57 (aka Mustache)

While waiting for the bank to open this morning I stopped in for a hot chocolate (yes, I'm 35 and prefer hot chocolate to all things coffee) , and as luck would have it Mustache was working!  We immediately started talking as he made my drink, and he said that he had wanted to come by the salon and say hi but that he couldn't find the party invitation I had given him and had forgotten the name of the salon.  My brain interpreted that as "write your number down now," and I always listen to my brain.  As another customer walked in I quickly handed him the scrap of paper and said, "That's the salon info, and that's my phone number" and then told him to have a good day as I headed out the door.

When I left the bank ten minutes later, I decided I needed a lid on my drink for the bus ride to work (okay, really I just needed an excuse to go back to the coffee shop).  Mustache smiled and came over to where I was standing, so I instantly blurted out (smoothly, I'm sure), "For future reference, my number can be used for hair concerns, bike issues, and just because you want to see me."  He said thanks and told me that I was nice and awesome.  Then I went on my way for real.

For the record I know very little about bikes other than the fact that they typically have two wheels, but we had been on that subject earlier.  I had told him about the guy who refurbishes bikes as a hobby and then proceeded to offer my dust-collecting bike to him while he waits for one that he just ordered.  That's normal, right?  Offering your bike to a person with whom you've shared approximately 37 minutes of conversation.

Not Always Rico Suave

Fact: I'm not always smooth and quick on my feet.  My friend SS thinks that things I say to guys are pretty genius and has asked me to send her "lines" she might be able to say to someone now and then.  This brief post is to prove that my words aren't always winners.

I recently wandered into a coffee shop that I walk by nearly everyday.  This particular day it was raining and cold, so I decided to hide from the elements for a few minutes and grab a drink. I chatted with the two handsome and funny baristas while I was there (one has a beard and giant wooden gauges in his ears, while the other has a sweet mustache and a great arm tattoo).  The following week I stopped in to drop off an invitation for a party at the salon and give Mustache a tiny mustache comb.  His enthusiastic reaction was perfect and he immediately started using it right there.  Yesterday I stopped in to say hi (and maybe ask out Mustache).  Mustache was present and there were no customers, which should have made for the perfect date-talk environment; instead this happened...He thanked me again for the comb and said, "It's great for those mornings when," pause while he decided what to say, "my mustache is really messy in the morning."  I responded by saying, "Like bed head, except it would be mustache head!" Then as soon as that sentence was in the air I realized "mustache head" was a slightly awkward phrase, and then that awkwardness was magnified when he slowly replied, "Yeeeeaah, that's exactly what I was trying not to say."  Then I laughed, paid for my drink, and didn't ask him out for a date.

So, SS (and my other wonderful friends that might have me on a flirting pedestal), my wit and charm are not always polished, but even then I still walk away with a smile as I laugh at the situation.

Training Manual

My best friend thought I was in love with him when we first met.  Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but he definitely didn't know what to think about me when our friendship began.  We met because he worked at my favorite local restaurant, and our journey as friends was activated when he was polite and invited me to a house party at his place.  By now you know that if I have someone's phone number, I'm going to use it because I love people - whether I want to be friends with someone or if I have a crush on them; either way I enjoy forming relationships with the majority of people I come across.  Honestly when my friendship with Best Friend began I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I knew that he was a sincere guy who made me laugh.  My motto with most guys that make me laugh is "If we're friends, awesome; if something more happens, great.  Either way I'm happy this person is in my life." After a couple months Best Friend disappeared without any warning.  I went from seeing him a few times a week, to suddenly getting no response from him whatsoever.  I was bummed because I had no idea what had happened. A few months later he casually strolled back into my life like not a day had gone by since we'd last seen each other, and when he invited me over for dinner I told him if we were to be friends he wasn't allowed to just stop talking to me without any explanation.  He agreed, and then he declared we were going to be best friends.  We are.

The moral of the story is that when I meet people, guy or girl, friend-to-be or a new crush, I need to distribute a training manual on how to understand me.  Best Friend got a little freaked out by my steady stream of invites to karaoke, trivia, dinner parties, ice cream excursions, and the fact that I made cookies for him and his co-workers at the restaurant.  My enthusiasm can be overwhelming to the average person, but I don't know how (and don't want) to hide it.  A few other friends will attest to the fact that they may also have been a bit intimidated or scared when I energetically introduced myself while giving them a hug.  However, those same friends will tell you that once they got to know me they realized that my energy and nonstop invitations to do things are genuine.  Granted I might invite thirty people to the same event, but I TRULY want all thirty people to be there.  I don't want you to miss out on anything, and I do my best to make time for any number of events.  As far as making Best Friend cookies...I'm a giver.  It makes me happy to spoil people.  I'm constantly buying postcards and silly greeting cards because one of my favorite hobbies is sending people mail.  I love getting things in the mail that aren't bills, so I assume everyone else likes that feeling, too.  If you gave me a chance and embraced my intense and overwhelming ways, thank you...I'm ecstatic that you're in my life.

While I don't have a training manual in the works maybe little notecards to hand out with this kind of information could be helpful: My name is Penelope, and here's what you need to know...You might think I'm obsessed with you, but I really just think you're fun and want to get to know you.  I'm going to invite you to at least four events in the next two weeks (but I'll also be inviting everyone else in my phonebook so don't freak out), and there's a good chance that I'll have a gift for you next time we meet because I was either feeling crafty with my sewing machine or maybe I saw something in a store that reminded me of you.  Let's make the world a better place by being friends (and if you want to make out, I'm okay with that, too).

Fifty-six

I've been enjoying life with my friends and haven't bothered with boys for the past couple months, and it's been delightful.  With that statement out there, I will now confess that I gave my number out last night.  My friends and I welcomed Fifty-six to our dance party at the bar and found out that he was fun as he participated in our dance category game (i.e. be a kitchen appliance, be a farmer, be something from the aquarium...you know, just your standard dance moves).  We also learned that he was in town from Brooklyn for  a wedding and some DJ gigs, as in he was about to DJ a set for us.  My friends had to leave before his set was finished, but I stuck around and kept dancing until he was finished.  We talked and danced for a few songs, and then as I was about to write down my number and tell him to call me so I could be his SF tour guide, he asked where I was going.  I told him that I needed to go catch my bus, and he replied that if I didn't mind staying a little longer he could drive me home.  In retrospect, maybe I should have seen a flashing sign of "STRANGER DANGER" but I'm a pretty good judge of character and felt like I knew this guy well enough that I'd be safe (and I was).  So dance we did until the lights came on and the music stopped, then it was time for us to go.  We talked about music a lot and how he tries to not be obsessed with Star Wars but was excited to go see some Star Wars exhibit, at which point I told him, "Now, I don't want you to fall in love with me because you live across the country, but I do have a dress made out of Star Wars sheets."  Lovestruck instantly, I'm sure.

When he pulled up to my place we talked for a bit (and yes, kissed a lot, too - yay!), and I finally told him, "Not to be presumptuous, but seriously I love this town and have some free time this week if you want company on any SF adventures while you're here." Fifty-six frankly said, "Well, I probably won't call." I told him, "I like your honesty.  If you don't call, you don't call, no big deal." Then he saved my number in his phone anyway and kissed me good night.

Things I really like: honesty and kissing.

Fifty-five

I'm a pro at making first impressions; they might not be good, but they're definitely impressions.  Out with a few friends at a crowded bar, Marianne and I were left to hold our cherished spot when the others went to get drinks.  Fifty-five was standing nearby, and I recruited him to help us protect our territory.  Impression one: when he asked what he needed to do, I advised that he dance like a scarecrow and then proceeded to demonstrate how I thought a scarecrow would dance (I think this particular dance could be the next big thing...copyright pending).  Impression two: a guy nearby who was looking for a reason to talk to Marianne came up and introduced himself and then asked if Fifty-five and I were related.  I replied, "Well we were going to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but now you just made it awkward."  Amazingly fifty-five thought I was funny rather than strange and stuck around for a while and talked with me before going to find his friends.

Later on when he was leaving he came over to tell me bye, and I told him I hoped to run into him again.  When I was heading out soon after I stopped to talk to one of the bouncers out front, which equals me hugging him and chatting while I pretend to work there and stamp people's hands as they entered the bar.  It so happened that Fifty-five was out front talking to his buddies, and when he saw me he came over and asked if I worked there. I told him that sometimes I just like to give back to the community and volunteer my time, he laughed, and we started talking some more.  His friends left, and we kept talking for about twenty minutes or so before I told him that I had to go catch my bus but that we should continue this conversation.  I asked for his number and as he gave it to me, I also asked if he had a wife and ten kids.  He said no, and I followed up by asking if he had a wife and any kids.  His answer was that he had zero kids and zero wives.

Here's what I know about this guy so far: he thinks I'm funny, he has kind eyes (I realize that this is a silly thing to state; maybe a comment that someone makes about a neighbor in a Lifetime movie right before the character with kind eyes is arrested for a mass murder, but it's true that Fifty-five has kind eyes), he lives in SF but works in Berkeley, a bicycle is his main mode of transportation, and he has an amazing beard that is longer than my hair (I kid you not, this guy's beard is almost to his chest - simply put, it's amazing and it took all my self-control not to talk about it).

Fifty-four

Once upon a time there was an extremely drunk girl who overheard part of a conversation between two people on a first date.  What she gathered from her eavesdropping was that the guy had a girlfriend and was a cheater.  In reality she had heard the last line of a story I was telling about an interaction with a taxi driver that ended with, "I'm going to call your girlfriend and tell her you're being a jerk." Drunk girl's assumption was way off, and she insisted on glaring at me while asking Fifty-four multiple times if he had a girlfriend.  Awkward and hilarious with an extra helping of awkward (normally I can diffuse situations and charm people, but since she had concluded that I was a home wrecker I decided to live with her dirty looks and keep my so-called charm to myself). Luckily she stumbled away from the date in the first thirty minutes.  Fifty-four and I continued on and got to know each other after we laughed about that situation.  He's 29, skateboarding is his main mode of transportation, he's protective of his two younger sisters, and he has a genuine smile that could make you forget that you were in a bad mood.

This first date began at midnight, which could come across as sketchy but it was necessary because of scheduling and convenience.  We had been trying to find a time to go out, but I was out of town for a few days and then didn't have a day off when I got back and he had to work until 11:00 each night that week.  I went with some friends to hear a band one night, and Fifty-four and I made plans to meet up after he finished with work (my friends really wanted him to meet me where we were, but I decided listening to a loud band with said friends chaperoning us might not be the ideal scene for a first date). Instead I met him at a dive punk bar for drinks that we closed down and followed that up with pizza slices at 2am before our shared bus ride to our respective homes.

Maybe you'll recall the ballers on a budget from a while back; Fifty-four (fact: B.O.B. is how I've saved him in my phone) was one of those guys.  I ran into him again a couple weeks ago and decided he was a fun guy and that we should go out; he said he would really like that, so we made it happen.  He seems like a pretty chill guy who loves life, and I look forward to going out with him again.

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn

My brother and I are very similar in the fact that we love talking to strangers and making friends.  Over the weekend at our family reunion, he befriended some guys at the hotel bar where we were staying and introduced them to my cousins and me.  The first night I simply said hi and chatted for a few minutes, but the second night after all of my family had gone to bed I stayed up talking and being entertained by a few of the guys.  What I discovered was that apparently there is something about me that is charming.  The bartender proposed to me, the man with grandkids told me he would follow me back to San Francisco, the suitor said he had been talking about me since I smiled at him the day before, and all three of them offered to escort me to my room multiple times.  Fact: it's always fun being adored even if it's just pure silliness.

Before my brother wandered off the suitor kept complimenting me, said he wished he had asked my brother about me the night before, and wanted me to stay another day so he could take me out on a date.  I told him that he needed to work on his approach and not hit on a girl in front of her brother.  David pretty much rolled his eyes in agreement and walked away from us.  As the bartender, the grandpa, and the suitor playfully flirted and boosted my ego the suitor went so far as to whisper to me, "I'm going to be bold here..." at which point I politely stopped him and said, "It's great to be bold, but I'm going to stop you there.  I'm not going to your room, and you're not going to mine."  He laughed and said, "See, we have a connection; you already know me so well."

When it was way past my bedtime I bid the gentlemen goodnight, and the suitor asked once again if he could walk me to my room.  I allowed it but told him that he couldn't come in with me.  Outside of my door he asked if he could keep talking with me, so I led him to the stairwell where he proceeded to tell me all about his life (his childhood, divorce drama, his three kids, his job and how he is about to go overseas for a year for work).  Then we kissed...in a hotel stairwell.  Apparently I'm too much of a lady to go to a stranger's hotel room, however, not enough of a lady to stop myself from initiating a major makeout session in a hotel stairwell.  Classy.  Throughout that time of kissing and talking, he made several references to how much he liked me and wanted to keep in touch.  I told him I didn't think that was necessary.  I know that makes me sound like a jerk, but I didn't want to encourage his apparent thoughts that something was going to develop because I didn't see that happening.  I told him that we should keep it uncomplicated and just appreciate the fun hours we had.

Conclusion: I made out with a stranger in a hotel stairwell.  I really hope there weren't security cameras.

Walking on Sunshine (because being sad is no fun)

Fact: I'm doing all right.  After initially reading the "you shouldn't come to LA" email, I told my friend Rob that there was a 93% chance that I wasn't going to LA and asked him to please plan some fun to distract me from the potential sadness.  Bonus fact: my friends are terrific.  They kept me occupied and entertained with rafting, dinners, drinks, cookouts, and loads of silliness and laughter.  In addition to sweetly offering to punch Forty-nine for me (I politely declined those offers), they also drenched me with apologies and loving words that I think friends are required to offer such as, "He's missing out on a stellar catch," "Does he know that he just let go of the greatest girl," "You are amazing, beautiful, and strong," "His loss," "I hope he realizes his mistake before it's too late," "You are pure awesome and deserve only the best," "Didn't he get the memo that you're the best catch ever" and so on and so on.  If my ego was hurting at all before this, it was quickly mended.

I was busy and feeling fine (and by "fine" I mean that maybe my heart stopped for a second when my phone would light up with a call, message, or email in the hopes that it was him) until a week after it all happened when I had a day by myself while dogsitting; since I had nothing to divert my attention from the sadness, I made the silly decision to torture myself a bit and read through some of our messages from the past few months.  Sadness activated.  To distract myself from that downward spiral I turned on the TV and started crying when Fast and Furious was playing because he loves that movie.  I cried for a few minutes before I started laughing about the fact that I was crying over Fast and Furious because that's just nonsense.  I like to think Forty-nine had moments of sadness, too, though.  Not because I want him to be unhappy, but because it would be nice to know that he liked me enough to miss me and have second thoughts about his second thoughts.

Rather than being of the mindset of "his loss," though, I'm going to focus on the idea that both of us hopefully gained things while getting to know each other.  As I went through our messages one of my favorites was, "You are an interesting creature, Penelope. I'm glad we met."  I hope that he always feels that way because I'm definitely thankful that I met him.  However, if he didn't take anything away from our time together, at least now he has this blog to use as a reference for any future girlfriend who needs examples of why he's a great catch.

One of my friends said to me, "I'm hoping this is just one of those parts in a movie that has the viewer upset, but then it all works out with a happy ending." While I absolutely love that idea, I'm not going to sit around waiting for that scene to unfold.  I sent him a letter (along with a house-warming present that I had intended to take to him that weekend) briefly stating my feelings about "us" and eloquently quoting Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock.  And now, rather than sitting around with thoughts of "If only he had seen me shine at karaoke and dancing then he would have fallen for me for life" or pining away and waiting to see if he will respond to my letter, I'm going to do what I do best - live, dance, spread love to the world, and continue to walk on sunshine because I am surrounded by wonderful people and truly do have a fantastic life.

To be on the safe side I'll also avoid all Fast and Furious movies.

49.NotTheEndingIWanted

Play some Toni Braxton, get a tissue, grab some chocolate, and maybe drink some tequila because this might hurt a little.  You are probably expecting a fun post about the magical weekend I had in LA with Forty-nine and an official relationship status;  I had plans of writing something such as I had an amazing time, I have a boyfriend, and I'm going to quit this blog.  Instead I will (sadly) be writing about how I didn't go to LA and that my relationship status is officially single.

A few days before my trip, Forty-nine was out of the country for work and sent me an email stating that as much as he would like to see me, he didn't think it was a good idea for me to visit.  His reasoning was that while he's had a fun time talking and hanging out with me, he's looking for a serious relationship and doesn't think it's feasible with us because of the distance and our different lifestyles.  At least his reasons are consistent because those are the same concerns he originally mentioned when we first decided to keep talking after he moved.  He also said he felt like a dick for canceling our plans last minute and offered to either reimburse me for my plane ticket or pay for my hotel and taxi fares.

Maybe I should have seen this coming, but I didn't; all I saw was a guy that I really liked who seemed to feel the same about me, and I was already thinking about when I could see him again.  Since I wasn't expecting that email, my immediate reaction when I read it was, "Oh, shit" and then my entire body seemed to deflate.  I wrote him back and admitted that his email hurt and that I had been excited for a fun weekend with him where at the end of it I assumed we would figure out if we were going to become an official relationship (for the record, this was my first choice), keep it chill, or call it quits.  I admitted to him that I'm not against commitment, there's just never been any guy that I've gone out with who has made me want to pursue a relationship. Then he came along, and I liked him, dang it.  I agreed that his points about the distance and lifestyle differences are valid but that I was leaning towards the theory that I can overcome any obstacle.

I can't be mad about Forty-nine's decision because I told him from the beginning that if he changed his mind at any point about the trip to tell me.  We talked on the phone when he got back to California, and I had so many points and arguments swirling around in my head to convince him that we could make this work such as (a) Relationships aren't supposed to be easy.  If they were, then everyone would be walking around smiling and holding hands with animated hearts floating above them all the time. (b) So what if we're different?  That's what makes it fun and interesting.  As much as I like myself, I don't want to be with someone who is just like me.  However, when it came down to it all I could say to him on the phone was that I was sad (note to self: cross off 'emotional public speaker' from possible career list).  Forty-nine apologized several times and again offered to pay for my flight.  I told him I appreciated it, but that I made the decision to plan the trip and wasn't taking his money.  I definitely laughed a couple times during the call and told him I had no idea what I was supposed to say. "Good luck with life?" In the end, I simply said thanks for a great couple of months, that I had no regrets, and that if he ever needed anything that he could always call me, and I then ended it with, "Okay, well have a good night, I'm going to go be sad now."  I don't know what the standard protocol is for this kind of situation, but that was mine because I do like him.  Forty-nine truly is a fantastic guy who was nothing but respectful, generous, and sweet to me.

Since I kept the phone call brief and simple I didn't realize just how broken up I was until my best friend called me a few minutes later, and I instantly started crying while I told him what happened.  I laughed at myself for crying because Forty-nine is the first guy I've cried about since middle school.  I suppose the crying bit is actually good news because it means the sad emotion section of my brain and heart aren't defective, so apparently I am human; really, I didn't even realize my tear ducts were completely functional until that phone call.

What does this mean for me?  43% of me wants to be romantically optimistic that this is just a minor bump in the road for us because relationships aren't perfect, and that Forty-nine will wake up and realize that he wants me in his life.  37% of me thinks that if his mind is set then it's better that it happened now rather than later.  20% of me wants to stand in the middle of a country road and shout at the top of my lungs, "WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!?"  The only thing I know for sure is that I'm not going to sit around in the land of "what if" and analyze the situation wondering if I had done 'this' or said 'that' if things would be different.  That's not my style.  It is what it is - I fell for a great guy, but he had second thoughts.

49.Surprise

When I asked Forty-nine what his weekend plans were, he informed me that he would be in Oakland working on his rally car.  I wished him luck on the car and left it at that; while I would have loved to have seen him, I didn't want to get in the way of his plans - as much as I think the world revolves around me, I pride myself on not being clingy and people being able to do their own things.  So the next afternoon when Forty-nine walked into the salon unannounced and said hi, my face turned red and my heart skipped a bunch of beats.

He definitely wowed the girls at work because in the few minutes that he and I were outside, the salon was swirling with "is that him; did she know he was coming; he's cuuuuute" and other such comments, along with them staring at us from the window.  Forty-nine gave up on the car for the day, came back inside with me, and chatted with people until I was finished an hour or so later.  Sadly I had dinner plans with Rob and his family who were visiting from Australia, so Forty-nine drove me home and said he'd see me in two weeks.  At dinner Rob told me that I could have stood him up for dinner; I appreciated that and knew that Rob would have understood if I had done so, but I also pride myself in not ditching friends for boys.  As a lifelong single person my friendships are important to me, and I never want to take them for granted.  Plus, I adore Rob's parents.

The next morning I messaged Forty-nine that if he needed someone to ride shotgun on his 3-hour round trip of taking his car to a mechanic that I was available.  He said thanks but that he and his buddy were getting ready to take off.  An hour later as I was heading to my friend's BBQ, Forty-nine told me that  he changed his mind about taking the car and asked if I was free to do something.  He met me at my friend's place and we were social for a couple of hours over corn hole and food before he and I headed to the park so he could finally experience the roller skating scene that I love so much.  

Conclusion: He may sound too good to be true, but people at work and at the BBQ can confirm that this guy really does exist.

Upcoming Field Trip

Forty-nine and I are still talking, and by "talking" I mean communicating daily via gchat and texts.  I was also lucky enough to see him a few weeks ago as he passed through town after a race.  He came over and we decided to be lazy and just order in, watch a movie, and makeout until he had to catch his flight.  Four hours well spent.

A few days later I mentioned that I was thinking about making a trip to LA because I heard there was at least one cool person there and then asked Forty-nine if it was okay if I visited him (it's one thing for me to see him when he's passing through SF visiting other people or working on his car; it's entirely different for me to plan a trip to LA with the purpose of seeing him).  He said yes!  A few days later I mentioned possible weekends and they all worked for him.  Then last week on gchat he messaged, "I have weird, but unfounded reservations about you coming to visit me in LA.  I'm uncomfortable with it, but I don't know why.  Maybe it's because we haven't spent that much time together and I don't know what will happen.  Maybe it's because I like you and you intrigue me and I don't understand that at all.  But I would still like you to come down to hang out with me. I just wanted to come clean with my feelings right now, even if I don't understand them."

I tried to reassure him that we get along well enough that it would be fine and that the weekend would be an experiment.  He agreed with that and said he felt better after expressing his concerns with me and then offered to buy my plane ticket.  What?!  That was entirely unexpected.  I thanked him, politely declined, and told him he could buy me dinner instead.  Then we chatted about being nervous for the visit.  I told him I don't really get nervous, but that I did think it would be strange to be able to talk face-to-face and asked if it would be weird if I texted him while sitting next to him on the couch.  He said yes (glad I covered that).

Conclusion: As soon as I get my schedule in order, I'll be heading to LA for a weekend soon.  Wow.

My Reality with Guys

My friends have always been entertained with the interactions I have with guys when we are out, which was the inspiration for this blog.  When I had the goal of asking a guy out weekly, those interactions were slightly altered because I then found myself actually paying attention to the men around me.  In reality, without the plan of asking out someone, I don't truly register the person next to me when I start talking.  I'm famous for saying something to a guy who is within earshot and after the conversation is in play realizing that it wasn't my best decision (yet it's always entertaining).

Here are a few examples from the last week:

1. It was my first night back on the dance floor in over two months, and I was dancing up a storm with my friend Lexi.  Two guys were dancing with their friends near us, and I complimented one of their silly dance moves (fact: if you're a guy having fun dancing, you get points with me).  That one comment opened the door to all kinds of ridiculousness. First I asked about the tattoo on his arm and how many others he had; he told us he had eleven and proceeded to show all of his upper body ones while we danced.  Then his friend came up and asked, "Do you girls want a drink? How about a shot? Vodka? We have vodka in our backpack. Baller on a budget! Wanna meet us out front?"  We laughed hysterically, and I told him we were good, "Thanks, but we actually brought our own roofies. Baller on a budget!"  These guys kept coming back to us between their backpack vodka breaks, and every time Lexi or I would exclaim, "Baller on a budget!"  It was a great night.

2. Sara and I had just gotten to a bar for line dancing, and I was standing on the edge of the dance floor trying to find the perfect spot to two-step.  There were two guys near me on the floor but they weren't dancing, so I jokingly told them that they either had to make room for people who wanted to dance or start dancing themselves.  The tall, gangly guy with ridiculously spiked hair took that as an invitation to come woo me.  He gave me at least seven high fives in under four minutes and at the end of that time he got down on his knees to propose to me.  I told him I needed to think about it while I danced away and then avoided him the rest of the night.

3. An hour after the proposal, a guy was standing elbow to elbow with me and I asked if he was going to join in the dancing.  He showed me his one dance move of rotating his beer glass from one hand to  the other, I laughed, and he decided that he needed to be with me the rest of the night.  With his giant hoodie, hipster glasses, and beard he was harmless enough but apparently didn't know about personal space.  If you're going to stand that close to me for more than a minute, you'd better twirl me.  I danced, he followed me, and when "Wagon Wheel" came on I insisted that if he was going to follow me he needed to dance and twirl me around while I sang every word of that song.  The guy had no rhythm, which was helpful when he drunkenly tried to kiss me because his lack of rhythm combined with my twirl timing blocked that from happening.  I shot Sara a look and she came to my rescue and then scolded me about how I'm not allowed to start conversations without observing the person first.

Speed Dating, Round Two

When a Groupon came along for speed dating, four different friends forwarded it to me; I assume that's because I raved about my last speed dating experience so enthusiastically or because my friends are worried that I'm on my way to being a spinster.  Either way I bought the Groupon and had a great time again.  The vibe was very different this time because I wasn't on crutches, and the venue was at a bar with pop music videos being played loudly (the last one was at a chill bistro).  It really was hard for me to concentrate when songs like "Thong Song" were pumping in the background; I don't even like that song but I still found myself dancing in my seat.

I wasn't really wowed with anyone, actually that's not entirely true...I don't remember how one guy and I instantly started a conversation about shivs and shanking, but we did, and that instantly led to the topic of prison sex (All in jest.  I think).  It was impossible to have a normal conversation with him after that.  So he wowed me, but it was the wrong kind of wow. In the end I wrote down the name of two guys and was matched with one of them.  What I remember about this match is that he was an energetic Asian guy and we talked about shadow puppets.

What I took away from the evening is that maybe I should have a stenographer follow me around to monitor my conversations.

49.5 & Turbulence

Forty-nine was in town to do some work on his rally car, and we made plans to see each other before he drove back to LA.  He said he was picking me up in his rally car, and I automatically smiled and that smile turned into nonstop giggles when he arrived.  This is not his car, but I want you to have a vague idea of what the inside of a rally car looks like.  Those bars on the side?  Yeah, they're not attached to the door, which means I was cracking up as I tried to gracefully maneuver myself in that car with a walking boot while wearing a dress.  I felt like a bad ass as I buckled up my 5-point seatbelt (after he showed me how to do it) and we took off in the loudest car in town.  It was a gorgeous day filled with ridiculous amounts of traffic in the city, so we decided to finish the Bullitt chase scene that would get us away from the traffic.   

At the end of the chase scene we stopped for lunch, and then I decided we should go to Lake Merced in the hopes of it being less crowded than the park on such a perfect day.  We were in luck because there were more ducks around than people, and we accidentally found a sidewalk that randomly stopped in the water.  We politely talked for awhile like adults before we made out like teenagers - yep, we were those people that if I had seen us I would have muttered, "Geez, get out of here." Thankfully no one yelled at us and there was only an occasional ruckus from the ducks watching.  Finally we got control of ourselves and talked some more before he drove me home.

The next two days we were chatting nonstop - sometimes asking silly get to know you questions and other times having some exchanges on more serious topics.  In the midst of it all I was trying to convince Forty-nine that I wasn't perfect, and he was asking when he could see me again.  I told him he made my stomach flip in a good way with that question and we tried to figure out a time.  In the meantime, my friend that I went speed dating with was in LA, so I suggested that they meet up and talk about horrible I am.  At the end of the night Forty-nine told me that my friend had nothing but good things to say about me and that "My theory still stands: either you are not real, or I'm already dead :)"

The next morning I woke up and decided I wanted/needed to tell him about this blog.  I've watched way too many teen movies where let's say one boy bets another boy to ask the unpopular girl out on a date for the dance.  The boy takes the bet, ends up liking the girl, but then the girl finds about the original bet and drama ensues.  I don't like drama, and I wanted to maintain the honesty that Forty-nine and I had, so I opted to come clean about it.  This day will now be forever known as the time I held my breath for an entire day because it was touch and go there for awhile.  Partly because I told him right before I went to work and wasn't available to talk about the bomb I just dropped on him - not my best timing, but when I decide to do something, I do it then and there.  He asked if he could read the blog, so I sent him the link.  The first message I received afterwards from him was, "MVP, huh? Not bad :)" and I asked  if it was too painful or weird.  He replied that he was a little weirded out but it wasn't anything he couldn't recover from, and I thought "Phew, we're golden."  I told him I just wanted to be honest, and he said he appreciated that and admitted he would have been pissed if he'd found out about it later down the line.  Then I didn't really hear anything from him until he said that he was working on an email.  I hesitantly checked my email nonstop after that.  In the evening I still hadn't heard anything more from him so I sent him a message asking how we were, and he told me that he read them all.  Yikes!  I love this blog and don't think there's anything incriminating on it, but I'll admit it kind of freaked me out that he'd read all of the posts, so I started reading them all again while I waited to hear more from him.

By the end of the night we talked things out over the phone and addressed some of our concerns like that neither of us really knows what we want; we like each other, but we're both kind of hesitant about pursuing a legit relationship for different reasons.  We decided that the distance will help us take things slowly, and that we'll keep on talking like we've been doing. I'm going to continue with the blog (I got his permission for this) which is probably more than a little weird because he's going to keep reading it. Insert nervous laughter here.

Conclusion: We are back on track, but we have no idea where this track is heading.

Fifty-Three

I was the MC for a BINGO event the other night at a neighborhood bar for a fundraiser (I don't want to brag, but if BINGO MC was a profession I would own that job!).  I made so many ridiculous comments as I called out the numbers; for example, I might have said, "I-24.  I am not 24, but if you are there is a good chance I will hit on you tonight."  I also made way too many "ball" references; maybe people should not let me hold a mic for two hours.  At some point in the evening I requested someone to write a haiku about BINGO, and this is what I was given to read to everyone:

Gently grasping balls

Chosen blindly in a bar

She holds good fortune.

As I was packing everything up, Fifty-three walked over to tell me that I did a great job and that while he did not play any of the games, he wanted to donate some money to our cause.  I told him for that I would give him a personalized BINGO card with the haiku written down for him.  Then as we were chatting I told him I was going to write down my name and number, too.  I added, "But now I'm not writing down the haiku because that just seems weird for my name and number to be next to that poem."  In the meantime, one of my friends who had been drinking thought she would be a helpful wingwoman by adding, "She's been handling balls all night, so she has a lot of practice."  My face got a little red as I awkwardly laughed and handed him the card.  As he took it and said thanks he added, "I'm going to walk away and take a shot now."  I don't think I'll be hearing from him.

The Fake Finale

It has been 77 weeks since I started the fantastic goal of asking out one guy a week, and I've loved every bit of it!  Including 37 messages I sent on Ok Cupid in these 77 weeks I have asked out 89 guys in some form or other.  Here are some thoughts and tips from this experience.

There's the saying that you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince, and I will agree with that statement.  Granted I did not find a prince, but with most of these guys I knew right away that there was probably no long-term connection; I just wanted a story for my friends.  Connection or not, though, I had nothing to lose by talking to these men.  Most likely I boosted their ego, gave them a story for their friends, and I got a story and maybe even a date or a kiss.

I've always been a flirt, and that was usually the extent of my interaction with guys - flirt, make a new friend, and maybe get a random kiss.  For whatever reason I don't get asked out on a lot of dates, so with this project I've had to take my flirting to the next level and initiate dates.  One thing I have learned is that I'm still a procrastinator when it comes to this game.  Back in middle school anytime I wanted to ask someone to be my boyfriend, I would wait until the end of school on Friday (via a note or a friend, of course). My reasoning was because if they said no, I had the whole weekend to get over the rejection.  Now I find myself waiting until the end of the night, or in some cases the next day via email.  My rationale these days is that (a) I'm a chicken or (b) I'm having fun talking to the person and don't want to freak them out before it's absolutely necessary.  I've also discovered that I have no online dating game whatsoever, so after having only one date from Ok Cupid in a year I have deleted that account.

I've learned that going out by yourself is a strong way to attract men.  Apparently guys are more likely to approach you when you are alone because they are either (a) creepy or (b) perfectly nice and are just too intimidated to walk up to a group of girls.  Also, crutches and/or a cast are helpful - men really are drawn to that whole "damsel in distress" image.  Next, I'm a firm believer in the fun of speed dating; it's a hoot, and you should definitely give it a try at least once.  Finally, simply love yourself, relax, and have fun!  What have you got to lose?  If you ask out someone and they say no, you're not any more single than you were before you asked.

Enough of my deep thoughts.  I'm going to continue with this blog because I really am having fun with it. I might not keep up with asking out someone each week, but I promise I'll still flirt and make them feel uncomfortable.  Plus, I have just signed up for another speed dating event next month!  In the meantime, I've taken the liberty of reviewing the blog and creating superlatives for some of the guys.

Most amusing failed attempt - #3
Most confusing set-up  - #5
Favorite friend made - #6
Most bummed I didn't get a date - #9, #12, #35
Favorite line that I'll use again - #18
Best shocked reaction and longest chase - #21
Most ridiculous and memorable - Reverse (so ridiculous that I couldn't even number him)
Most drawn out courtship - #24
Most unexpected - #26
Most amount of promise turned to fizzle - #37, #43
MVP and worthy of a movie script - #49 (some of you will be glad to know that even though he moved to LA, against our better judgment 49 and I are still talking but have no idea what that means).

Update 40-52

The winning theme for this round seems to be location, location, location.

40 - We never went on a date, but he did stop by the salon twice, once for a haircut and another time to say goodbye because he was moving to New York.
41 - This guy told me he would see me around at our mutual friend's events, but that hasn't been the case.  However, I'm pretty sure I saw him walking down the street hand-in-hand with a lady, so it's all for the best.
42 - This was my attempt to ask a passing cyclist out for dinner.  Fail, but a funny fail.
43 - I think I really could have liked this guy, but he said his plate was too full for dating plus he was always in Sacramento for work.  I occasionally text him to see how he's doing which leads to a brief and friendly text exchange, but that's it.
44 - Oh my, I'm fine with not hearing back from this guy.  This was my OK Cupid date with the guy who was ridiculously polite (I honestly never thought I'd be annoyed by politeness).
45 - Random guy on the train who had a girlfriend.
46 - This guy still emails me to see how I'm doing, and I politely respond.
47 - I really did want to go dancing with this guy from OK Cupid, but the foot injury put an end to that date possibility because dancing seemed to be our only common ground.
48 - I gave this guy my number at trivia, but he never called.  Fail.
49 - You all swooned with me for this guy, but he's in LA now.  We're still talking, but I have no idea what the plan is with this one.
50 - Also known as Chub; he's still pursuing me and I'm playing this foot injury for all it's worth to keep him at bay because I don't think I'm interested.
51 - One of my matches from speed dating.  He's never replied to my email, so obviously he's hitting up all his other matches first and saving the best for last.
52 - My final speed dating match who was concerned that I wouldn't go out with him again. I said I would, and he said he'd call me. It's been over a week and he hasn't called. If he can't be bothered, then I can't be bothered.

Stats:
12 guys
Dates with 5 guys
2 almost date options until I got a cast
5 complete fails
3 guys who are no longer in SF

Possible conclusion: If I want someone to stay in the city, I shouldn't like them.

Fifty-two

In the midst of spending time with Forty-nine I managed to squeeze in a first date with Fifty-two, my final match from speed dating.  The only thing I remembered about Fifty-two was that he likes going to trivia, and that he was the guy I was talking with when Forty-nine gave me his number.  We met for a drink in my neighborhood after his guitar lesson.  He's been learning the guitar for a couple of years but has played the tuba since middle school and even traveled to other countries with an orchestra.  I teased him by saying, "The tuba - now that is a great fact.  You should always lead with that.  I'd date you at least a month for that." I truly have no idea why I let some words come out of my mouth.  In addition to being musical, Fifty-two has very diverse hobbies from sewing to refurbishing motorcycles.

Two hours later he insisted on driving me home even though I told him it was only two blocks away by responding to my argument, "Yes, but you're on crutches, and my car is right there."  On that very short drive he asked me, "What's your view on dating?  You made a comment earlier about dating me for a month, what did that mean?"  I appreciated his frankness and told him, "Oh that comment was just my odd sense of humor and you should disregard it.  My view on dating is that I don't really date.  I mean, I love meeting people and going on a date and getting to know them, but I'm just not that stereotypical girl who is looking for a relationship."  As I was saying this I decided I should learn how to rephrase that answer for next time so I don't sound so whorish.  As Fifty-two parked in front of my place he asked, "Okay, so does that mean I don't get to see you again?  Because I'd really like to."  I replied, "You seem like a very interesting guy, and I will definitely go out with you again."  I guess he liked that answer because he leaned over and kissed me.  We kissed for a minute, and then I pulled myself away, told him to have a good night, and he said he'd call me.

49.3 - .4 - Farewell

After our swoon-worthy second date, Forty-nine and I continued our routine of constant texting.  The next morning he asked me when I was free for the second part of the chase-scene.  I told him when I was available and added, "I feel bad taking up your time.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love spending the time with you, but I'm sure all of your friends want to have all the quality time with you that they can get before you leave." He generously replied, "Don't feel bad. I'm making my own decisions, plus they'll all get to see me at my goodbye party.  I like spending time with you as well.  Just bad timing that we meet as I'm leaving the city.  Plus I really want to finish the tour of the chase before I move, but I think I need to add more lookout points."  I responded by saying, "Okay, I'm fine with your friends being mad at me then.  Seriously, though, why did you have to give me your number, ya jerk."  "A good question.  And one I don't have the answer for, but I'd like to see you more before I go."  We made plans for Thursday, but then Wednesday came along and we decided we should see each other then, too.

Forty-nine was busy getting everything ready for his move, so we incorporated moving tasks into our third and fourth dates.  Wednesday he picked me up and we got ice cream before making a trip to Oakland so he could pick up his car.  Definitely not the most romantic date, but it was nice spending time with him and getting a good night kiss, of course.  We were going to finish the chase scene Thursday evening after he finished up packing; he picked me up and we ordered take-out and organized his life in piles and boxes.  In the midst of moving things around, he would walk over and say something silly such as, "You know what's better than packing?  Kissing." When we took a break to eat he asked me about my relationship history and he told me about his, and then he asked the serious question, "What happens after this weekend?"  By now you all know that I don't make it to relationship status, so when he and I first started talking I was thinking, This is perfect.  This guy is leaving in two weeks.  We'll go on a date, maybe it will be a fun story, the end.  Then he turned out to be a sweetheart to me, and I just ignored the fact that he was leaving and didn't think about the what-if questions.  When he asked me that, I immediately answered with a nervous chuckle and without thinking (which usually isn't a good thing), "I don't know.  I think Berkeley is a long-distance relationship."  He responded that he kind of thought the same, and being an unemotional idiot I didn't press it any further because, well, I'm an unemotional idiot.  By the time the packing was  all finished it was later than we expected and he asked if I still wanted to do the drive. I told him, "That's totally up to you since that is your goal.  I'm happy to go, but I'm perfectly content just staying here a while longer and talking." He agreed, but I told him he'd have to kiss me at least once.  We kissed and talked for the next couple of hours and at one point I told him, "Now I know what's going to happen after this weekend.  You're going to leave, and I'm actually going to be sad because you've been so great, and I've put you on a pedestal." He said, "Well, I do like being on a pedestal, so it's a good thing I'm leaving before you find out I'm an asshole."

Luckily before I found out about his goodbye party, I had already made dinner plans for that same night.  I say luckily because I can be comfortable and make friends in pretty much any situation, but I do think it would have been a bit odd to go to his party and tell people "Oh me? I know him because we've gone on four dates in two weeks."  Since I didn't make it there he came over this morning after he loaded up his car.  We had breakfast, I gave him a silly going-away gift, he said thanks for everything, we kissed, I told him I was going to listen to all of Whitney Houston's saddest songs for the rest of the day, we laughed, and then we said goodbye.

I'm a little sad, but I'll bounce back.  Four dates in two weeks, though, that's my longest and most successful "relationship" in three years.  Oh yeah, I'm moving up in the world.

Fifty-one

Fifty-one was the guy who left the biggest impression on me during speed dating.  Within those 5-7 minutes he gave me a hug, a high five, made up a fantastic story about how I injured my foot, and told me his address (he seriously lives 1 block away from me).  Out of all the men there, he was the one I thought, "Yes, this guy and I could get along and share lots of laughs."  However, my friend's thought was, "Um, I'm pretty sure he's gay and just came to support his friends."  Either way he and I wrote down each other's names down and were matched.

After my foot surgery I was told to stay off my feet as much as possible, so I decided I would be good and only leave my house for work and dates.  It turns out I don't like sitting at home (although I'm lucky to have amazing friends who come by and entertain me), so obviously I've been trying to go on as many dates as possible.  I sent Fifty-one an email asking if he'd like to go out and explore our neighborhood together.  That was a few days ago, and I haven't heard back from him yet.  Which is probably a good thing because maybe I should listen to my doctor and just try to be lazy.  On the other hand, Fifty-one did give me his address.  I kid, I kid.  I'm not that desperate for attention and entertainment to be the creepy girl on crutches ringing his doorbell.

49.2

I need to make sure my phone plan has unlimited texting since Forty-nine and I have been sending ridiculous amounts of messages back and forth.  At the end of our first date we had made plans to go to the park a week and a half later; apparently that wasn't soon enough because he asked if I was free on Tuesday.  Unfortunately I wasn't, so we made plans for Thursday instead.  Since he loves cars he asked if we could drive around the city following a chase scene from the movie Bullit.  The morning of our date we were finalizing the plans and he was going to pick me up after 7:30 on my corner.  I live on the second floor and going down the stairs on crutches is exhausting and daunting, so I decided just to wait until he told me he was near.  That never happened.  At 8:15 I asked him for his ETA and got no response, and at 9:15 I asked him what was happening and still didn't hear back from him.  I was bummed (partly because getting gussied up with crutches and a giant cast takes a lot of energy), but I figured there was a good explanation since he was the one initiating this date.

The next morning I finally heard from him, "I am so sorry.  I left my phone at work last night and didn't realize it until I was already back in the city.  All I remembered from your messages was 7:30 and 11th & Judah/Irving Streets.  So I drove around those blocks for an hour, but didn't see you at any point.  I did confuse a lot of your neighbors, though.  I feel so stupid.  I spent all day writing out the path of the chase scene.  I was focused on getting it done and out the door by 5 that I left my phone sitting on my desk.  Can I make it up to you? Are you still free on Sunday evening?"  I told him it was fine and that I knew something had happened, and it's partly my fault for being weird and not giving out my actual address and because I wasn't outside waiting.  Everything was back on track, and I gave him my address for our second try on Sunday.  Later that same day he asked how my day at work was, and I told him I had the day off and was relaxing at home.  He responded, "Crap.  Then my surprise of showing up at your work with flowers would seem silly.  Can I come by and drop them off to you?  They're really pretty, and I hate to waste them on the homeless guy on the corner."  Swoon!  He brought them by and apologized again for messing up the date.

Sunday came around and he took me out for a nice dinner before the drive around the city.  In the car we had a great time talking and singing to the 80's music on the radio.  We were halfway through the route of the chase scene when we stopped at one point overlooking part of the city, so we got out to enjoy the view.  Forty-nine thanked me for going on the drive with him saying it was something he'd always wanted to do but had never been motivated enough to plan it.  I told him it was my pleasure and that I was really enjoying myself.  Then just like in the movies he took one step towards me and kissed me.  Seriously, straight out of the movies!  He said that it wasn't part of the chase scene, and I told him I  would have been disappointed if it didn't happen.  We just stood there and kissed until we were both freezing.  By that time it was late, so we decided to call it a night and finish the drive later in the week.  He commented that he might have to add some more look out points to the route.  This guy is stinking precious.  This guy is leaving in one week.  Ugh.

50.1

Fifty was one of the guys from speed dating that I was matched with because we both wrote down each other's names.  All I could really remember about him was that I thought he had a good sense of humor.  When we started messaging back forth he definitely made me laugh by writing things like, "Greetings! I'm looking for a girl who just got a brand new foot." He was bummed that he had to wait a few days for me to recover from my foot surgery before we could go out, which I thought was endearing.  A few days later after he had been out drinking beers with his friends at a baseball game he sent me a message saying, "We're going out, and we're going to have an awesome time!  I'm tired of waiting." I told him I liked his enthusiasm, so he asked if I wanted to watch a movie that night.  Fact: it was 10:15PM on a Monday night at the time of this text message, so I said, "I'm a firm believer in first dates starting before 9PM.  Call me old fashioned."  So we set up a date for a few days later, and after that was settled, he said, "I'm stoked.  Full chub for sure."  {For those of you who aren't up on your inappropriate lingo, I will explain that phrase in the most delicate way that I can.  Chub is slang for a boner.  Yep, there's no good way to say that.  I know of one person in my life (now apparently two) that uses that phrase occasionally and he uses it in reference to a really good dinner at a restaurant, so it's not necessarily a sexual term, but I'm still not a fan of it.}  I responded to Fifty by saying, "Oh goodness.  You're cut off now."  He apologized and I told him, "For future reference when a girl talks about being old fashioned you should never reply with anything about a chub."  He definitely lost points for that, but since we'd already set up our date plans and he'd been drinking with the boys I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I met him after work for dinner and a movie and had a relatively nice time.  He is funny in a Jack Black kind of way, which could be obnoxious, but I haven't decided yet.  He made several references to our future dates, so apparently he thinks this is happening.  My crutches came in handy because when he dropped me off at the same time he was apparently leaning toward me and tried to put his arm around me, I was trying to maneuver my crutches out of the car so I had already turned away from him.  Luckily I didn't realize what was happening until I felt his arm on my shoulder, and by that time I was already swinging my leg out of the car.  I politely told him thanks for a nice evening, and he said he would talk to me soon.  I'll probably go out with him another time, but as my friend pointed out that since I had no urge to kiss him at the end of the date then I probably wouldn't want to next time either.  Fair enough, but I do like to give people a few chances to woo me.

49.1

Forty-nine and I went on a date the night after we met, and it was absolutely lovely.  He is from Boston, is 37 (As much as I like the younger guys, it is really refreshing when a date gets my MacGyver references.), has lived here for 6 years, is an electrical engineer, has the perfect sense of humor and an armful of tattoos, does rally car racing, and is moving to LA in two weeks for a new job.  Forty-nine had dinner plans that evening, so we just met for drinks beforehand and talked so much that he was late meeting his friends.  One of our topics of conversation was making a list of things he needs to do and see before he leaves the city, and I insisted that he has to go watch the roller skaters in the park on a Sunday.

When we left the bar he gave me a hug, and I told him that I had a lot of fun.  His response was, "Good, I did, too.  Want to do this again, let's say Sunday to watch the roller skaters?"  I looked down and gave my crutches and walking boot a disgusted look and had to tell him, "Since I'm having surgery on Friday, I sadly don't think I'm going to be up for anything on Sunday."  Without missing a beat he replied, "Okay, then we'll go next Sunday."  I smiled and said, "Next Sunday it is."

Forty-nine and I have texted back and forth pretty consistently about nothing in particular or too serious.  I love his sense of humor, and I'm excited to see him again!  I could say that it totally stinks that he's moving, but part of me wonders if I would be as interested in him if he were staying.  I'll be the first to admit that the way my brain and emotions work are idiotic.  Regardless, I'm having a fantastic time for now!

Forty-nine

Instead of hobbling around waiting for the speed dating event to start, I decided to sit at one of the benches near the door until it began.  Forty-nine walked in and looked around, so trying to be helpful I asked, "Are you here for the speed dating?" "Excuse me?"  "Speed dating, is that why you're here?" "Is that what's happening?  I wondered why it was so crowded.  No, I'm not...are you?"  "Yeah I am, it's going to be great.  You should sign up."  He said that he was just waiting for a friend, so while we both waited we made small talk and declared it my warm-up for the evening.  He asked me the concept of speed dating and if I'd ever been before.  I told him it was my first time and that the conversations were 7-10 minutes.  He decided that 7-10 minutes was too much time, and that 6-minute dates would be sufficient.  Forty-nine told me he couldn't be bothered anyway because he was moving to LA in two weeks for a new job, but that he and his friend would enjoy watching the awkwardness of the evening. When I was called over for the first round of dates, I told him good luck with his move and new job and he told me good luck with my dates.  The end.  Pleasant conversation with a nice man who is moving, but I was on my way to meet 22 new guys.

Halfway through the evening on about date fifteen, Forty-nine walks over to the corner where I was sitting, hands me a coaster, and says, "It was nice meeting you, I hope you have a great time tonight" and walked away.  I could feel my face turn bright red and the guy that was sitting in front of me just stopped talking for a second and then recovered by awkwardly saying, "Well, you seem to be doing all right."  I apologized and told him I couldn't explain what just happened.  On the inside I was just smiling and giggling from that unexpected event.

The next morning I started a fun text exchange with Forty-nine.

Me: You officially get five gold stars for the number delivery.  It definitely made the guy stop in his tracks and made me blush. Fantastic.

49: I didn't mean to bust up the party, but I was leaving.  I apologize for the number on the coaster; it seemed pretty cliche but all they had at the bar were black napkins and black pens and it all seemed a bit too goth.

Me: Are you kidding, that's my favorite story of the night.

49: How was the night overall? Do you think that my idea of 6-minute dating would catch on?

Me: I really enjoyed it because I love talking to strangers.  I think your 6-minute date idea would revolutionize the dating world. I could probably spare 6 minutes this evening if you wanted to test out your idea.

49: My idea is still in the prototype stage, but maybe it's time to bring it live.

Then we made date plans.  So yeah, I went speed dating and got the number of a guy who wasn't even there for the event.  I'll take it.

Speed Dating!

Oh, sweet speed dating, I think I've found a new hobby! If only it weren't so darn expensive I would probably go several times because I really did enjoy it.  I'm not sure where to begin, so let me just say that if speed dating was a sport, I would be the team captain.  Here is the overall breakdown of how the evening worked.  Everyone received a scorecard and a number.  On the scorecard you could write down people's names, take notes, or rate them from "Not in a million years" to "I'd definitely fancy a go."  The ladies remained seated through the night, while the men rotated on a 5-7 minute basis (the owner of the stopwatch did not seem to be very consistent).  In case people were really struggling with conversation, each girl was given three ice breaker questions.  I didn't use mine because (a) I didn't need to, and (b) they were lame. 1. When are you apt to get goosebumps? When I'm cold. 2. Describe something beautiful.  I'm looking at it right now. 3. What do you do on a cold day? Get goosebumps. 

My advice for when you go speed dating is to wear something to stand out (like my crutches and walking boot) and to write down something about each guy that you will remember two hours later.  At the beginning of the night I wrote down the guy's name and as they rotated I checked off 1-5 on the scale of what I thought about them thinking that's all I would need.  Nope.  By the end of the night I had talked to 22 guys for 5-7 minutes, and for the life of me I couldn't remember who Josh and Kevin were and why I had rated them with a four.  Here are a few guys that I remember from the evening:

A - a charmer from Romania, immediately asked, "Why is someone with your beauty need to be here?" I told him it was a mystery to me and then asked him the same question. "Because I have never met you.  Now we can go."
B - a jolly young man from India.  His first question was if I bought my speed dating on Groupon or Living Social and where were my friends.  I told him Groupon and then pointed to my friend.  He laughed and said he should receive an award because so far he is the only person who came on his own and paid full price.
C - the only one really quiet and awkward guy of the evening.  I almost busted out the icebreaker questions on him, but I powered through with small talk until it was time to rotate.
D - the very positive guy who confessed that the first time he did speed dating he didn't get any matches.
E - a clumsy guy who felt a connection because of my walking boot and put my hand on his knee (then held his hand over mine on his knee - awkward?) while he demonstrated one of his knee injuries.
F - a street pharmacist.  Yup, that's what he told me, and for the sake of not being judgmental I went along with it, which I think freaked him out a little bit.

At the end of the night, everyone turns in their cards with names of the people you're interested in written down.  If those same people write down your name, BINGO!  I received an email the next day from the speed dating organizers that told me three of the four guys I had written down, had also written down my name.  Not too shabby!  Let's get things started.

Bonus for my speed dating ego (although I'm sure they send this to everyone, I like to think it was just for me) was this part of the message from the speed dating people: You're just what we're looking for! Because you were so popular - we would like to welcome you to our Preferred Dater Club. Anytime you wish to return - simply e-mail us and we'll send you a code for a discount on your next purchase from us.

Forty-eight

Forty-eight and his friend were lucky enough to be sitting by themselves in a big booth that I wanted for trivia, so I befriended them and flirted, as is my way.  I politely asked if they were staying for trivia and when they said no I asked if I could sit with them to keep the booth for my friends.  After they said yes, I told them that after the game they were watching was over they should join us for trivia.  They said maybe, they told me when and which team to cheer for in the hockey match they were watching, and I got to know them (Forty-eight is a cook and just moved here from LA a month ago because he needed a change of scenery).  I introduced them to my friends, and they decided they could stay for a while longer to help us with our trivia.  When they finally decided it was time for them to head out I gave Forty-eight my number and as I handed it to him I said, "Here you go! For all of your dancing, karaoke, salon, and tour guide needs.  Give me a call."  He said thanks, put it in his pocket, they told us bye, and that was the end of that.

Forty-seven

My ego is huge, so despite the little luck I've had I haven't given up on OK Cupid attempts yet.  Forty-seven and I have exchanged a few messages about dance offs and music.  We discovered that we both like salsa dancing, and I told him that while I love salsa dancing I'm a horrible follower.  He decided if that was true it's because I just haven't had the right leader.  I liked that response and suggested a place we could go that has salsa night a few times a week.  Unfortunately, he chose a night that I wasn't available, and I haven't heard from him since.  Hopefully he doesn't think I was trying to blow him off.  To make it better I now have a fractured foot, so even if he does get back to me I won't be dancing for a long while.

For the record, not being able to go dancing hurts my heart more than any guy not calling me back.

Forty-six

Honestly, I'm not super-excited about Forty-six, but I figure nothing amazing has happened with the guys I have wanted to go out with, so why the heck not?  He and his friend stopped me a couple of weeks ago as I was heading into a pub and asked if I knew where they could find some live music.  They were friendly (and I apparently needed attention), so I talked with them for a few minutes before they asked where I was headed.  I told them I was meeting some friends inside, and I said they could join me while they waited for their friends.  I introduced them to my people, they made themselves comfortable, and random conversations occurred.  At one point one of them, possibly Forty-six, asked my friend what her relationship status was because he thought it might be useful information.  I thought that was amusing but didn't really pay much attention because I wasn't interested in either of them.  Why?  I'm really not sure.  They were nice enough, entertaining, and they weren't hideous; I just wasn't attracted to them (possibly because they looked older than me, and we know "older than me" isn't my normal type).  When they left, Forty-six gave me his business card and told me to email him because "Even if you aren't interested or available, we're having a party and I've got friends and you've got friends - it could be fun."  I agreed, thanked him, hugged the guys bye.

Two weeks went by when I found his card in my purse.  I decided I had nothing to lose, and a story to gain.  So I emailed him and asked if he wants he to meet up for coffee.  Now we wait.

P.S. They told one of my friends that they weren't really looking for live music, they just asked about it to strike up a conversation.  Conversation activated.  Try it out next time you want to talk to someone.

Forty-five

I tend to zone out when I'm reading a book on the train, so I didn't notice when Forty-five sat down next to me.  However, when he politely said excuse me and asked about the stop he needed, I put my book down to tell him when he should get off and directed him where to go.  Forty-five thanked me and told me that he was coming from the East Bay and normally would drive but that he decided to be adventurous and take Muni for the first time ever today to meet his friends.  I shared all of my Muni knowledge with him, and then for fun added, "You're lucky because today there is also a special for first-time Muni riders to trade numbers with the person next to them for a date."  Luckily he was a good sport (and probably felt relatively safe since I had also just told him the next stop was his, so he would be able to get away from me quickly and safely without being rude); he kind of laughed and said, "My girlfriend loves a good deal, but something tells me she wouldn't like that one." I said, "Fair enough."  With rare perfect timing the train pulled up to his stop a few seconds later, and I told him bye and went back to reading my book.

44.1

After having an OkCupid account for more than a year and a half, I finally had a date!  There is no back story here, other than a simple message about getting a drink.  I was five minutes late and didn't see him anywhere, so I claimed a table by the door and perused the menu with wide eyes because the chosen place was swanky with drinks I didn't understand.  After a few minutes of waiting I got my book out and started reading so I wouldn't get too antsy while I waited.  Fifteen minutes later I was still waiting (we hadn't exchanged numbers, which wouldn't have mattered because I didn't have my phone with me), and I started running images of You've Got Mail in my head: Meg Ryan is waiting for Tom Hanks who is outside, and when he sees who she is he tells his friend he's not going to meet her.  Then I thought maybe he disliked tardiness more than I did and left since I was five minutes late.  I decided to give him a total of thirty minutes before leaving, and with ten minutes to spare he arrived.  He apologized profusely for being late and said he had sent me an email telling me that he would be a few minutes late and then he was standing outside waiting for me while I was sitting inside waiting for him.

He asked what I would like to drink and I told him the fancy drink I had chosen.  He was very concerned whether or not the drink I had chosen had alcohol in it because he didn't want to drink if I wasn't drinking.  I love and hate that mentality; I appreciate the sentiment and respect behind it, but I don't want someone to be uncomfortable because they need a beer to loosen up but feel they can't have one if I'm not drinking - have a drink or two, just don't get sloppy drunk.  In the end, the drink I ordered was some kind of Cosmo, which kicked this non-regular drinker's butt (I swear I took 1.5 hours to sip this drink  - which he matched sip for sip because he's apparently all about an even playing field - and my face got warm and I started wondering if I was talking more loudly than normal).

All in all I had a nice time with Forty-four.  We talked about our favorite San Francisco places, activities, and the naked and/or crazy people seen around the city.  He was extremely polite and chivalrous to the point of offering me a ride home even though it was the complete opposite direction of his apartment.  I told him it wasn't necessary, but he insisted and asked how far it was; I estimated about two miles and then he looked it up on his phone and embarrassingly said, "Oh no, you know it looks too far, and I've had two drinks.  I'm very nervous about getting pulled over."  I told him it was completely fine and that I had planned on taking the bus.  He was so apologetic that I couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation.  While he was a very sweet man, I think he's definitely looking for a serious relationship, so I'm probably not the one for him since I have no idea what I want right now.

43.Fail

Cockiness is not my friend.  After my first date with Forty-three I was 100% confident that there would be a second date; I was 100% wrong.  A week after our first date and a few texts later, he passed by the salon (not on purpose, by the way); when he saw me he came in to say hi.  When we realized we were both going to be out of town that weekend, he told me to get a hold of him when I was back and we would get together.  I followed his instructions, but it turned out he was actually going to be out of town for a couple of extra days.  We texted back and forth for the next few days, and then I finally got to the point and asked him, "What are the chances you and I get to go out soon?"  He replied, "Truthfully I gotta lay low on dating for right now.  Got a little too much on the plate.  Unexpected things have arose that I gotta take care of.  But obviously we will stay in contact!"

Ouch.  You need to know that I'm not much of an emotional person, but this caused a slight fissure in the crush section of my heart since I had been so confident about our connection.  I sucked it up, though, and replied, "High five for the honesty. We'd better stay in touch because I need someone to keep my dancing ego in check.  Good luck with that plate of yours." He responded, "Of course, you're a cool chick."  I wrapped it up by replying, "It's true, I am pretty cool."

Part of me definitely hopes that our paths will cross again soon.  If I don't see him, though, I really do appreciate his honesty rather than the popular alternative that some people take and string others along.

Handsy and the Lone Wolf

For New Year's Eve I went to a small house party hosted by a friend of a friend.  Three friends twice removed was Handsy, whom I had never met and felt absolutely no connection with, other than his hands unfortunately.  That sounds more risque than it really is.  Handsy was apparently taken with me and kept standing right next to me and putting his hands around my waist like we were a high school couple in puppy love.  I would politely excuse myself to get a glass of water, a snack, a tissue, anything that wasn't near him.  Each time he would be back at my side within minutes.  While he seemed like a perfectly nice guy that is into extreme sports, the fact that his hands were constantly trying to be connected to me made him annoying.  When I left the party, he followed me out and asked for my number; in the spirit of "I've asked a gazillion guys, and it's nice to be asked out for a change" I did give him my number.  Then he drunkenly went in for a kiss, which I managed to turn into an awkward hug.

A few days later he called, and we shared a slightly uncomfortable phone call (normally I'm the one to avoid awkward silences, but I was trying to be polite and not lead him on) about watching live music.  Handsy said he would check into some upcoming shows and get back with me.  Three weeks went by, and I hadn't heard from him.  Mission accomplished.

The other night I was meeting up with a friend for dancing and ended up there early, so I found a place on the dance floor and got to grooving.  By the time Laurie arrived an hour later, I was in a dance circle with bearded dude, Asian guy and his two friends, stoned out hands-in-the-air dude, and a girl and her super drunk boyfriend.  Also, my new friend Harold, the barback, would come by on his rounds and we'd dance for a few minutes.  I really didn't think much about any of this until Laurie asked how I knew all of these guys.  Well, I knew Harold from just being at this bar regularly enough and bearded dude because I managed to clumsily step on his feet twice in three minutes when I first got there.  She and I were wondering why all these random guys were around me when someone's arms were suddenly around my waist.  At first I thought it was Harold, but then I turned around to see Handsy.  What? No!!! Why?  I didn't let those words come out of my mouth, but they were definitely swimming around my head. I managed to twirl out of the reach of his hands and say hi from a respectable distance.  Laurie and I continued dancing and secretly laughing about the random dudes swarming me.  

I successfully avoided Handsy the rest of the time without seeming too rude, I hope (as uninterested as I was, I didn't want to be perceived as a jerk).

Conclusion for the single ladies: If you want to meet a man, go out by yourself for an hour or so and see what happens.  While I didn't ask out any of these guys, the opportunities were there.  Maybe there was a full moon or something: I should check the Farmer's Almanac.  Regardless, test this new theory of mine, and be the lone wolf for an hour or two this weekend.

15 Minutes

Two friends helped one of our buddies move to LA, and as the unofficial welcoming committee for California I flew down for the weekend to be with them.  A few hours later we were waiting for  Brett's cousin to join us at a pub; while we waited we decided it would be a terrific idea for me to act like I didn't know any of them and ask out the cousin.  Terrific idea it was!  When we knew Z was on his way, I wandered off and made friends with other people until after he arrived.  I waited a few minutes for Z to get settled before walking over to him.  Here's the rundown: I walked up to the table and stood patiently for a few seconds waiting for a break in the conversation.  When there was a pause, I touched Z's shoulder and said, "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I saw you walk in and thought you were very handsome and had to tell you." Z gave me a slightly uncomfortable smile and said thank you, so I told him my name was Penelope, asked for his name, and then asked him if he came here very often.  "Um yeah, sometimes." "Well maybe we could do something sometime." "Yeah, maybe." I decided to put a little pressure on him and said, "Maybe we could start right now." I kid you not that his response was, "Um, maybe in like fifteen minutes."  It took all I had to keep a straight face as I sat down next to my friends and said, "Or maybe right now." I held it together for about three more seconds until we all broke down laughing and told him who I really was.  I'd say he was still a little wary of me for his first couple drinks.

When I told him the fifteen minutes response was horrible, Z explained his rationale that he just wanted to have some time to catch up with his cousin.  I advised him that next time he should throw that explanation in with his fifteen minutes response.

43.1

Success!  I met Forty-three to play skeeball at a neighborhood bar.  Overall summary: we talked, played skeeball (I suggested this, which made him laugh because I'm absolutely horrible at it), talked, had dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant, and talked some more.  It was fantastic.  Seriously, sometimes you go on a date and at the end you think to yourself, "I think it went well, we'll see."  After this date my thought was, "Yes!  I can't wait for the next date!" In my professional opinion, we were at total ease with each other as we got to know each other, but not so much that we floated into friend-zone territory.  Here are some of my favorite facts about him: he can break dance and just loves dancing in general, he doesn't have a TV but he loves the show The Walking Dead, he loves all of my favorite 80s movies, his favorite Christmas song is "Mele Kalikimaka." Oh yeah, and he's 29, what?!

We don't have another date set, but I'm going to be cocky here and say there will definitely be one.

Forty-three

"...or a significant relationship."  That's what I overheard Forty-three telling his friend, when I turned around and said, "I have no idea what the first option was, but you should definitely go for the significant relationship."  Forty-three asked me, "Were you eavesdropping on us?" "No, my super power is hearing; it's a blessing and a curse." "Well mine is amazing eyesight." "Fantastic, my vision is horrible, so we'll make a great team." After this exchange we introduced ourselves and then he stepped up to meet all of my friends.  He and his friend stayed around us until we closed down the bar.  At one point he and his friend started snapping, and I asked, "Which one of you is a Jet and which is a Shark?" "What?" "Sorry, West Side Story reference." "Never seen it." "Well, that's just unfortunate." Then he started singing, "Tonight, tonight, there's only you tonight..." Forty-three followed that up with a medley of a few other songs from the musical, so I told him, "Okay, we're definitely going to need to go out." "I think we can arrange something."  At the end of the night when I was telling everyone bye, Forty-three walked up and asked, "Were you just going to leave without giving me your number?"  "Of course not, I was coming to find you to make sure you had my number."  Number exchange complete. 

I called him two days later, and we had a conversation that consisted of mixed tapes, small fluffy dogs, Casey Kasem, Kris Kross, Faith No More, window seats, and the use of the term homeboys.  At the end of a very entertaining phone call we made plans for a date in a few days.  I'm pretty sure this date is going to be filled with us talking over each other and loads of laughs.  I'm ready!

Forty-Two

I was on my way to the doghouse and was trying to decide what I was going to have for dinner when the "perfect" date opportunity appeared before my eyes.  Forty-two rode towards me on his bicycle and said, "Heeey."  I repeat, there was an extended "ee" in the "hey."  With my stomach rumbling I smiled and replied, "Heeey.  Do you want to go grab some dinner with me?"  Cue the awkward music.  He looked at me with a confused expression, pointed to his headphones, held up his phone, and rode right on past me.  That's right, ladies and gentlemen, he was on the phone.  The extended "ee" was not meant for me.  I wish that I could have pretended that I was also on the phone, but it was in my purse and I didn't have my headphones.  For the record, I stopped at the store for a frozen dinner that night.