Cliche

If you're looking to meet a bunch of sloppy drunk guys who have convinced themselves they're intelligent, I suggest you check out a bar that hosts Trivia on Sunday nights.  But I warn you, it's really hard to be sober and harbor any attraction for the men, even the hot ones.  They've spent their entire day downing beers while watching football.  Now their eyes are red, they smell like stale cigarettes, and think it's appropriate to talk to you with their face just three inches away from yours.

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before, but I'll say it again.

I have an issue with personal space.

There's a scene in Dirty Dancing where Swayze is trying to teach the girl with the big nose how to dance and he says, "This is my dance space.  This is your dance space.  I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine."

For me it's more like, "This is my life space, stay out of it unless you're invited in."

Side note: I totally would have invited in the young and healthy Swayze version.  Not so much the old dead one.

So anyway, two guys come up to our table of three girls.  One sits down next to L.G. and the other stands at the edge.  Standing Guy is the one who thinks I won't be able to hear him unless our noses are practically touching.  He's in the middle of talking nonsense when Sitting Guy burps into the face of L.G. and then looks out into space completely unaware of his disgusting act.  

We can't help but laugh at the idiot and then he asks, in all seriousness, why we're laughing.  No one bothered explaining.

Standing Guy proceeds to relay his earlier experience of watching a guy stroke the hair and neck of another guy.  He's considerably homophobic.  In describing the scene he proceeds to re-enact the gestures on me, but without actually touching me.

I felt like I was in the middle of a horrible "no touching" game.  I was bracing myself for impact the whole time and I'm pretty sure it was clearly written on my face.

Then it happened.  He touched the back of my neck and I basically jumped out of my seat.  

Hey!  Spaghetti Arms!  Reel 'em back in. 

Then we all just kinda of stared at each other awkwardly hoping they would get the point, but drunk guys never do.  So we got up and left.

This past weekend was full of birthdays and dancing.  A first time visit to the enjoyable hipster-ish Mandrake and reunion with the reliable V Lounge.  

White guys can get away with dancing to the 50s music spinning at the Mandrake way more than they can get away with trying to grind to Katy Perry at the V Lounge.

Just saying.

So every time I see a guy that I'm attracted to the same thing happens.  A stupid grin flashes briefly across my face and I immediately blush.  

I haven't even made eye contact with him yet and I'm already a mess.  It's awful!

Then I proceed to stare at him until he's no longer there. 

Every.  Time.

This is exactly what happened at the Mandrake.  I can't even picture the guy without thinking, "Damn, he was hot."

So he left (sigh) and I found myself talking to another guy.  He was cute and a little awkward which is perfect for me.  At the end of the night he asked me if I had a card.  I said no, but I have a number.

Giving a guy at a bar my number?  I'm rarely so cliche.  There must have been something in the water.

He called the next night.  At 12:30am.  Come on.

But, points for calling over sending a text, and honestly, he left a nice message.  He figured I'd be out, hoped I was having fun, wants to take me to dinner.

So I called him back, got voicemail, asked him why exactly he thought calling at 12:30am was a good idea and instructed him to call me back.  

I was just being sassy, but he may now think I'm just a bitch.  Very possible as it's a common misunderstanding.  We'll find out I guess.

Until the update, I'll leave you with this remark I made to my roommate not too long ago.

Remember that game where you held a fishing pole with a magnet on the end and you tried to grab fish out of the circle as they moved around, opening and shutting their jaw?  Dating in this city is 1000x harder than that. No one wants to open their mouth unless it's to be filled with pussy.

                                                                            

I think that's a fair assessment.