was mostly bar appetizers, so I eventually asked the tall blond next to me if there were any good BBQ joints around. She was really friendly and started rattling off BBQ pits within walking distance, including one place called The Pit. We chatted for a little while longer, and she introduced me to her group of friends, who were also cute southern girls. They had all just graduated from NC State last year and were still living in town. Then one of them asked me "So, how do you know Sarah?". I didn't recall any of the girls being named Sarah, but I figured I either forgot one of their names, or misunderstood it when she told me, so I said "Oh, we just met". This produced six sets of scrunched up eyebrows, and I knew something was not right. I tried to sway the conversation back to slow-cooked ribs but I had obviously said something wrong and they were a little freaked out. All I could think was "Shit, I bet Sarah's dead." I decided to finish my drink and get out of there. Before I could get my check someone got on the microphone and said "Sarah and Jake just pulled up, everyone quiet, sshhhhhhhh!" (she's alive, praise the lord, it's a miracle). Two minutes later Sarah walked and everyone screamed "surprise". When I asked for my check the bartender said "No, everything is on Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so this evening." I thanked the girl next to me for the BBQ recommendation and got out of there before I had to meed the birthday girl.
The draught continues.
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