Chillin with Serial Dater
I went out with the Serial Dater last night. Let me just say that Serial Dater and I had an interesting connection. We decided exchange blogs. In retrospect, this was probably a bad idea as writing this entry I run this risk of losing at the very minimum a friend or a hook-up. And I will have trouble writing this because I know she will be reading it. She was definitely cute though, and resembles a girl I had a crush on in college. On an intellectual level, I really enjoyed getting to know this chick online, and on the phone. She seemed really smart and funny too.
We decided to meet at that big funky cube thing on Astor Place. We walk over to St. Marks so I can purchase some sunglasses. This was a cool little icebreaker. We tried on a bunch of different shades. I finally settled on a pair of aviators. I offered to buy her a pair but she already had some with here, and they looked pretty interesting. After that we walk over to DBA, a dimly lit beer bar on 1st Ave. The conversation is flowing effortlessly. This girl is pretty cool. We talked about pretty much everything under the sun including other dates, and ex’s which are taboo material for first dates, but its cool. We already have prior information because we have read each others blog’s. With each passing drink she looks cuter and cuter.
Eventually, we start getting hungry. We walk around the corner to MaryAnne’s for some mexican food. We got outside seating relatively quick, which provided us with our entertainment for the meal. Within 5 minutes of sitting down, some guy passes out on the street corner, and a crowd circles around him. The guy is breathing though, and kind of rolling around as if he was sleeping in bed and every few minutes attempts to get up. We debate with the couple at the next table whether he is just really drunk or on drugs. Eventually, police cars and an ambulance come take the guy away. That is cool though because we can get back to our ongoing conversation which was pretty damn good. On a side note, MaryAnne’s is not that great. The margarita’s tasted like shit. They were probably using some “plastic fantastic” type of tequila.
We finished up our meal and went for a walk. Strangely enough, we walk past the same guy who was passed out on the corner, struggling to walk only a few blocks away. Weird. At this point, I kind of get distracted. I originally planned to cut the date of at 11ish because I wanted to meet up with some friends and it’s already past that point. I spent the rest of the date on the phone intermittently. I am pretty drunk, and keep getting calls. What am I supposed to do? Apologize every few minutes. She says it’s cool, and that I am “Mr. Popular,” which is probably true. We walk in a circle and head to Bull McCabes to have a nightcap to end our date. We talk some more about some stuff I can’t remember at the moment over a whiskey drink. Girls that drink whiskey are cool.
I am having fun, and some stuff to do, so I invite her to go for a walk with me to pick up a “mystery” package at my friends building. I know this sounds really shady, that’s because it is. Surprisingly, she is really cool about it. We joke about my shadiness but I am actually pretty smooth. We go for another walk, and end up going to Swift for one more nightcap over which we will officially end our date. This is where the conversation gets racy as we start talking about sex toys, and hooking up. We actually talk about how we are going to make-out when the date is over. Cool. At this point, it is after midnight I completely drunk and the date ends. We make small talk and make out for a bit and say goodbye.
***This blog entry has been watered down. Check back for an update as the situation unfolds***
***Original Comments**
Fox said...
Z. You made my hangover. Laughed out loud 6 times.
I went out with the Serial Dater last night. Let me just say that Serial Dater and I had an interesting connection. We decided exchange blogs. In retrospect, this was probably a bad idea as writing this entry I run this risk of losing at the very minimum a friend or a hook-up. And I will have trouble writing this because I know she will be reading it. She was definitely cute though, and resembles a girl I had a crush on in college. On an intellectual level, I really enjoyed getting to know this chick online, and on the phone. She seemed really smart and funny too.
We decided to meet at that big funky cube thing on Astor Place. We walk over to St. Marks so I can purchase some sunglasses. This was a cool little icebreaker. We tried on a bunch of different shades. I finally settled on a pair of aviators. I offered to buy her a pair but she already had some with here, and they looked pretty interesting. After that we walk over to DBA, a dimly lit beer bar on 1st Ave. The conversation is flowing effortlessly. This girl is pretty cool. We talked about pretty much everything under the sun including other dates, and ex’s which are taboo material for first dates, but its cool. We already have prior information because we have read each others blog’s. With each passing drink she looks cuter and cuter.
Eventually, we start getting hungry. We walk around the corner to MaryAnne’s for some mexican food. We got outside seating relatively quick, which provided us with our entertainment for the meal. Within 5 minutes of sitting down, some guy passes out on the street corner, and a crowd circles around him. The guy is breathing though, and kind of rolling around as if he was sleeping in bed and every few minutes attempts to get up. We debate with the couple at the next table whether he is just really drunk or on drugs. Eventually, police cars and an ambulance come take the guy away. That is cool though because we can get back to our ongoing conversation which was pretty damn good. On a side note, MaryAnne’s is not that great. The margarita’s tasted like shit. They were probably using some “plastic fantastic” type of tequila.
We finished up our meal and went for a walk. Strangely enough, we walk past the same guy who was passed out on the corner, struggling to walk only a few blocks away. Weird. At this point, I kind of get distracted. I originally planned to cut the date of at 11ish because I wanted to meet up with some friends and it’s already past that point. I spent the rest of the date on the phone intermittently. I am pretty drunk, and keep getting calls. What am I supposed to do? Apologize every few minutes. She says it’s cool, and that I am “Mr. Popular,” which is probably true. We walk in a circle and head to Bull McCabes to have a nightcap to end our date. We talk some more about some stuff I can’t remember at the moment over a whiskey drink. Girls that drink whiskey are cool.
I am having fun, and some stuff to do, so I invite her to go for a walk with me to pick up a “mystery” package at my friends building. I know this sounds really shady, that’s because it is. Surprisingly, she is really cool about it. We joke about my shadiness but I am actually pretty smooth. We go for another walk, and end up going to Swift for one more nightcap over which we will officially end our date. This is where the conversation gets racy as we start talking about sex toys, and hooking up. We actually talk about how we are going to make-out when the date is over. Cool. At this point, it is after midnight I completely drunk and the date ends. We make small talk and make out for a bit and say goodbye.
***This blog entry has been watered down. Check back for an update as the situation unfolds***
***Original Comments**
Fox said...
Z. You made my hangover. Laughed out loud 6 times.
posted by Beezus H Christ at 12:19 PM
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