I’ll admit right off the bat that I am not good at this game. I never have been. In fact I don’t really play it at all. But there I was, last Saturday night, with a group of strangers, dancing, and drinking, and simply enjoying the moment. Not a care in the world, and suddenly surrounded by men who “wanted” me. Well, probably not “me” necessarily… But a conquest of some sort.
So hours of dancing, and singing, and drinking (Did I mention the drinking?) later, I found myself with my new friend, in the wee hours of the morning, offering to be his tour guide for Nuit Blanche.
The plan: a quick stop back at his hotel to drop off his computer, and use the facilities.
No I’m not that naive… And I told him prior to our arrival that nothing was going to happen that night. (for a host of reasons)
Anyhoo… we dropped off his stuff, both used the facilities, and then we sat for a while, drank some water, steadied our drunken selves a bit, and watched the end of SNL while looking through my racing photos. Turned out he had been at the Toronto race with friends and is a photographer himself. It was all very comfortable and nice, but I was fading, and Nuit Blanche was calling (to me anyway)
But when I said “would you like to head out to Nuit Blanche?” He said “not really, but I would like to kiss you”
aww! how Sweet! And how very chick-flicky dialogue wise. (Brownie points from me, cause I’m a dork)
He was a very nice kisser. Very nice.
His skin and lips were soft, and he was sweet and gentle; not awkward and pawing like my last unwelcomed advance.
And he said lovely things like “you’re amazing” and “you’re beautiful” and “you’re so hot” (that last one of course elicited a self deprecating remark in return and a hearty guffaw, as “hot” has not been in my repertoire for decades, and I was dressed like a skater boy) Actually, come to think of it, that was the second time that night I was referred to as hot. Earlier one lad, who was clearly hitting on me, exclaimed “you’re too hot to be 48!!” When I revealed my age.
Speaking of chick-flicky, this is where my night turns into a tragic comedy… or comic tragedy, or both.
You see aside from not being a one night stand type of girl to begin with (not that there is anything wrong with that, it’s just not my thing) there was zero chance of anything happening anyway. A) Aunt Flo was in town B) I haven’t shaved my bits for quite a while, and my bobs could have done with some landscaping too. (hey I’m long time single and it’s the fall, in Canada, why bother?! Ain’t nobody got time for that) and C) I was wearing a comically tight, too small athletic top to keep the girls in place, which requires me to become a contortionist and break a sweat just to wriggle out of. So even if I was to overrule my rule, and A&B weren’t a factor, C would have been a deal breaker/mood killer right there. Hey, what do you expect? I was at a website building conference in classrooms and lectures all day. Not exactly a “hey, better ladyscape in case I hook up” scenario!
Further to that, I was wearing jeans, a polar fleece GAP hoodie, a ball cap, and Roots boots. Who knew that would elicit such attraction from the opposite sex?! I mean seriously?!
Anyway, as much as he tried to gently persuade me, I skillfully and kindly ended our make out session, and bid him adieu. (Without having to reveal any of my embarrassing reasons for bailing)
Thinking I would see him the next day at the conference, I also epically failed to provide or exchange any contact info with him before I left.
Sadly, or perhaps thankfully, he didn’t bother to show up for day two, and there has been no attempt at contact. (A fairly simple task considering the nature of the weekend and the fields we are in) If he’d been even remotely interested, he’d have found a way.
So, what did I learn from the whole exercise?
1. I’m just not a “hook up” type of gal. While we were making out I was already thinking ahead to how we would stay in contact, how often I would travel to see him and vice versa. Lets face it; I’m a relationship girl. Period. I’m either single or in a relationship. There is no wham bam thank you ma’am in my future. I couldn’t stomach it. Had we done the deed, and he’d not shown up the next day, and never contacted me, it would have bore into my soul. Every guy I’ve ever slept with, save for maybe one? (two?) I’ve known/dated/courted for at least 6 months in advance. I invest in my conquests. I feel I deserve the same in return. (upon reading this back, I had to laugh at the statement… “every guy I’ve ever slept with”… there have been 7. I can name them. BWAHAHAHA! So worldy… not)
2. I don’t need to be dressed to the nines, in my twenties, or a size 2 to attract the opposite sex. Who knew?!
3. I didn’t realize how much of a relief it would be to finally be kissed, on the lips, with passionate intention. So glad to erase the bad memory of the last kiss that tainted them.
4. David is “just not that into me”. If a total stranger found me interesting enough to kiss after one day, then he surely, after 2 yrs, and much enticing from me, could have found an opportunity to do the same. Chapter closed. Moving on.
5. I think I’m ready to put myself out there.