When I last left off, I had just received my email from the Hott Waiter. I was trying not to get my hopes up, so it was a delicious surprise.
He had asked me if there were a better way to get in touch with me, and I joked with him and gave him my email.
I didn't hear from him for a few days. (This was over Thanksgiving.)
While at work on Friday, I received a text. The message read roughly as follows:
What's up - it's the Hott Waiter. thought i would say hi and maybe we could arrange that private show for you really soon.
I let out a shriek.
"What is it?" my co-worker Holly asked from a few desks away.
I threw my cell phone at her.
She grabbed it, read the text and started squealing. She then proceded to ask me, yet again, if he had a friend or a brother or SOMEONE for her!
I decided to play it cool to the Hott Waiter, responding, "I'd like that," later in the evening, but I didn't have to. He beat me to it.
By about 6:00 PM, I had received a call from him and hadn't even realized it -- I was probably in the shower.
His message, roughly:
"Hey, it's the Hott Waiter. Hope all is well, hope we get to talk soon. My number is [555-555-5555]. Well, have a great night!"
YAY. YAY. YAY.
I played it for my friends when they came over. Heh.
I called him back but couldn't get hold of him, so I left him a message that was a tad long and rambling, and I hope he found it funny or at least charming. This is not the time to be boring. He will never remember me if I'm boring.
He called me back today, leaving another message (I swear I have to take my phone off vibrate!) and I called him back right after.
We proceeded to talk for well over an hour.
It was great! The conversation had a great speed and agility to it, if that makes sense. He definitely did most of the talking, and the only low points were when I said something that didn't quite gel right, but then we shifted back into something normal. I'm still really nervous when talking to him and trying to say the right thing.
Here are some tidbits of the conversation:
--He lives alone in a three-bedroom apartment in a city that's a tad far from mine, but easy to get to via public transit. (I can drive, too.) I didn't ask whether he rented or owned.
--He is a RELATIONSHIP GUY! Wow. He was with his last girlfriend for 3 years. She was crazy and jealous, especially since he's the (hott) lead singer of a band and has girls all over him, but he's definitely a one-girl man. He's been single for 9 months.
--I learned all about his siblings, his hometown and where he went to high school (it's that prominent all-boys Catholic school in our city).
--He gets hit on all the time at the restaurant, including by guys, including one very awkward time when an old guy came up to him and kiss his neck.
--His three cats all have gay names, and he acknowledges that people think so, but he's very secure with himself. I told him that Windy thinks he's gay. He laughed and said he knows one thing he can do to prove her otherwise....but he won't do that....except that, well, he WANTS to! We laughed. I was blushing like crazy over the phone.
--This is the most important part: the reason why he kept giving me those cards to fill out was so I would "get the hint" and give him my number!!! I told him to take MY hint by emailing me!!! We laughed about that. He asked if I brought Windy and Blondie there a few days later so they could check him out, and I kind of jokingly evaded the question, but told him that they approved, though Windy thought he was gay.
Anyway, here's the major thing:
WE ARE GOING OUT ON OUR FIRST DATE ON THURSDAY.
SQUEAL!!!!
I have no idea what we're going to do or what's going to happen, but I am SO EXCITED!!! He briefly (and jokingly) floated the idea of me coming over to watch a movie, but I'd never do that for a first date. We'll see....
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Holiday Party
At work there had been a lot of talk about a potential Christmas party. But, unfortunately, with an unmotivated group of restaurant people, plans were moving at a snail's pace and the date ultimately set for the party was in late January, nearly a month after Christmas. The theme was Ugly Christmas Sweater, and the prize that went to the ugliest sweater were two plane tickets courtesy of Jet Blue to anywhere they fly out to. I was determined to win and went on the hunt for the ugliest sweater and then purchased a bunch of tacky decorations from a craft store to further tack it up.
Dandy wasn't motivated enough to make a sweater of his own but he made my heart skip a beat when one day we were hanging out at his house and he commented how nice it would be if I won and we could fly up to my home state together. He said he'd never been there before and he thought it would be fun. Proposing a trip together? If that didn't insinuate a desire to move forward in a relationship I don't know what did.
Finally the party rolled around and I had created a most fugly sweater. I thought I was a sure thing for the win.
I wasn't.
An older woman in her 50s was instead awarded the prize. As soon as I saw that she had dressed up, I knew she'd win. She was the mother figure of the workplace, so when I saw her, I said to Dandy, "Well, I'm fucked."
They announced the winner, it wasn't me, so I hit the bar.
Dandy and I got hammered. I proceeded to dance, and I don't dance. Then I pulled Dandy onto the dance floor. Now, I know that I said I don't dance, but Dandy? REALLY doesn't dance. Dandy proceeded to awkwardly gyrated his hips to the amusement of every single person we work with. Eventually we tired of making asses of ourselves on the dancefloor and after a few more beers/cocktails/shots, we cozied up in a booth and proceeded to passionately make out again to the amusement of all of our co-workers. We kissed and grabbed and whispered how we couldn't wait to rush home to bed. Drunken horny talk is sooooo sexy.
Our time at the place rented for the party drew to a close, but everyone wanted to keep the party going. Neither of us had drove, so our DD escorted us to a downtown bar where Dandy just barely made it inside. He ordered a double tall Jack and Coke and proceeded to down it and pass out sitting up in a chair. Countless people kept coming over and asking if he was alright. I knew that my night just got a whole lot more exciting. Now I got to baby-sit! Eventually the bar closed and we went outside to our DD's car. On the way, Dandy, who was wearing heavy soled shoes, managed to drunkenly stomp onto my foot, I was wearing flip flops. The full force of his body weight shattered my toe. My toenail split and a piece chipped off as it began bleeding. I limped to the car, dragging Dandy behind me, and we crawled into the backseat as I swallowed and hoped the immense amount of alcohol I'd consumed would numb the pain.
When the DD pulled up to Dandy's house, I practically threw out my back pulling Dandy to his feet. Thankfully he never locks his front door, so I pushed it open and then locked it behind me as I tried to guide his stumbling drunk ass to his bedroom. Somehow, he managed to disrobe down to his boxers and flopped facedown diagnally across the bed. I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from his dresser drawer and crawled into bed, pushing his unconscious body aside.
One thing was for sure, as the pain in my foot came rushing back to me, as I watched Dandy sleep, snoring loudly with drool puddling around his mouth, I wasn't going to be having any sex tonight.
The next day, I woke up way before Dandy. This was typical. Even though I'm hardly what you'd call a morning person, I can't ever sleep in late when I'm away from my own bed. So I had previously located all of the books in Dandy's room, and would sit up and read until he got up. Currently I was making my way through "A Million Little Pieces" the partially-fabricated memoir of James Frey. Exaggerated or not, it was a good read. Dandy eventually woke up with a hellacious hangover and very little recollection of the tail end of the party. He didn't even remember that we had moved to a second location for an after party and was puzzled as to how we got home. Suffice it to say he didn't remember crushing my toe, and I showed him by damaged bloody toenail. He cringed.
We laughed it off and got into my car to go retrieve Dandy's vehicle from the parking lot of the bar that hosted our Holiday Party. I had already been given that night off of work thanks to the Gods of scheduling, and Dandy was in sorry shape, so he immediately was on the phone to the Bossman to beg for the cut. He sounded pathetic enough that he was given the night off, so we headed over to the local fried chicken chain down the road (Classy I know). Dandy was going to pay but naturally, he didn't have enough money and I ended up paying. Needless to say, this was not exactly Dandy's finest hour. At least the cashier totally called him out for not paying for his lady's lunch. I added an "Amen, sistah." We ate, made tentative plans for that evening (dinner, which he would actually pay for... for real) and a movie. We finished up our greasy lunches and each went home, ending the ordeal that was our work Holiday party.
Dandy wasn't motivated enough to make a sweater of his own but he made my heart skip a beat when one day we were hanging out at his house and he commented how nice it would be if I won and we could fly up to my home state together. He said he'd never been there before and he thought it would be fun. Proposing a trip together? If that didn't insinuate a desire to move forward in a relationship I don't know what did.
Finally the party rolled around and I had created a most fugly sweater. I thought I was a sure thing for the win.
I wasn't.
An older woman in her 50s was instead awarded the prize. As soon as I saw that she had dressed up, I knew she'd win. She was the mother figure of the workplace, so when I saw her, I said to Dandy, "Well, I'm fucked."
They announced the winner, it wasn't me, so I hit the bar.
Dandy and I got hammered. I proceeded to dance, and I don't dance. Then I pulled Dandy onto the dance floor. Now, I know that I said I don't dance, but Dandy? REALLY doesn't dance. Dandy proceeded to awkwardly gyrated his hips to the amusement of every single person we work with. Eventually we tired of making asses of ourselves on the dancefloor and after a few more beers/cocktails/shots, we cozied up in a booth and proceeded to passionately make out again to the amusement of all of our co-workers. We kissed and grabbed and whispered how we couldn't wait to rush home to bed. Drunken horny talk is sooooo sexy.
Our time at the place rented for the party drew to a close, but everyone wanted to keep the party going. Neither of us had drove, so our DD escorted us to a downtown bar where Dandy just barely made it inside. He ordered a double tall Jack and Coke and proceeded to down it and pass out sitting up in a chair. Countless people kept coming over and asking if he was alright. I knew that my night just got a whole lot more exciting. Now I got to baby-sit! Eventually the bar closed and we went outside to our DD's car. On the way, Dandy, who was wearing heavy soled shoes, managed to drunkenly stomp onto my foot, I was wearing flip flops. The full force of his body weight shattered my toe. My toenail split and a piece chipped off as it began bleeding. I limped to the car, dragging Dandy behind me, and we crawled into the backseat as I swallowed and hoped the immense amount of alcohol I'd consumed would numb the pain.
When the DD pulled up to Dandy's house, I practically threw out my back pulling Dandy to his feet. Thankfully he never locks his front door, so I pushed it open and then locked it behind me as I tried to guide his stumbling drunk ass to his bedroom. Somehow, he managed to disrobe down to his boxers and flopped facedown diagnally across the bed. I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from his dresser drawer and crawled into bed, pushing his unconscious body aside.
One thing was for sure, as the pain in my foot came rushing back to me, as I watched Dandy sleep, snoring loudly with drool puddling around his mouth, I wasn't going to be having any sex tonight.
The next day, I woke up way before Dandy. This was typical. Even though I'm hardly what you'd call a morning person, I can't ever sleep in late when I'm away from my own bed. So I had previously located all of the books in Dandy's room, and would sit up and read until he got up. Currently I was making my way through "A Million Little Pieces" the partially-fabricated memoir of James Frey. Exaggerated or not, it was a good read. Dandy eventually woke up with a hellacious hangover and very little recollection of the tail end of the party. He didn't even remember that we had moved to a second location for an after party and was puzzled as to how we got home. Suffice it to say he didn't remember crushing my toe, and I showed him by damaged bloody toenail. He cringed.
We laughed it off and got into my car to go retrieve Dandy's vehicle from the parking lot of the bar that hosted our Holiday Party. I had already been given that night off of work thanks to the Gods of scheduling, and Dandy was in sorry shape, so he immediately was on the phone to the Bossman to beg for the cut. He sounded pathetic enough that he was given the night off, so we headed over to the local fried chicken chain down the road (Classy I know). Dandy was going to pay but naturally, he didn't have enough money and I ended up paying. Needless to say, this was not exactly Dandy's finest hour. At least the cashier totally called him out for not paying for his lady's lunch. I added an "Amen, sistah." We ate, made tentative plans for that evening (dinner, which he would actually pay for... for real) and a movie. We finished up our greasy lunches and each went home, ending the ordeal that was our work Holiday party.
The Hott Waiter: Part III
The Hott Waiter had told me when his days off were, so I was prepared. We went last Tuesday: me and two of my friends, Windy and Blondie. Miranda was supposed to come, but it ended up being just the three of us. Blondie made the reservation and requested the Hott Waiter in advance.
Windy was there first, and she had spent about 10 minutes chatting with the Hott Waiter. He wasn't there when we sat down, and he returned to the table. "Oh," he said, simply (but not rudely, even if it sounds like that!), when he saw me. "I didn't recognize the name on the reservation. How are you?"
That began the most memorable night of all.
We talked and giggled. Both Windy and Blondie agreed that he was gorgeous.
I asked him how his birthday was. It was great, and he had been celebrating for several days. He was also about to go to one of my favorite artist of all time's concert nearby.
Next time he dropped by, he looked at me and said, "[Jones], right?" "Yes," I gasped. I couldn't believe he remembered. A face is one thing -- a last name is something else altogether.
(Break. Eating food.)
Later on, we started talking about movies, and I think the Hott Waiter mentioned that he was about to see one, and Blondie asked him about what kinds of movies he liked. He said that he liked horror movies, and I winced to myself, since I hate scary movies. Windy told him the last horror movie she had seen was Scary Movie, and that's it.
Blondie suggested another movie to him, and the Hott Waiter said, "Well, maybe I could take [Samantha]," and went on talking about something else without missing a beat. Squeal.
(Break. Eating food.)
Now, this is where it got weird. The Hott Waiter was talking about animals with us (he has cats, and I teased him for being a "crazy cat man") and mentioned that he used to date "a person" in a city about six hours away who had a dog. Now, you may believe that to be an innocuous statement.
Given my paranoia, I decided that that could mean he was gay and said "person" because he couldn't say girl!!!!
That brought forward the possibility that he was gay and had been flirting with me for one of the following reasons: 1) boredom/entertainment 2) sadism/wanting to make fun of me 3) (most likely) trying to get a new regular and therefore more money.
I didn't want him to be gay, but I had to prepare myself for the possibility that he didn't like me. I did not want to invest too much in this guy and get hurt again.
Suddenly, I felt hands on my shoulders. The Hott Waiter was GIVING ME A BACKRUB. I turned around. "You looked tense," he said. (Well, I kind of have this habit of sticking out my collarbones because I think the more they stick out, the skinnier and therefore more attractive I look....so that's probably why I looked more tense.)
Later on, he brought us our dessert menus. He handed them to Windy and Blondie, then kept inching his hand forward and handing it to me, then pulling it away whenever I got close. You girls know that stuff like that ANNOYS ME TO NO AVAIL.
"Okay," I said, "the last person who did that to me got HURT."
"Well, that's not such a bad thing," he replied.
I went to the bathroom a bit later, and for the first time, I opened the door on my own. When I got back, the girls told me that he hadn't said anything about me when I was away from the table.
And then he pulled out his book.
And inside of it was the card that I had filled out last time.
I knew he probably hadn't kept it since the last time, and he had probably just swiped it from the desk. Still, though....
Nonetheless, this time, he handed me yet another card to fill out. I filled it out, and this time I put my actual address. (Hillary had received a thank you card from the restaurant after filling out her actual address.) I drew a curvy arrow next to my address and wrote, "Only so I can receive the card in the mail!
I then made Blondie and Windy add a few lines, so they added "[the Hott Waiter] was wonderful!" and stuff like that.
We left. He helped Blondie with her coat, but he had to go by the time they got my coat out of the closet.
I didn't expect to hear from him. I figured that he had had his fun, and he was probably gay, and this was all a game to him.
Five days later -- last night -- I received an email from him.
Hey, what's going on? It's [the Hott Waiter] from [the restaurant]. Here's my band's myspace, I know you said you were interested. So, do you have a better way to get ahold of you? I might even play some songs for you myself. Hope to talk to you soon.
YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES.
Miranda called it the sexiest email she had ever seen.
After much deliberation, I responded nearly 24 hours later, teasing him a bit but also giving my phone number.
What happens next?
We'll have to wait and see.
Oh, God, I hope this works out!!!!
Windy was there first, and she had spent about 10 minutes chatting with the Hott Waiter. He wasn't there when we sat down, and he returned to the table. "Oh," he said, simply (but not rudely, even if it sounds like that!), when he saw me. "I didn't recognize the name on the reservation. How are you?"
That began the most memorable night of all.
We talked and giggled. Both Windy and Blondie agreed that he was gorgeous.
I asked him how his birthday was. It was great, and he had been celebrating for several days. He was also about to go to one of my favorite artist of all time's concert nearby.
Next time he dropped by, he looked at me and said, "[Jones], right?" "Yes," I gasped. I couldn't believe he remembered. A face is one thing -- a last name is something else altogether.
(Break. Eating food.)
Later on, we started talking about movies, and I think the Hott Waiter mentioned that he was about to see one, and Blondie asked him about what kinds of movies he liked. He said that he liked horror movies, and I winced to myself, since I hate scary movies. Windy told him the last horror movie she had seen was Scary Movie, and that's it.
Blondie suggested another movie to him, and the Hott Waiter said, "Well, maybe I could take [Samantha]," and went on talking about something else without missing a beat. Squeal.
(Break. Eating food.)
Now, this is where it got weird. The Hott Waiter was talking about animals with us (he has cats, and I teased him for being a "crazy cat man") and mentioned that he used to date "a person" in a city about six hours away who had a dog. Now, you may believe that to be an innocuous statement.
Given my paranoia, I decided that that could mean he was gay and said "person" because he couldn't say girl!!!!
That brought forward the possibility that he was gay and had been flirting with me for one of the following reasons: 1) boredom/entertainment 2) sadism/wanting to make fun of me 3) (most likely) trying to get a new regular and therefore more money.
I didn't want him to be gay, but I had to prepare myself for the possibility that he didn't like me. I did not want to invest too much in this guy and get hurt again.
Suddenly, I felt hands on my shoulders. The Hott Waiter was GIVING ME A BACKRUB. I turned around. "You looked tense," he said. (Well, I kind of have this habit of sticking out my collarbones because I think the more they stick out, the skinnier and therefore more attractive I look....so that's probably why I looked more tense.)
Later on, he brought us our dessert menus. He handed them to Windy and Blondie, then kept inching his hand forward and handing it to me, then pulling it away whenever I got close. You girls know that stuff like that ANNOYS ME TO NO AVAIL.
"Okay," I said, "the last person who did that to me got HURT."
"Well, that's not such a bad thing," he replied.
I went to the bathroom a bit later, and for the first time, I opened the door on my own. When I got back, the girls told me that he hadn't said anything about me when I was away from the table.
And then he pulled out his book.
And inside of it was the card that I had filled out last time.
I knew he probably hadn't kept it since the last time, and he had probably just swiped it from the desk. Still, though....
Nonetheless, this time, he handed me yet another card to fill out. I filled it out, and this time I put my actual address. (Hillary had received a thank you card from the restaurant after filling out her actual address.) I drew a curvy arrow next to my address and wrote, "Only so I can receive the card in the mail!
I then made Blondie and Windy add a few lines, so they added "[the Hott Waiter] was wonderful!" and stuff like that.
We left. He helped Blondie with her coat, but he had to go by the time they got my coat out of the closet.
I didn't expect to hear from him. I figured that he had had his fun, and he was probably gay, and this was all a game to him.
Five days later -- last night -- I received an email from him.
Hey, what's going on? It's [the Hott Waiter] from [the restaurant]. Here's my band's myspace, I know you said you were interested. So, do you have a better way to get ahold of you? I might even play some songs for you myself. Hope to talk to you soon.
YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES.
Miranda called it the sexiest email she had ever seen.
After much deliberation, I responded nearly 24 hours later, teasing him a bit but also giving my phone number.
What happens next?
We'll have to wait and see.
Oh, God, I hope this works out!!!!
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Hott Waiter: Part II
Why did it take me so long to return to the restaurant? Even though I loved it dearly, it was three months later and I hadn't yet returned. Although Miranda and I talked about it all the time, amongst ourselves and with our other friends, I assumed that nobody would want to spend the money.
After talking with a few friends from work, however, three of us ended up there about a week and a half ago. After arriving with my friends "Hillary" and "Nadia," I noticed, with dismay, that the Hott Waiter would not be our waiter that evening.
I had told Hillary and Nadia all about the Hott Waiter beforehand, so they immediately started asking me if he was in the restaurant. I looked around and spotted him. He was still as good-looking as ever, with that thick, dark hair, those intense, dark eyes, and those sideburns -- haha, I loved the sideburns! I loved his butt, too, which was definitely checkouttable.
The waiter who we had was nice, friendly and awesome -- I absolutely LOVE the servers there! -- and we settled into our night, ordering martinis and appetizers.
Then the Hott Waiter walked by.
I caught his eye. And held it.
He stared back, looking over his shoulder as he walked by.
It felt like 30 seconds -- but it was probably less than two.
As soon as he was out of sight, I leaned into my friends and held my martini to my mouth, much like George Costanza when he didn't want the deaf girl to read his lips. "I just made eye contact with him," I told them, my heart jumping all over the place.
Come on. I never get like this. I was acting like I was in middle school again!
A few minutes later, the Hott Waiter came to our table.
"I remember you," he said.
I was ECSTATIC. I tried to keep only a tiny smile on my face, but I could feel myself blushing like mad.
"I was here in August," I said. "I had you." He didn't react. "I was with my friend. I sat over at that table." No recognition. "We asked you to show us where [that sports star] ate when he came in."
"Oh, yeah," he said. YES.
"I hear your name is [the Hott Waiter]," Nadia said. I wanted to kill her, but I continued smiling. We chatted with the Hott Waiter about our meals for a few minutes, and he left to take care of his tables. He had a few large parties that night.
I couldn't get over the fact that he remembered me! It had been months!
My friends kept encouraging and encouraging me, saying that he was soooo cute. The Hott Waiter was very busy that night (and, according to the amount of alcohol he served, he must have made a killing), but he occasionally dropped by our table. We learned that he was celebrating his birthday later in the week (turning 26 -- a Scorpio!) and he sang in a band. I told him about how I used to sing in college. He told me the days that he worked.
I got up to go to the bathroom. Just like before, I ran into him right in front of the door, and just like before, he held the door open for me to let me in. There was a paper towel on the floor, and he said, "Let me get that for you," and picked it up. Again, it was awkward. But oh, what I really wanted to do was grab him and pull him into the stall with me, where we could freely make out up against the sink.
Later, Hilary and Nadia went to the bathroom together, despite there only being two single-stall bathrooms, to give me a chance to have some alone time with the Hott Waiter, if he ever did come around again. He didn't. He looked busy, though.
(When the girls came back, he said to all of us, "I was supposed to come and talk to her, wasn't I?" I became a tomato again, as I had been all night.)
At the end of the night, instead of our waiter, the Hott Waiter brought by the usual cards to fill out. He handed one to Hillary. And then he handed one to me. "You should fill this one out," he told me.
YAY!
I filled it out, but again, did not put my actual address. I included my email, wrote down the usual fawning compliments, and added a note: "I would love to learn more about [the Hott Waiter's] purpotedly amazing band" and drew a curvy arrow toward my email address.
That's most of what I remember.
Days later, I debated like crazy with Hillary and Nadia over whether he was actually interested in me. Hillary is an eternal optimist, so she kept asking me to find out whether he had a brother for her once we started going out! Nadia encouraged me to go for it.
But I held back. What if they were wrong? What if I ended up hurt and embarrassed and unable to return to my favorite restaurant?
So I decided to come back the following week.
After talking with a few friends from work, however, three of us ended up there about a week and a half ago. After arriving with my friends "Hillary" and "Nadia," I noticed, with dismay, that the Hott Waiter would not be our waiter that evening.
I had told Hillary and Nadia all about the Hott Waiter beforehand, so they immediately started asking me if he was in the restaurant. I looked around and spotted him. He was still as good-looking as ever, with that thick, dark hair, those intense, dark eyes, and those sideburns -- haha, I loved the sideburns! I loved his butt, too, which was definitely checkouttable.
The waiter who we had was nice, friendly and awesome -- I absolutely LOVE the servers there! -- and we settled into our night, ordering martinis and appetizers.
Then the Hott Waiter walked by.
I caught his eye. And held it.
He stared back, looking over his shoulder as he walked by.
It felt like 30 seconds -- but it was probably less than two.
As soon as he was out of sight, I leaned into my friends and held my martini to my mouth, much like George Costanza when he didn't want the deaf girl to read his lips. "I just made eye contact with him," I told them, my heart jumping all over the place.
Come on. I never get like this. I was acting like I was in middle school again!
A few minutes later, the Hott Waiter came to our table.
"I remember you," he said.
I was ECSTATIC. I tried to keep only a tiny smile on my face, but I could feel myself blushing like mad.
"I was here in August," I said. "I had you." He didn't react. "I was with my friend. I sat over at that table." No recognition. "We asked you to show us where [that sports star] ate when he came in."
"Oh, yeah," he said. YES.
"I hear your name is [the Hott Waiter]," Nadia said. I wanted to kill her, but I continued smiling. We chatted with the Hott Waiter about our meals for a few minutes, and he left to take care of his tables. He had a few large parties that night.
I couldn't get over the fact that he remembered me! It had been months!
My friends kept encouraging and encouraging me, saying that he was soooo cute. The Hott Waiter was very busy that night (and, according to the amount of alcohol he served, he must have made a killing), but he occasionally dropped by our table. We learned that he was celebrating his birthday later in the week (turning 26 -- a Scorpio!) and he sang in a band. I told him about how I used to sing in college. He told me the days that he worked.
I got up to go to the bathroom. Just like before, I ran into him right in front of the door, and just like before, he held the door open for me to let me in. There was a paper towel on the floor, and he said, "Let me get that for you," and picked it up. Again, it was awkward. But oh, what I really wanted to do was grab him and pull him into the stall with me, where we could freely make out up against the sink.
Later, Hilary and Nadia went to the bathroom together, despite there only being two single-stall bathrooms, to give me a chance to have some alone time with the Hott Waiter, if he ever did come around again. He didn't. He looked busy, though.
(When the girls came back, he said to all of us, "I was supposed to come and talk to her, wasn't I?" I became a tomato again, as I had been all night.)
At the end of the night, instead of our waiter, the Hott Waiter brought by the usual cards to fill out. He handed one to Hillary. And then he handed one to me. "You should fill this one out," he told me.
YAY!
I filled it out, but again, did not put my actual address. I included my email, wrote down the usual fawning compliments, and added a note: "I would love to learn more about [the Hott Waiter's] purpotedly amazing band" and drew a curvy arrow toward my email address.
That's most of what I remember.
Days later, I debated like crazy with Hillary and Nadia over whether he was actually interested in me. Hillary is an eternal optimist, so she kept asking me to find out whether he had a brother for her once we started going out! Nadia encouraged me to go for it.
But I held back. What if they were wrong? What if I ended up hurt and embarrassed and unable to return to my favorite restaurant?
So I decided to come back the following week.
The Hott Waiter: Part I
In August, Miranda and I decided to check out a restaurant in the city where we live. This restaurant is in the trendiest dining neighborhood, features New American cuisine, and it's the favorite restaurant of one of our city's most beloved professional athletes (of whom Miranda is a very big fan).
We had an early reservation, and there weren't too many people in the restaurant. We were seated and took a look at the menus.
Then our waiter arrived.
Tall. Dark. Young George Clooney-esque.
I couldn't stop staring.
Miranda couldn't stop laughing.
Miranda has a bit of a problem -- she tends to laugh uncontrollably at inappropriate moments. This was one of them. He just came over and he was so handsome....also, I'm usually fine -- I just blush like crazy -- but when Miranda starts going, I can't help it and join in with the giggles.
In between bringing us our drinks, bread and appetizers, we started getting to know our waiter. Miranda asked him to point out everywhere in the restaurant that our city's famous athlete had sat. The Hott Waiter pointed out all of them and told stories. Miranda was delighted.
I was delighted, too, but in a different way. When I really like someone, REALLY like him, I become an introvert. Maybe it's because when something's important, I don't want anyone else to know. It's primal. If it's just a guy on the street, I'll catcall along with my friends, but this time, it was serious.
A word about this restaurant: it's the kind of restaurant that's impossible to hate. It's classy -- trendy enough to be good for a special night out, but relaxed enough to make it a frequent destination. The prices are high, but not sky-high, especially for our city. The menu features plenty of creative and varied choices, but plenty of more normal options for less adventurous palates. It's no wonder its clientele consists largely of regulars.
And the service. I've been there a few times (as I'll explain later) and what I love about the servers there is that they're so open, and friendly, and real. Often in fine dining restaurants, the servers are overly formal and robotic, and that doesn't put you at ease. After a night out at this restaurant, you and your server know so much about each other, and you're probably on your way to becoming friends!
The Hott Waiter was like that. He spent a lot of time just hanging out and chatting with us, and we loved it. At the end of the night, we filled out cards with our names and addresses on them. I didn't include my actual address, but the rest of the information, including my email, was true.
At one point, I got up to go to the bathroom. The bathrooms there are single stalls. I walked past the bathroom, and he opened the door (which opened into the stall, so he was literally standing inside it), said "Miss," and opened the door for me. It was a tad awkward.
Before leaving, Miranda and I told the Hott Waiter our real names (we already knew his) and left the restaurant, still giggling away, saying that we absolutely HAD to return as soon as possible.
We had an early reservation, and there weren't too many people in the restaurant. We were seated and took a look at the menus.
Then our waiter arrived.
Tall. Dark. Young George Clooney-esque.
I couldn't stop staring.
Miranda couldn't stop laughing.
Miranda has a bit of a problem -- she tends to laugh uncontrollably at inappropriate moments. This was one of them. He just came over and he was so handsome....also, I'm usually fine -- I just blush like crazy -- but when Miranda starts going, I can't help it and join in with the giggles.
In between bringing us our drinks, bread and appetizers, we started getting to know our waiter. Miranda asked him to point out everywhere in the restaurant that our city's famous athlete had sat. The Hott Waiter pointed out all of them and told stories. Miranda was delighted.
I was delighted, too, but in a different way. When I really like someone, REALLY like him, I become an introvert. Maybe it's because when something's important, I don't want anyone else to know. It's primal. If it's just a guy on the street, I'll catcall along with my friends, but this time, it was serious.
A word about this restaurant: it's the kind of restaurant that's impossible to hate. It's classy -- trendy enough to be good for a special night out, but relaxed enough to make it a frequent destination. The prices are high, but not sky-high, especially for our city. The menu features plenty of creative and varied choices, but plenty of more normal options for less adventurous palates. It's no wonder its clientele consists largely of regulars.
And the service. I've been there a few times (as I'll explain later) and what I love about the servers there is that they're so open, and friendly, and real. Often in fine dining restaurants, the servers are overly formal and robotic, and that doesn't put you at ease. After a night out at this restaurant, you and your server know so much about each other, and you're probably on your way to becoming friends!
The Hott Waiter was like that. He spent a lot of time just hanging out and chatting with us, and we loved it. At the end of the night, we filled out cards with our names and addresses on them. I didn't include my actual address, but the rest of the information, including my email, was true.
At one point, I got up to go to the bathroom. The bathrooms there are single stalls. I walked past the bathroom, and he opened the door (which opened into the stall, so he was literally standing inside it), said "Miss," and opened the door for me. It was a tad awkward.
Before leaving, Miranda and I told the Hott Waiter our real names (we already knew his) and left the restaurant, still giggling away, saying that we absolutely HAD to return as soon as possible.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
My OkCupid Traits
I have become obsessed with OkCupid recently. It's an ingenious site -- it's a free dating site, and it also creates a personality for you through questions that you answer. In order to match up with more people, who need to answer more questions.
In time, if you answer enough questions (I've answered 280), you receive personality badges.
Here are mine:
--More Desiring of Sex (that was my first and eternal)
--More Cocky
--More Socially Free
--More Extroverted
--More Kinky
--Less Old-Fashioned
--Less Pure
--Less Trusting
Others that I had at times, but have since disappeared, include Less Compassionate (I don't think that is true AT ALL -- I'm an extremely compassionate person) and More Spontaneous.
Thoughts?
You girls should join....
In time, if you answer enough questions (I've answered 280), you receive personality badges.
Here are mine:
--More Desiring of Sex (that was my first and eternal)
--More Cocky
--More Socially Free
--More Extroverted
--More Kinky
--Less Old-Fashioned
--Less Pure
--Less Trusting
Others that I had at times, but have since disappeared, include Less Compassionate (I don't think that is true AT ALL -- I'm an extremely compassionate person) and More Spontaneous.
Thoughts?
You girls should join....
I'm Weeded
Things with Dandy were going pretty well. Already I had surpassed whatever pseudo-relationship I had had with Rocky because not only did Dandy and I exchange phone numbers, he also called and texted me several times a day. I usually received a nightly, "I hope you had a good night at work, sleep well" text, and it was just one of those little gestures that girls love. It was just such a nice change of pace to have someone so interested who was open to showing that they cared.
We hung out whenever free time allowed, and he even brought me around to hang out with all of his friends. They seemed like a chill group of guys, fun and easy to get along with. Best of all, they all apparently took a liking to me because, frankly, [WARNING: NARCISSISM AHOY!] I'm awesome. I'm funny, smart, easy to get along with, and can definitely hang with the guys. I'm also pretty easy on the eyes. Apparently they had never been big fans of his ex-girlfriend, whom they deemed immature, selfish, bratty and idiotic. They actually pulled me aside to tell me how happy they were that I inspired Dandy to ditch her and thanked me profusely. I was feeling pretty good about my prospects because being "in" with the friends is definitely a major plus.
A lot of our time was spent socializing in a group, but Dandy and I did also get in some one on one time here and there. After a few beers, the conversation typically shifted towards us and our budding relationship, and Dandy asking where this was going. I was trying hard to break my pattern of being a strict monogamist, so I was still trying to play the cool, laid-back chick role. I didn't want to push for a relationship for fear of being deemed too needy and ruining the good thing that we had going. I actually never brought up the subject, it was always Dandy. This too, instilled me with hope, because if he had it on the brain, I thought it was only a matter of time before things did get serious. But, again I wanted to be seen as the "cool, badass chick" I'd already established prior to any romantic interests surfaced, so I usually shrugged off his questions with a "whatever."
I was pretty confident that I had chosen the right course of action, because Dandy responded with relief that I alleviated any pressure for commitment. He said that he liked me a lot and labelled us as "seeing each other" also known as "dating."
To me, "dating" still speaks of commitment to some degree. And in retrospect, it probably would have benefitted me to have the actual terms and conditions that pertained to "dating" Dandy, but being new to the whole dating game, I didn't.
We hung out whenever free time allowed, and he even brought me around to hang out with all of his friends. They seemed like a chill group of guys, fun and easy to get along with. Best of all, they all apparently took a liking to me because, frankly, [WARNING: NARCISSISM AHOY!] I'm awesome. I'm funny, smart, easy to get along with, and can definitely hang with the guys. I'm also pretty easy on the eyes. Apparently they had never been big fans of his ex-girlfriend, whom they deemed immature, selfish, bratty and idiotic. They actually pulled me aside to tell me how happy they were that I inspired Dandy to ditch her and thanked me profusely. I was feeling pretty good about my prospects because being "in" with the friends is definitely a major plus.
A lot of our time was spent socializing in a group, but Dandy and I did also get in some one on one time here and there. After a few beers, the conversation typically shifted towards us and our budding relationship, and Dandy asking where this was going. I was trying hard to break my pattern of being a strict monogamist, so I was still trying to play the cool, laid-back chick role. I didn't want to push for a relationship for fear of being deemed too needy and ruining the good thing that we had going. I actually never brought up the subject, it was always Dandy. This too, instilled me with hope, because if he had it on the brain, I thought it was only a matter of time before things did get serious. But, again I wanted to be seen as the "cool, badass chick" I'd already established prior to any romantic interests surfaced, so I usually shrugged off his questions with a "whatever."
I was pretty confident that I had chosen the right course of action, because Dandy responded with relief that I alleviated any pressure for commitment. He said that he liked me a lot and labelled us as "seeing each other" also known as "dating."
To me, "dating" still speaks of commitment to some degree. And in retrospect, it probably would have benefitted me to have the actual terms and conditions that pertained to "dating" Dandy, but being new to the whole dating game, I didn't.
Friday, November 09, 2007
I don't trust myself at the reunion.
My high school reunion is coming up in a few weeks, and I'm nervous.
Part of me wants to do that Beyonce master cleanse, eating nothing but a mixture of lemon juice, maple syrup, cayenne pepper and hot water for 10 days or so. I've got a bit of a chub problem, particularly in the arms, as was recently evidenced in pictures from a night out last week.
Maybe I'll just get some Spanx.
Anyway, I don't trust myself NOT to hook up with anyone.
The reunion is not too far from my apartment, since I made the unoriginal decision to live in the major city near the town where I grew up. Because of that, I have three friends staying over
with me after the event, including Miranda.
Which means that asking a guy back will be REALLY hard.
Oh, God.
I KNOW IT'S GOING TO HAPPEN. I'm going to hook up with somebody at the reunion.
Another thing -- you guys know that you started joking that I was going to hook up with a guy. Let's call him Oxy for the reason that he tried to rob a store for oxycontin back in high school before dropping out just before graduation. And I never thought of him -- but as soon as you guys started saying that, more and more, I've been thinking about him....
Oh, God, I can't do this.
Part of me wants to do that Beyonce master cleanse, eating nothing but a mixture of lemon juice, maple syrup, cayenne pepper and hot water for 10 days or so. I've got a bit of a chub problem, particularly in the arms, as was recently evidenced in pictures from a night out last week.
Maybe I'll just get some Spanx.
Anyway, I don't trust myself NOT to hook up with anyone.
The reunion is not too far from my apartment, since I made the unoriginal decision to live in the major city near the town where I grew up. Because of that, I have three friends staying over
with me after the event, including Miranda.
Which means that asking a guy back will be REALLY hard.
Oh, God.
I KNOW IT'S GOING TO HAPPEN. I'm going to hook up with somebody at the reunion.
Another thing -- you guys know that you started joking that I was going to hook up with a guy. Let's call him Oxy for the reason that he tried to rob a store for oxycontin back in high school before dropping out just before graduation. And I never thought of him -- but as soon as you guys started saying that, more and more, I've been thinking about him....
Oh, God, I can't do this.
Life Love Lessons from Sam Jones
Here are a few of the life lessons I've learned from relationships and other romantic interactions:
--If you're not attracted to him now, you never will be. Don't try to force it. Don't try to convince yourself that you'll make it work. It will not happen.
--Don't underestimate the importance of attraction. It is VITALLY important.
--Money does not buy happiness.
When you actually learn that lesson, it will be much more subtle than you think. For me, I thought it would be perfect -- we could get a great place in Boston, I'd never have to work, he'd make enough money....but I didn't love him. The situation would have been so good, and so comfortable, and I'd never have to worry. I'm so thankful I got out of that situation when I did.
--When you hate someone, that can often increase your attraction to him exponentially.
--Sometimes someone who isn't your type will surprise you.
--Don't cheat. It will haunt you every day for the rest of your life and make you doubt yourself every day.
I wish I could get over this. I've been punishing myself for nearly a year and a half.
--If he has a small dick, RUN FOR THE HILLS.
--If you're not attracted to him now, you never will be. Don't try to force it. Don't try to convince yourself that you'll make it work. It will not happen.
--Don't underestimate the importance of attraction. It is VITALLY important.
--Money does not buy happiness.
When you actually learn that lesson, it will be much more subtle than you think. For me, I thought it would be perfect -- we could get a great place in Boston, I'd never have to work, he'd make enough money....but I didn't love him. The situation would have been so good, and so comfortable, and I'd never have to worry. I'm so thankful I got out of that situation when I did.
--When you hate someone, that can often increase your attraction to him exponentially.
--Sometimes someone who isn't your type will surprise you.
--Don't cheat. It will haunt you every day for the rest of your life and make you doubt yourself every day.
I wish I could get over this. I've been punishing myself for nearly a year and a half.
--If he has a small dick, RUN FOR THE HILLS.
Relationship Musings...
It's getting kind of late, and I've been feeling very introspective and very stream-of-consciousness lately. So I decided to jot down a few things I've learned over the years from my various relationships that I think are important for every young woman to know when approaching romantic relationships:
*Nobody wants to date Superman
When you're dating someone who has a problem, whether it be an affinity/addiction to drugs, a mental disorder like Depression, love isn't always enough. And you can never use your love to fix a problem. Sometimes caring isn't enough. You can't always be the hero and rescue someone from themselves and change them in order to fit them to the mold of the relationship. Saving someone is what great friends do, but most guys don't want to feel like they need to be taken care of by their woman.
*When a guy tells you that he has never told anyone that he loves them, and that he believes that he is "incapable of love," RUN.
Run far away. Don't convince yourself that you can be the one who will make him see the light and that one day he will be overcome by his emotions and profess his love for you. Much like dating a serial cheater and believing that you will somehow be the One who will change his philandering ways. By even admitting it, he's doing you a favor and giving you an out. Believe what he says, and end it there. If love is what you're looking for, a guy like this will never be able to give you what you need.
*Sexual attraction and a great friendship doesn't always translate into a solid relationship.
You can be friends and find each other attractive, but at the core, if there's no real compatibility in terms of what you want from a prospective partner, don't try to force something that's not there. Settle for a great friendship, and feel free to sprinkle in a little innocent flirtation here and there, just always make sure to set a boundary that you don't cross.
*Most guys DO want what they can't have.
How many times after you split from a guy do you just wish that one day he'll come to his senses and come back to you, begging for forgiveness and to give it another go? How many times do you attempt the tactic of being cold and distant and even pursuing casual relationships with other guys knowing it will get back to your ex? Realistically though, what do you expect to happen once he's overcome with jealously and starts chasing after you? Will all of the problems you had before suddenly melt away? Will you finally be able to keep him, after he came to see what he had lost?
Probably not. Which brings me to my next point.
*Break-ups happen for a reason.
They call them "break"-ups because the relationship is BROKEN. It's pretty much never worth giving it another go, because aside from a few extreme cases, whatever the roots of the problem that resulted in the initial break-up were, they will still be there. You can love someone with all your heart, but the only way to be fair to yourself and the other person, you need to recognize when a romantic relationship is impossible to maintain.
*Good things come to those who wait.
Every time a relationship ends, you feel utterly lost and hopeless. You feel like you'll never have another chance at love, and that feeling of desperation typically manifests into a desire for what was lost. Even if you got out of an unhealthy relationship, in retrospect, everything is romanticized in your sad and warped little mind, and you obsess over what you did wrong and how to get your Ex back. Let it go. There IS something better out there. And don't be afraid when it takes a little longer to find it. Despite what movies, television and magazines tell you, there is no definitive timeline of finding love. Don't pressure yourself to pursue dead-end relationships just to feel like you've found what everyone tells you you should be looking for. Never feel like you're the only single girl out there because you are not alone. And cherish your singledom and use it as an opportunity to realy get to know You, and what you really want out of life, love, relationships. Figure out what it is you want, what it is you need, and you'll find that when the next guy comes around, you won't have to waste your time and emotion on someone who isn't worth it.
*Never settle..
...for anything less than butterflies.
Ladies, I'm sure you have some other excellent personal philosophies you've cultivated for yourselves and your relationships over the years, so feel free to add your own musings to my list.
*Nobody wants to date Superman
When you're dating someone who has a problem, whether it be an affinity/addiction to drugs, a mental disorder like Depression, love isn't always enough. And you can never use your love to fix a problem. Sometimes caring isn't enough. You can't always be the hero and rescue someone from themselves and change them in order to fit them to the mold of the relationship. Saving someone is what great friends do, but most guys don't want to feel like they need to be taken care of by their woman.
*When a guy tells you that he has never told anyone that he loves them, and that he believes that he is "incapable of love," RUN.
Run far away. Don't convince yourself that you can be the one who will make him see the light and that one day he will be overcome by his emotions and profess his love for you. Much like dating a serial cheater and believing that you will somehow be the One who will change his philandering ways. By even admitting it, he's doing you a favor and giving you an out. Believe what he says, and end it there. If love is what you're looking for, a guy like this will never be able to give you what you need.
*Sexual attraction and a great friendship doesn't always translate into a solid relationship.
You can be friends and find each other attractive, but at the core, if there's no real compatibility in terms of what you want from a prospective partner, don't try to force something that's not there. Settle for a great friendship, and feel free to sprinkle in a little innocent flirtation here and there, just always make sure to set a boundary that you don't cross.
*Most guys DO want what they can't have.
How many times after you split from a guy do you just wish that one day he'll come to his senses and come back to you, begging for forgiveness and to give it another go? How many times do you attempt the tactic of being cold and distant and even pursuing casual relationships with other guys knowing it will get back to your ex? Realistically though, what do you expect to happen once he's overcome with jealously and starts chasing after you? Will all of the problems you had before suddenly melt away? Will you finally be able to keep him, after he came to see what he had lost?
Probably not. Which brings me to my next point.
*Break-ups happen for a reason.
They call them "break"-ups because the relationship is BROKEN. It's pretty much never worth giving it another go, because aside from a few extreme cases, whatever the roots of the problem that resulted in the initial break-up were, they will still be there. You can love someone with all your heart, but the only way to be fair to yourself and the other person, you need to recognize when a romantic relationship is impossible to maintain.
*Good things come to those who wait.
Every time a relationship ends, you feel utterly lost and hopeless. You feel like you'll never have another chance at love, and that feeling of desperation typically manifests into a desire for what was lost. Even if you got out of an unhealthy relationship, in retrospect, everything is romanticized in your sad and warped little mind, and you obsess over what you did wrong and how to get your Ex back. Let it go. There IS something better out there. And don't be afraid when it takes a little longer to find it. Despite what movies, television and magazines tell you, there is no definitive timeline of finding love. Don't pressure yourself to pursue dead-end relationships just to feel like you've found what everyone tells you you should be looking for. Never feel like you're the only single girl out there because you are not alone. And cherish your singledom and use it as an opportunity to realy get to know You, and what you really want out of life, love, relationships. Figure out what it is you want, what it is you need, and you'll find that when the next guy comes around, you won't have to waste your time and emotion on someone who isn't worth it.
*Never settle..
...for anything less than butterflies.
Ladies, I'm sure you have some other excellent personal philosophies you've cultivated for yourselves and your relationships over the years, so feel free to add your own musings to my list.
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