Sixty-nine

Dolt.  I don't remember the last time I used that word, but that is the synonym I've chosen for Sixty-nine.  I met him speed dating a few weeks ago. Yes, I went speed dating again, and it was a delight.  Mainly because I went with my friend who chose to make up three different careers to talk about when the guys asked her about work: social media for a toothpick company, manager for King Kobbler, and a chinchilla breeder. When you go speed dating with a friend and sit at the same table with her, it is impossible not to get distracted and start laughing when you overhear her say "chinchilla."  But I digress.

When Sixty-nine walked up and the first question out of his mouth was, "So, Penelope, what's your deal?  Do you just go around town making out with people?" I immediately knew this would be great and replied, "You have me pegged."  For the next five minutes we bantered back and forth.  At the end of the evening he and I talked while I waited for my friend.  He decided he should go ahead and give me his number since we were obviously going to put each other down as matches.  When I hugged him bye he told me that we'd make out soon.

He and I texted back and forth that evening, and that was it.  A few days later I sent him a message asking if he was free the next night.  He replied, "I have friends in town. Sorry." I responded with a polite "no worries," and then decided to send a follow up, "But for some reason your phone didn't send your second text.  You know the one that reads 'However, are you free on such and such day?' You should get that checked out."  No response.  The following week I tried the no smart-ass approach and just asked, "How's it going?"  Still nothing.  Obviously this was going nowhere.  But you know me, I need to get one last shot in before I call it quits.  So a few days later on Father's Day, I sent him a final message, "Happy Father's Day?"  The next day he finally replied with a simple, "lol."  That's it.  If that's all the effort he's putting forth then I'm proclaiming him a dolt.

Sixty-eight

Sixty-eight is a bartender at my friend's restaurant, and when I first met him I wasn't thinking a thing about having a crush on him.  However, I was sitting at the bar with a friend and we were going to karaoke, so obviously I asked Sixty-eight when he had last gone to karaoke.  He told me he'd only been once, and I informed him that was about to change and that he would be going with us when he finished work.  Still not interested in him, I was impressed that he gave me his number and wrote "for all your karaoke needs" next to it and joined us in closing down a karaoke bar that night.  Throughout those few hours, he sang twice and politely agreed to slow dance with me during a Boys II Men song.  Bonus points to anybody for spontaneously joining two girls they've just met for a night of karaoke and going along with our silliness.

The following week I wanted to go to the movies and asked Sixty-eight if he was available.  He unfortunately had to work, but we started texting and I attempted to flirt because while I wasn't initially drawn to him for whatever reason, he was a nice guy and it never hurts to flirt with a nice guy.  Here's what you need to know about my flirting ability, it's neutral.  My personality is flirtatious and super friendly by nature.  I don't think I'm over the top flirty because I talk to pretty much everyone the same.  I could say something to one of my platonic friends and it's friendly in my head, but I could say the exact same thing to a crush and it's flirty in my head since I like them.  Anyhow, we had an entire text conversation that I thought was flirtatious, and I made the rare decision to not ask him out just yet.  That never happens.  Usually my brain says, "Oh, you're texting a guy and he's texting back? Ask him out right now." And then the boy throws his phone in the trash and runs away rather than reply.

A few days later another friend and I went into the restaurant for dinner. Sixty-eight was there and everything was casual and he was super charming and adorable.  When my friend and I asked for a single scoop of ice cream to split for dessert, he delivered us three desserts.  Maybe it was the sugar, but I swooned.  And then I started talking about sweatpants, ie "So much food, we are definitely wearing sweatpants to work tomorrow" and "I'm going straight home and snuggling up with my sweatpants." To top it off when I got home I texted him, "So happy that I have a ridiculous amount of legit sweatpants."  In retrospect, I know that talk of sweatpants isn't standard in the world of flirting (no matter how much I really do love sweatpants).  Sixty-eight never replied to that text, so fifteen hours later I decided to rectify the situation with this gem of a follow-up text, "...she said in her sexiest voice."  That got an immediate reply of a smiley face emoji.  I quit while I was ahead and locked my phone in a safe for two weeks so I don't scare him away again too soon.