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.