So, yes, I went on the date with E-bag. Even after the ridiculous three days of pouting and not speaking to me (he refers to this as Three Day Crickets during the course of our date and he was, in fact pouting).
First, I feel I should tell you that this man is good looking. He's tall, dark, built and has a great smile. We met a local (and delicious) restaurant, ordered drinks, an appetizer and some fish tacos. As the hostess sat us, I noticed him do a corner-eye check of her ass. Charming.
We talked about the normal stuff: what I do, what he does (sales), how awesome he is at his job and how all of his co-workers are jealous of his productivity. Keep in mind, I met him at the gym. If you aren’t familiar with “the gym,” get there! It’s rampant with self-absorbed toolbags and you are single so get your happy ass to the gym and work off some sexual frustration and some love handles. (More gym stories in later blogs.) Anyway, I find out he is mid-thirties, never married and has an 11-year old son. He looked at his phone a couple of times during dinner because we both had plans elsewhere after (Note: I did not look at my phone). He said he was going to call his friend and proceeded to do so. WTF? I decided I was NOT going to sit there like a dolt while he talks to someone else on the phone. FUCK that! So I went over to talk to the fabulous gay man that I happened to know at the next table, who tells me I look lovely and inquires about the man I am with, of course. Ladies! If you don’t have yourself a gay…pick one up on the way to the fucking gym! They are fabulous and they want to tell you how fabulous you are too. They’d be the perfect mates if they only liked pussy.
E-bag and I chatted a little more and decided to grab a smoke at the bar (neither one of us wanting to tell the other we did, in fact, smoke). After that, I kind of felt like there was a connection and he wanted me to stay but…alas, I had plans. We go to part ways and E-bag plants an unexpected peck on my lips and I think I licked him inadvertently.
Three glasses of wine in with Rita, I text him. Bad idea. He’s still out and asks me to stop by the bar on my way home for one more drink. So I meet E-bag and his buddy (a super cute, but married guy, with a charming and fun personality (Probably why he’s married, right! That bitch snatched him up!)) who have both clearly had a few drinks themselves. And E-bag is being a total doofus.
“Oh my god, you have to hear my wedding song! It’s the song I want played at my wedding. If I ever have one.” (Puppy dog eyes were employed here). It’s fucking, Tesla. Really? (Just is case you need a Tesla fix, here’s the song he played http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vwHuCC6nP8).
He then proceeds to then sing along with the song…TO ME!!! He gets irritated when I start talking to his friend while the song is playing and not listening to him. But he’s sweet, he thinks I’m wonderful, and wants to touch me (not like dirty touch – ok, well maybe dirty touch, but just have his hands on me). I’m so fucking starved for male affection (and slightly drunk) that I find this wonderful!
E-bag asks if he can come home with me. “Not for sex or anything”, just to sleep next to you.” I inform him that I have dogs that “sleep next to me.” E-bag seems put off by the fact that I let my dogs sleep in my bed and asks me to his place. Um, no. I have dogs that I will be going home to. So he walks me to my car (almost) and we start kissing on the curb. He’s a good kisser, but there’s this thing I have about the whole procedure. ..You know when a guy goes in for the kiss and they close their eyes and come at you? Something about that just weirds me the fuck out. Well, I guess that’s not entirely true. Some guys are really good at this, E-bag just reminded me of Anthony Michael Hall’s character from Sixteen Candles. You know? That geeky, awkward kid that has zero moves or tact. The kid that wants Molly Ringwald’s panties? Anyway, we kiss. We part ways. And then he texts me to make sure I get home safely. I respond that I did and thank him again for a fun evening.
2:30AM E-bag: A blast. Loved that last kiss btw
2:36AM E-bag: Crickets L
2:38AM Stoney: Nope. Dogs.
And then my phone rings! Ok folks. Know this… unless we are related (or you are Rita) I’m not answering my fucking phone after midnight for your stupid ass! It’s just not happening.
2:45AM E-bag Voicemail:
Hey babe. Just wanted to let you know that I had a great time with you tonight. Ummm… You just texted me, but ummm I’m getting um full on crickets once again from you. Seems to be a… uh staple with you. ummm. Anyway…just fuckin with you a little bit. …um… cause I have to. Anyway uh I wanted to let you know I had a fantastic time at dinner and I am so glad you showed up… at OPTs with me and Nate. And uh (pause) Awesome mulligan kiss by the way. I didn’t mean to be too aggressive and try to come back to your place. It wasn’t to have sex or anything like that. It was just because, I dunno know, uh I‘m a little older so I don’t actually have people that I go to dinner with and I have a lot in common with and I enjoy my time with and sometimes I just don’t want that to end and uh and that’s just me being a little FUCKIN baby. I apologize for that and I hope that we can get actually together again sometime. Have a great night sweatheart. Well talk to you later.
2:57AM E-bag: Called u got multi crickets
7:52AM (yea, I was kind of hoping this would wake him up. Whatever, I’m vindictive like that)
Stoney: No crickets. Don’t over-read me please. I had a great time. Went home. Took care of my dogs and put my phone on silent and passed out. I rarely have my phone on after midnight usually and if I do I probably won’t answer it that late unless it’s family.
11:19AM E-bag: I know I was kidding babe J I feel like doody right now ugh
Ok. So many things are wrong with this communication stream, I think a bullet list is best used here:
1. As Rita will attest, I never turn off my fucking phone. If my phone isn’t on, it’s because I’ve died and asked Rita to destroy it so that all evidence is lost.
2. My phone is rarely ever on silent unless I am at work. It’s my alarm clock for god’s sake.
3. Why the hell is this grown as man seemingly whining on my voicemail at damn near 3AM after one date? And why did I feel the need to defend not answering my phone at this asinine time?!!
4. Doody? Really, how old are we? Doody? I’m still not over this one.
Realistically, there will probably be a second date but strictly for research purposes. This stage 5 clinger would only stifle this blog and we can’t have that now, can we?
-The Fox
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