64.2

Sixty-four and I decided to meet up three days after our first date, but the catch was that I had to go to his place because he was watching his roommate's dog.  After telling him it sounded like a trap to get me to his place and making him promise to be a gentleman (Yes, I made out with him on our first date in a bar, but I'm still a lady.  Well, I try to be, at least) I agreed to come over.  After that was settled, he warned me that they were having construction done the following week and to please excuse the appearance of the entryway.

To get to Sixty-four's place from mine I can either take two buses or take one bus then walk 15 minutes.  Just as I had gotten off the first bus, he calls me in a panic asking how far I was.  When I told him where I was, he freaked out a little more and explained that the entryway that he had previously warned me about had just collapsed (it had been raining for about eight days straight in SF).  First I confirmed that he and the dog were not trapped, and then I laughed and said I could be there in a few minutes to help.  He responded, "NO!  Don't take the bus.  Walk.  Walk very slowly.  I'll clean it up, and you and I can go for a drink somewhere.  Let me know when you're near, but WALK slowly."  I insisted I could help; he insisted that he didn't want me to see the mess, so I agreed to walk as slowly as possible.  I sent him a message when I was two blocks away, and then when I reached his door and was about to knock he apparently was just seeing the text because I heard him on the other side of the door yell, "@%*#! She's two blocks away!"  I immediately took my hand down and walked to the house next door and laughed for two minutes before I went back and knocked.  Sixty-four and one of his roommates let me in and instructed me to stay to the right and not look up as I walked up the stairs, all the while I was laughing and making skylight suggestions.  It was all very endearing because Sixty-four had clearly been cleaning all day (4 dudes, 1 girl, a cat, and a dog live in the house) and then the entryway collapsed, so he was stressed about the impression of his place.  I told him it was not a big deal but that I would need proof that they all paid rent and weren't just squatting in an abandoned house (he's learning that sarcasm is one of my stronger characteristics).  In the end we watched a movie, talked, and made out (of course).

Since then Sixty-four has confidently texted me messages such as, "Try not to think about me too much today." and "How hard is it to be away from me right now?"  He has also referred to me as "cupcake" twice via texts.  I'm not a fan of the cupcake situation, but I do like his confidence.  However, being a human I'm wavering on that fine line of am I less interested than he is because he's showing me so much interest (Don't be stupid.  He likes you.  Give the guy a chance) and am I less interested because there were at least three bongs at his place (Don't be stupid.  This is SF.  Maybe they're not his; he lives with four other people.  Give the guy a chance).  Apparently I'm giving the guy a chance, but next time he calls me Cupcake there will be words.

64.1

I went into my neighborhood hardware store to have copies of keys made and Sixty-four helped me.  We lightly flirted, and my favorite bit was when I told him I'd let him know whether or not the key worked and he replied, "Please do because conversation is key."  Puns, I love them.  Five days later I went in solely with the intention of asking Sixty-four on a date, and as luck would have it he was standing by the door when I got to the store.  

Me: Just the person I wanted to see.

Him: That makes my day.

Me: If it's not too unprofessional, would you want to go out for a drink sometime?

Him: (without a second of hesitation) Yeah! What about tonight?

Me: Oh! I'm working tonight, but yeah I can meet you after.

Then Sixty-four wrote down his number for me while being adorably flustered, and I told him I'd text him later to make plans for the evening.  We decided I'd meet him in his neighborhood, and when I told him to let me know where to meet him he replied, "Sixty-four's place across the street from Beep's Burgers." My reaction in my head was, "Woah, buddy, I am NOT going to your place." However, I politely responded with, "You have a place named after you - that's impressive." Then he told me that an 80-year old woman named Sue is the bartender.  To verify that I wasn't going to his grandma's house for dinner, my friend googled "Sixty-four's Place" and confirmed that it was in fact a dive bar.  I met him there after work and had told myself I would have one, maybe two drinks.  Sixty-four was adorable and made all the standard Indiana references, and we proceeded to chat and watch the Warriors game (he loves all things sports).  During that time we leaned into each other.  You know when sometimes there's just that magnetic force when two people automatically lean in? That's the one. That leaning factor, plus the two drinks (then, a third drink because Sue the bartender loved me and gave me that third one for free for the holidays - freaking Sue.) contributed to Sixty-four and I kissing in the middle of a relatively empty bar, then in front of a closed store on the way to my bus stop, and then some more while I waited for my bus.

What I learned during the first date with Sixty-four is that he is not related to Sue (he just happened to invite me to a bar featuring his name), he's 28, loves sports, and is my kind of kisser.

Sixty-three

Today we will cover two popular idioms: patience is a virtue and no news is good news.  First of all patience is a virtue...usually.  In my case patience with guys turns into us entering friend zone, while my impatience in order to avoid that zone turns into scaring guys away.  There's apparently an invisible line between the two that I have yet to discover.  Secondly no news is good news, false.  From my experience no news means that I have most likely terrified some guy.  Case in point...

Sixty-three and I met via a competitive karaoke league. (That's right, a competitive karaoke league.  It's a real league that deserves an entire blog site all of its own.)  I have decided that Sixty-three could have been part of the Rat Pack because he is smooth, confident, charming, and funny; his  downfall is that he works all the time.  A few weeks after the karaoke league ended I had only seen Sixty-three once at a trivia night since he is always swamped with projects at work, so I invited him out for a karaoke night if he wasn't working late.  His response was that for once he wasn't working late but it was because he was at home sick.  My obvious response (after telling him to feel better) was, "In an ideal world where you didn't work late on most nights and weren't sick on the other nights, do you want to go on a date?"  Yep, it was one of those messages that as I hit send I thought to myself, "This is probably a terrible idea."  

Several days later I still haven't heard from Sixty-three, which leads me to believe that he is passed out from too much Sudafed.  In this case I'm going to change the saying to no news is oh hell no.

White Lie...Downward Spiral

There's a 60+ year old Israeli man who works at the corner store that is next to my job.  About two years ago he told me he was going home to Israel and asked what kind of man I wanted him to bring back for me.  That friendly five minute conversation is the only time we've ever referred to my relationship status in the four years I've frequented his store.  Last week when this same man asked me, "How is your honey?" I, for no reason at all, replied that my honey was fine.  Lies.  I have no idea if my honey is fine because I don't have a honey.  The following, my friends, is a parable of why we (ahem, I) shouldn't lie.

Him: How is your honey?

The Liar: Fine.

Him: How long have you been with this man?

The Liar: Three months.

Him: So not too long.

The Liar: Nope, it's still new.

Him: What number is he? Fifteen, Twenty-two...

The Liar: (first thinking to herself, "I know I gravitate towards younger guys, but fifteen?!") He's 32.

Him: Okay.  What number was your favorite?

The Liar gives him a quizzical look.

Him: One, seventeen, thirty-two?

The Liar gives him a deeply confused look.

Him: Because I know some women say that the first is their favorite because they gave their virginity to him.

The Liar's face definitely gets red and she quickly walks out of the store saying, "Uhhhhh, I don't remember...it was so long ago!

And that, boys and girls, is why you don't lie.  You think you're telling someone that your made-up boyfriend is 32, but that person really asked how many lovers you've had. 

62.No

After our second date and his story about the sex party, I had officially decided I wasn't interested in Sixty-two.  He apparently didn't pick up on those brain waves because the next night he sent me a text message and called me to see what I was doing.  Luckily for me I was out with a friend and didn't see those messages until it was my bedtime, so the next day I politely replied that I had been out and hoped he'd had a good night.  He had.  I was relieved when a week went by and I didn't hear from him, but then I got the text of "Pennnnneeelllllooooppppppeeeeee."  I felt no need to respond to that.  Two days later he texted asking me if I was free the next day.  Telling someone you're not interested in them isn't easy.  I've never really had to do it because either the other person wasn't interested in me first and made it clear, or the other person figured out that I wasn't interested in them from normal social cues.  From conversations I've had with friends there's no good way to go about it, whether you're breaking up with someone or telling a new person you're not interested.  The most of us say, "Ugh, why don't they just tell me they don't want to go out with me.  Just suck it up and be honest."  However, when it's our turn to do just that we can't because it's awkward or we don't want to hurt the other person.

I had decided if Sixty-two specifically asked me out on another date that I would be honest and tell him I wasn't interested, but that if he kept vaguely or casually communicating with me I would be polite with vague answers back because I don't want to be the egotistical ass that says, "Hey, leave me alone, I'm not interested in you" just to receive a response of "Um, I thought we were friends and was just saying hi; I'm not interested in you either."  So when Sixty-two asked if I was free the next day it fell somewhere in the middle of the spectrum for me because he didn't specifically ask me if I was free to go on a date.  I innocently responded (innocently because my answer was instant and honest), "Nope.  Pretty much from now until mid-October my schedule is out of control."  Because it's true, I have a work trip and a social trip with a whole lot of life sprinkled between the two, and I didn't want to feel badly telling him I wasn't free each time he potentially invited me to do something. After the fact, it dawned on me that maybe, just maybe that was a dick move.  Yep.  I didn't mean to be a jerk, but I basically blew him off without thinking about it. At first I felt like a complete jerk about it, but then I thought maybe it was for the best and he'd move on.

Apparently he didn't interpret my response as anything other than what I had originally intended because he's still texting me.  Currently his messages haven't required any resplies from me, so I'm going for the "if I don't respond you'll forget I exist" method, because let's be honest guys have used this method on me many times, and I eventually get the hint (even when I think, "Ugh, just tell me you're not interested." It's called irony, people.).

62.2

Spoiler alert: I'm not planning on a third date because I'm a judgmental jerk.  At the end of the first date  I was on the fence as to whether or not I'd want to go out with Sixty-two again because while he was a lot of fun, I wasn't really attracted to him.  However, in the end I decided not to be superficial.  I met Sixty-two for an afternoon of strolling around various thrift shops, which in itself is always fun for me, and then he started telling me a story...

He became friends with someone at a festival who asked him if he'd been to a tantric sex party; he hadn't been but really wanted to experience the party.  The rule was that each guy that went to the party had to bring a female otherwise they wouldn't be admitted, so Sixty-two immediately began asking every girl he knew to go with him. Believe it or not, none of the ladies wanted to go to the party.  But wait!  There was one girl he hadn't asked - his sister.  Yep, his sister.  Seriously, people, my brother doesn't even like to acknowledge the fact that I kiss guys, so the fact that Sixty-two asked his sister and she said yes baffled and amused me.  To top it off, their brother wanted to go to the party, too.  Two brothers and a sister walk into a tantric sex party...it's not until they get there that Sixty-two realized, "Uhhh, I brought my sister to a sex party."

I don't even think it's the fact that he wanted to go to a sex party that bothered me most...it's more because (a) he thought it was okay to take his sister as his guest, and (b) he told me this story on our second date.

Sixty-two

Summary: I basically went on a date with myself.  When I asked Sixty-two if he wanted to see a movie, he counter-offered with meeting up with me before or after instead and suggested two locations.  Location A: a way-too loud Irish pub; Location B: a quiet dive bar that is the epitome of an X-rated movie from 1977.  I chose the latter for the lack of noise factor.  Things you should know immediately about Sixty-two: he's in an improv group, we met through a mutual friend out dancing, he is very entertaining, and he's a dating coach (yes, you read that correctly, dating coach).

I arrived to the bar first and quickly made friends with the bartender and the two girls sitting at the bar.  The girls were talking about a bachelorette party they were planning and were wondering where you find a stripper (Craigslist, perhaps?), and I told them that the guy I was meeting did improv, so SURELY he or someone he knows could do it.  When Sixty-two arrived, I introduced him to my new friends, and then broke the ice by asking him if he could do a quick stripper improv.  He laughed and went along with it for a few seconds.  The girls wouldn't let us go to another table, so we all talked for awhile as Sixty-two drank his Ginger Ale (because he doesn't drink much - like me).  When one of the girls asked about my favorite place in the neighborhood, I told them it was a karaoke bar down the block.  Sixty-two immediately said we should go (because he loves karaoke - like me), and the girls wanted to join us.  He told me that while he wouldn't be singing it that night, he had been practicing "Somebody to Love" by Queen (probably my favorite band of all times).  When I told him how much I loved Queen, he leaned in and said, "Penelope, I don't what's going on here, but I like what's happening."

The four of us went to karaoke, but after he and I put our songs in, the girls decided they needed to call it a night (but not before one of them got Sixty-two's number so he could work his dating coach magic on her).  He ended up singing a song by Seal (you know the one) and was all over the stage dancing and being dramatic (just like I do).  While he was singing, a couple at the table next to us asked if we were on a date, and I told them that I thought so.  The guy replied, "You should give him another chance because he's trying really hard."  When I sang, Sixty-two cheered me on and simultaneously made friends with the people around him (that's my M.O.).  When it was time for us to go, he started to walk me back to my place until his bus came out of nowhere and he took off running to catch it.

So, yes, I went on a date with myself and two girls.

Cookies & Kisses

Yesterday I went to the cafe across the street to give one of the baristas a birthday card and cookie.  He was sitting at a table with another guy, so I walked over and put the cookie on the table and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  During this process I noticed his friend (that I didn't know) giving me a classic "What's happening" kind of look, and then my friend turned to look at me...except it wasn't my friend.  It was a guy I had never seen before also giving me that "What's happening" look.  I'm sure my expression was just as priceless because I was equally surprised by the situation. A normal-minded person in this scenario would have most likely been embarrassed and explained the mix-up.  However, we've established by now that I'm not the most normal, so I took a different route.  I looked at the guy, pointed at the cookie, and said, "This cookie's for you."  Then I promptly turned around, set the birthday card on the counter for my friend, and walked out the door without looking back.

I thought about going back later (after I had stopped laughing) and explaining myself, but I didn't. I can only imagine what that guy thought - crazy lady, a dare, candid camera.  Maybe I accidentally started a "pay it forward" kind of craze involving cookies and kisses...let's be honest, that's not my worst idea.

Sixty-one

I went to a bar off my normal path because my friend was the DJ there that night.  Throughout the night, I bonded with the bartender, Sixty-one.  He was tall, skinny, and wearing a Hawaiian shirt...his sense of humor made up for the shirt.  One of my friends showed up with some delicious garlic and butter edamame (I repeat, delicious) that we shared with Sixty-one, and he loved them.  If bonding over edamame isn't a sign, I don't know what is.  I told Sixty-one I had a brilliant idea, "If you are single then we should hit up the restaurant where these came from next week."  He did that thing when you kind of do the opposite of a sigh with an, "oh man, bummer" face and said, "I do have a girlfriend.  Otherwise, though, how could I refuse that unbeatable offer because you're pretty rad."  That response led to us having a conversation of how we want to use "rad" and "bitchin'" more often in our daily lives.

So no date, but I had a bitchin' night with a lot of rad people.

Sixty

Sixty is a friend of a friend, and I met him at dinner recently.  Despite the fact that he was tired from just getting back in town from the East Coast, he was still able to make me laugh as he challenged ridiculous statements that I made such as, "The unicorn is my spirit animal."  In addition to that tidbit, he also learned that I'm not much of a drinker (although to be perfectly honest I did have a drink at the end of the evening).

If you're just tuning in to my life, it's true, I don't drink very often.  I have nothing against drinking, but (a) I don't like beer or wine at all, (b) I do like vodka and rum but I usually prefer a drink they come in without them (ie, I like a Coke more than Captain & Coke), (c) drinks are expensive and I'm poor.  Those three reasons plus the fact that I've never been the person that needs a drink to loosen up are why I don't drink very often.

Back to the point, a few days after meeting Sixty I asked my friend to pass my number on to him.  Typically I try not to have a middle man, but in this case I had no way of reaching Sixty.  My friend told me she had no idea if he was single or not but she passed my number on to him saying that I was quite taken with him.  Sixty replied to her by saying, "My situation is complicated but in any case I think I'm done disappointing new women for a bit while I focus on making a couple miserable now."  Okay, I respect the fact that he admits his romantic life is a mess right now, but then he added this bit, "Besides, Penelope doesn't even drink - my little charm wears off quick in the harsh light of sobriety."  Hey, mister, I was completely sober for the first two hours we were talking and you were drinking, and I still thought you were charming, come on.  I get that it's not the social norm to be a non-drinker, but it's silly for you to be weird about it.

Obviously it doesn't matter because he's not available, but if he were single I'd probably tell him to man up and not use my sobriety as an excuse.  I definitely have downfalls in my personality, but being sober isn't one of them.  Now the fact that I talk about having a spirit animal and that it's a unicorn, well maybe that's a bit odd.

54.Spontaneity

Work had been a little overwhelming for a few weeks, so I needed to dance the night away hard core and be the last person off the dance floor at closing time to release some stress.  It was the perfect medicine, and I was feeling fantastic when I hit the bus stop at 2:00am to head home.  As the bus pulled up 54 was getting on, too.  I hadn't seen him for months, so we hugged and made polite small talk for a few minutes before he looked at me and asked, "Do you want to go to the beach?" It's 2:00am, a dude I went out with one time months ago wants me to go to the beach - I'm pretty sure we're not going to be talking about world peace.  I knew it wasn't my best decision of the month, but I agreed. On the bus ride to the beach it took me all of four minutes to remember that he was a super nice guy, but we didn't have a connection at all...too late to turn back, though.

When we got to the beach he took a spare shirt out of his backpack for us to sit on, propped his skateboard up for us to lean on, and put his arm around my shoulder in an attempt to keep me warm.  We just sat there for a few minutes appreciating the peacefulness surrounding us, before he made his move and went in for the kiss.  I'll be the first to admit that I'm a bit of an unemotional jerk, but while we were kissing I was laughing at myself a little and thinking, "Man, this is ridiculous.  Why am I kissing this guy? I don't even like the way he kisses...I'm such a jerk."  Then when he oh-so casually whispered, "I have a condom...sex on the beach?" I couldn't help but reply, "Unless you're talking about the drink, that's not happening."  He laughed and didn't ask again and kept kissing me.  I finally told him that I needed to go home and sleep, so we got back on the bus and casually chatted until his stop.  At that point he hugged me and gave me a quick peck, I told him, "Bye, this was lovely." His reaction (which I know was an accident, but it's still hilarious) was, "I love you."  I held it together until the bus pulled away, but then I laughed the rest of the ride home.  

All in all, it was a great night of dancing and spontaneous kisses - possibly the best stress remedy combo in my opinion.

57.Round Two

I still see Fifty-seven (aka Mustache) when I walk by the coffee shop.  Sometimes I stop in for a drink, but more often than not I go in and say hi on my way somewhere and at some point lingering hugs became part of the walk-by routine.  Last week as I was walking by he and his co-worker were behind the counter and waved me in, and of course I obliged.  As I entered Fifty-seven started dancing: I'm talking breakdancing and slow-motion dancing - the kind of dancing that makes my heart leap out of my chest.  Up until this point, I had gone back and forth on whether or not I should ask him out officially (I'd given him my number a couple months earlier saying to call me for a haircut, to borrow my bike, or just because), and after seeing his moves my crush on Fifty-seven multiplied.  I decided I had to ask him out, but not right then in front of his co-worker.  Last night I went in after work with a solid plan of getting a drink, reading, and asking him on a date before I left.  By the time I arrived it was nearly his closing time, but he came around and enveloped me in a hug and then held my hand for a few brief seconds as he told me I could hang out as long as I wanted while he closed up because he had some things to do.  Then he made me a hot chocolate with a heart design, and while I know it's a barista art form and not something that he's only ever done for me, my heart kind of fluttered, and I told him it was beautiful, to which he immediately replied, "You're beautiful." I blushed and sat down to read and tried to remember how to make my heart beat at a normal rate.

For the next hour he sat across from me and applied for health insurance while I read and we made small talk and mildly flirted.  When it was time to leave he was getting his things from the other side of the counter and started legitimately beat-boxing.  I could not stop smiling as I tried to talk to him and he put whatever I said into beat-box robotics and danced.  Then after a few minutes he said, "I'd love to stay and flirt, but I do have a girl."  My mind said, "Blech," while I told him, "Of course you do; you're too fantastic not to have a girl.  It's good to know, though, otherwise I would continue to flirt and insist we go on a date."  Then he held my hand in his hands and just said, "But you and me..."  I replied, "Yes, but you have a girl."  He told me he still wanted a long hug goodbye.  The thing about me is that I have trained myself well to put up a gate around my heart and emotions and turn off my feelings as soon as I find out someone I like isn't available; I forget that it's much easier for me to do this than others.  He walked around, gave me a hug, and then kissed me.  Like a kiss that in any other situation I'd be all swooning, and while I may have swooned for a second my brain quickly realized, "Woah, his tongue is in your mouth and his hands on your bum; not cool." He apologized by saying, "I'm sorry, I had to indulge myself."  I told him I didn't want to be the reason he wasn't a good boyfriend.  He said, "No, I'm sorry, it's not your fault."  Then he kissed me again.  What?!  He apologized again and said, "Well, now I'm just over indulging, but I can't help it...that smile."  Apparently my smile is his kryptonite.  I told him I didn't want to be a temptation, so I wrapped my scarf around my face and told him bye and that we'd be friends.  In reality other than waving while walking by, I know that it's best for me not to actually go in if he's working alone.

Things I took away from this:
- I wasn't imagining the attraction between the two of us.
- A kiss from a guy with a mustache isn't horrible at all.
- I could never date a guy knowing they kissed someone when they weren't single.
- I don't want to be a home wrecker, ever.
- Confirmation in my belief that people should have to wear badges that read, "Single, Straight, Looking for commitment" or whatever their particular case may be.

Fifty-nine

Yes or no.  I understand the need to be polite, but compliments confuse delusional (optimistic?) people like me.  I've had a crush on Fifty-nine for a while and decided I needed to take action.  I texted him, "Idea!  If you are single and interested, let's you and I go on a date!  If you aren't single or interested let's continue having fun conversations.  Thoughts?"  Fifty-nine replied a few hours later, "I'm flattered Penelope and love ideas, so happy you asked.  I'm in the second category which is a really good one for me since you are about as cool as they come."  A normal-minded person would read this text and think, "Rejected."  However, I initially read it as, "Flattered!  Love ideas!  Happy!  Cool as they come!"  After review I thought, "Second category?"  Let me break the possible categories down for you: single (1), interested (2), not single (3) not interested (4); OR single and interested (1), not single and not interested (2).  What was my next step, you ask?  First I read his response seventeen more times, and then replied, "Just to be clear, was that a yes or no to the date?"  It was a no.

Two days later who did I run into at a lodge up in Tahoe?  Fifty-nine, of course; seriously, my life entertains me endlessly.  While walking through the lodge, I saw a guy I knew and went up to say hi; then reaching towards me from behind that guy was Fifty-nine.  He introduced me to his friends that were there, and then commented that he didn't know I came up to Tahoe.  I told him I just happened to be there with some friends for the weekend (sadly none of my friends were around at that moment to validate that they actually existed), and then I promptly excused myself to find said friends before the following thoughts that were bubbling up in my brain escaped my lips (because we all know how I tend to make things awkward when I speak): "I just wanted to confirm face-to-face that you said no because tone and facial expressions are really important, don't you think?" or "Yeah, I don't typically come up here, this must be a sign, right?"  For once in my life I stopped when I was ahead.  Okay, I wasn't really ahead, but at least I stopped before I got even further behind.

Type

If someone asks me what my type of guy is I tell them a guy that's witty and looks a little (or a lot) scruffy.  Maybe it's just because a man with a beard stands out from other men (kind of like the one guy in the room who is wearing a shirt that isn't a plaid button up also stands out), but I've always been drawn to guys with beards.

However, based on some recent observations, bearded men might not be my type (or maybe I'm not their type?) considering that the majority of guys that I've gone out with don't have beards.  I came to the conclusion yesterday that in reality my type is a guy who is a smoker (of pot or cigarettes).  This realization is hilariously ironic because I can't stand the idea of cigarettes, and I don't like the smell of pot.  I've never been that girl who has a list of qualities of the perfect guy, but I did always say I would never date a smoker.  Lies.  All lies.  My first real boyfriend was a smoker; I knew it way before our first date, but his wittiness outweighed that detail, and as a bonus he had a beard.  Thinking about the guys that I've gone on dates with in the last couple years the majority of them smoke pot (after all, this is San Francisco), cigarettes, or both.   I swear I don't seek them out for this specific characteristic; in fact, except for one of them I didn't know about these particular hobbies until our first dates.  So just like some people are drawn to certain pheromones, I'm apparently drawn to men who have some kind of smoke lingering around them.

58.Friend

Two weeks after the best line of 2014, "that's enough for now," Fifty-eight and I finally saw each other and spent eight hours together walking around town, seeing a movie, dining, and meeting up with friends.  During the last twenty minutes of those eight hours I finally worked in the attempted make-out session into the conversation - apparently I can only go so long before my thoughts wrapped in mental straight jackets escape.  As we were walking back to my neighborhood at the end of our fun-filled day we were talking about our mutual friend who's boyfriend just got transferred to several states away, which led to the conversation of long-distance relationships.  Fifty-eight commented that timing is key when it comes to relationships, and that became my segue..."Yeah, timing is important; like when I wake you up in the middle of the night and ask if you want to kiss."  We both started laughing, and he said he was glad I said something about that night.  We came to the conclusion that neither of us are necessarily looking for something serious, and that he was caught off guard and didn't want to lead me on, but that we both like to kiss, and maybe one day we can kiss just for fun.  Once all of that was cleared up, I made fun of him about his reaction of "That's all for now."  Not that we were really nervous around each other before, but the next night when we met up for dinner and Motown we were definitely more relaxed.  I'm glad to know that we can still be friends, and that I don't have to worry about flirting or not flirting with other guys around him.

58.That's Enough For Now

When I told my best friend the following story his instant response was, "Do you ever feel like you're on an episode of New Girl?"  Absolutely, all the time, and it's pretty great.  I met Fifty-eight twice through mutual friends several months ago when he was visiting the Bay Area, and then recently at a New Year's Eve party.  At this party he told me that he had officially moved to the area and that he was hoping he'd see me and asked for my number.  That's a good sign, right?  Good, yes; clear, apparently not.  The following week he got a hold of me and we made loose plans to meet up when I was off work.  I let him know that I'd be finished after 6:30; at 7:00 I was still waiting to hear back from him and decided to go get some food (my stomach waits for no man, plus I wasn't sure if dinner was even on our agenda).  When I'd almost cleared my plate, he texted me to apologize and ask if it was too late to hang out; I told him where I was and he met me there.  The first downfall is that I was sitting at a place where I know all the people working, so they stood around and chatted with us and then asked if we were going to Motown Monday.  I hadn't mentioned that to him because in my head I had already decided I didn't need to take him to my absolute favorite I'm-a-complete-regular-there place to dance on our first night out (mainly because I had no idea if I was supposed to consider this a date), but he was intrigued and asked what they were talking about, to which one of the girls told him, "Only Penelope's favorite place to be on any given Monday." Fifty-eight looked at me and said, "That sounds fun, I'm game." Fantastic.  We go, have a great time, and then he goes there with me three weeks in a row...and never makes a move on me.  After the third week of barely-there communication throughout the week, but always wanting to come in to the city to go dancing with me for Motown night, I have absolutely zero idea what's happening.  I'm fine if it's nothing, but I really want to know if for no other reason than, "Can I flirt and dance with other people, or do you like me and are just being really slow about letting me in on the secret?"  That's what I want to blurt out, but I'm trying to teach myself to keep some things in my head and try letting others take the lead (people apparently call this method, "letting things happen organically." I think it's stupid, but that could just be because I'm no good at it).

Fast forward to after the third Motown night, a group of us had made plans to go to karaoke.  Fifty-eight was excited for this, and I told him that he could stay at my place that night (in a non-slutty way, more of a "hey, you live across the bridge and will be drinking so this makes sense" kind of way).  At the end of the night we told everyone bye and headed to my place, and I managed to keep my "what is happening between us?!?!?" thoughts to myself.  We fell asleep pretty much immediately, and when I say "we" I mean "he" because let's be honest, when there's a guy (whether you have a crush on him or not) sleeping in your bed you don't sleep because chances are you're way to worried about the important things in life - what if I snore, please don't let me fart, did I drool, how bad is my breath.  At some point I did manage to fall asleep, but then I woke up and thought he might be awake, too, so I tested the waters by whispering, "Question." "Yeah?" "I know you were excited about a good night sleep, but would it mess things up if we kissed a little?" "Sure.  We can do that."  This is what you've all been waiting for...he puts his arm around me and gives me four (I repeat four) pecks (I repeat pecks) on the mouth and then says, "I don't mind getting closer, but that's enough for now." What?!?!  I honestly had no idea how to respond to that other than to just say okay and then laugh hysterically in my mind.  I mean, seriously, that response was not on my radar at all.  I expected, "I don't think that's a good idea" or "Absolutely."  It's been a week and I'm still laughing about his response.

I could justify his reaction and give my theories on this situation, but...that's enough for now (this is officially my favorite phrase for 2014).