Thirty-two

I could tell Thirty-two was trying to be his buddy’s wingman for a girl standing near me, so I decided to help out, too.  After a successful team effort with that, Thirty-two twirled me, I twirled him, and we started talking.  He was wearing a grey sweater with a red and white gingham checked shirt underneath and humorously asked me if it was okay to wear gingham.  I advised him, “This is San Francisco, so anything goes.  However, gingham is always okay when going to or from a picnic.  The real question is do you own anything that could be considered a man purse?”  He said the closest thing he had would be a laptop bag.  At some point during our conversation I asked him if the hokey pokey or the hand jive were in his top five favorite dances, to which he asked, “What’s the hand jive?”  “Really?!  How many times have you seen Grease?” “Uh, none.  I’m a man.” “That’s preposterous, what kind of man are you?”  Then I proceeded to teach him the hand jive.

A while later we realized his friends had deserted him, but we continued to talk until it was time for me to go catch my bus.  As I got ready to leave I asked him, “If we were to consider this our first date, when are we going on our second date?”  Thirty-two vaguely replied, “Oh, you. I’ll see you here next time.”  “Fair enough.  Until next time then.”  You would think that after talking for almost an hour I would have been irritated at his response, but I actually appreciate it because I've said something similar to that when I wasn't interested in someone.  The good thing is, I don't have to wait around and wonder if he's going to call.  Next, please.

Thirty-one

I was at a wine bar where there were three guys taking turns spinning Motown tunes.  Thirty-one was one of them, and I could not stop watching him.  Honestly, if I saw his picture I wouldn't have thought twice about him; not that he was unattractive, but I just wouldn't do a double-take.  However, as a DJ he had style.  The dude was in his own world dancing and having the time of his life with his hair flopping all over the place and his nerdy glasses constantly sliding down his nose.  Anyone who walked in and saw him couldn't help but smile and be inspired to dance.

One of the other DJs and I had met before, so when Thirty-one took a break Nick pulled us together to introduce us and said, "You both have sweet moves so I thought you should meet."  Five wingman points to Nick!  Unfortunately a few of Thirty-one's friends walked up then, and we got separated.  I had plans to meet friends elsewhere, so I quickly jotted down my information on a napkin and waited for the perfect moment to woo him.  My friend Rob was my lookout and as we danced he kept an eye out for when Thirty-one was free from others.  When Rob told me to go I walked up to Thirty-one and told him, "I'm heading out, but I think you're energy is fantastic.  You should definitely call me."  Then he awkwardly tried to put his arm around my waist (I say awkwardly because it seemed physically impossible for him to stop dancing - to which I can totally relate) and asked where I was going.  I replied that I had plans to meet friends, and he seriously tapped my nose with his finger and said, "Boooo."  I laughed and walked away wondering if this guy was totally spastic, drunk, a ball full of energy, or a combination of the three.  Either way, I'm intrigued and am keeping my fingers crossed that he'll be my dance partner.

30.1

I waited a whole five days to contact Thirty, and that is a huge accomplishment for me!  I sent him a message asking if he wanted to meet up for frozen yogurt, and he said yes.  I was feeling really good about this one while I waited for him, and then he showed up carrying a man purse.  Okay, I'll give him some credit and tell you it was a leather satchel, but still.  Here are the three strikes I mentally gave him for this accessory: (1) It's a man purse; (2) He didn't need it - he walked a whole six blocks from his apartment and went straight back there.  (3) I didn't even bring my purse.  Once I stopped myself from laughing out loud and judging him, though, I had a decent time.

After he paid for our yogurt, we decided to take advantage of the nice night and walk around the neighborhood.  Even though I didn't notice any sparks or major connections between us, I discovered that we both like to travel.  When he told me he was planning a trip to South America, I decided to share two of my favorite Spanish phrases with him.  Tengo tremendo culo (I have a great butt) is my go-to Spanish phrase, but he didn't think he would use that one too often.  The other phrase I like means "Why are you so ghetto?" but I drew a complete blank on how to say it.  I told him I would let him know whenever I remembered how to say it.  I honestly don't know what else we talked about, but there was a constant stream of conversation because I was in full-on ramble mode.

Finally he stopped in front of his building, so I thanked him for the yogurt and for meeting me.  Then in true Penelope style as I'm thanking him and saying bye I simultaneously jump giddily, slap him on the arm, and exclaim, "Que naco eres?  That's how you say 'Why are you so ghetto?'"  Thirty had the perfectly combined expression of entertained, confused, and terrified.  We started laughing and said good night.  In spite of my rambling conversation skills and random Spanish phrases he did tell me to let him know next time I was dogsitting in the neighborhood.  I'm going to label this one as a new friend.

Moral of the story: he carried a man purse.

Thirty

Thirty is a friend of a friend, and he comes into the salon regularly for haircuts.  Other than his visits there, I only see him every few months at social gatherings; however, when we see each other we casually banter back and forth about nothing of major importance.  I'm not sure how old Thirty is, but he gets bonus points for definitely being older than 23.  I can tell you that he's about 30% sparkly eyes and dimples, 40% charming, 15% player, and 15% arrogant.  For the time being, I have decided the twinkle in his eyes totally outweighs the player and arrogance portions.

He recently came to the salon for an event we had, and during our conversation we discovered that he lives a couple of blocks from where I dogsit.  This information obviously led me into telling him that we should do something, and I suggested an ice cream place in the neighborhood.  He exclaimed (seriously, he was enthusiastic about it), "Yes, I love that place! Let's exchange digits!"  Numbers were successfully traded, and now I will be patient before I text him (because, let's be honest, I'm always the first one to text)...luckily my work schedule has exploded, so I have less free time to be tempted to text (maybe I'll even seem mysterious, ha!).

Big Pimpin' in Nashville

Nashville is good for my self-esteem because I tend to have major game in this particular city.  I'll admit that my luck is partly due to the fact that the people I meet there are from out of town, have consumed a few adult beverages, and are ready to have some fun.  Regardless of the reason I hit it off with these people, I cherish the experiences!  In addition to dancing the night away with some of my favorite Hoosiers on this trip, I also made some new friends AND was the recipient of a few kisses.

Kiss 1: A guy was walking by me with his hand in the air for a high five to his friend, so I put my hand up for a five as well.  The guy (we'll call him Carlton because he was a horrible dancer) grabbed my hand and started dancing with me.  Without ever exchanging a single word, Carlton kissed me at the end of the song.  Great.  He also kept his arm around my waist to dance with me for the next two songs.  This wouldn't have been so bad except for the fact that he truly had no rhythm whatsoever.  I spoke the first words between us after three songs of awkward, off-beat dancing and thanked Carlton for the dances and told him to have a good night.

Kiss 2: We'll call this guy Rico because he was suave.  He and his friend started talking to Sarah and me, and at some point a reference was made about me being able to speak Spanish (for the record, I speak very little Spanish).  Rico asked me to tell him my number in Spanish because he wanted to call me the next day to meet up, so I gave him my numero de telefono en Espanol.  As we said goodbye, he pointed to his cheek and said, "Un beso." I leaned in to give him the requested kiss on the cheek, but he turned at the last second for a real kiss on the mouth.  Smooth operator.  Sadly, he never called me (or there's always the chance that I gave him the wrong number...I probably should have said the numbers in English).

Kiss 3: The band stopped playing just as I found the perfect spot to dance, so I told the guy next to me that I really needed them to play one more song because his group of friends and my friends clearly wanted to dance.  He asked me how I knew that, and I replied in a matter of fact tone that I was psychic.  "For example, that's your brother," I told him and pointed at a guy nearby (spoiler: I'm not really psychic, I just have better observation and hearing skills as a sober person among a group of drunk people).  He was impressed and asked me what else I knew.  While we were having this conversation I noticed one of his friends (we'll call him New York because that's where he lives) look over and point at me, so I said, "I also know that your friend over there wants to kiss me."  He beckoned New York over, said something to him, and New York gave me a kiss.  One of his friends walking up right then said, "Oh, come on, my parents kiss better than that."  This led to my friends on one side of us encouraging us to kiss and his friends on the other side agreeing.  Next thing I know he's dipped me and gives me a huge kiss.  There may or may not be footage of this event somewhere in the world.

Conclusion: I love Nashville because I always have fun and I feel pretty, oh so pretty when I'm there.