Love, Licking & Betrayal

Picture from the411shopaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com.

Picture from the411shopaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com.

Last night, my friend *Jen was hanging out at a club after an event we attended pondering whether she should stay.  A guy, who contained many of the qualities she appreciated in an initial encounter, approached her.  He was smart, witty, personable and not bad on the eyes.  He had her at hello.  Needless to say, her decision was made.

At the top of their conversation he requested complete candidness.  He told her, “You just be you, I’ll be me and we’ll get to know each other.  No pretenses.”  She was thrilled!  It’s not every day that you meet someone who fits your prototype of a picture-perfect guy and values transparency.  She found it refreshing.

Throughout the night, shots upon shots of top shelf liquor allowed for more free flowing conversation.  She basked in the glow of his swagger.  He entertained her with funny anecdotes and lighthearted teasing.  His charm and quick wittedness continued to intrigue her as he flashed her award-winning smiles. 

It came time for him to leave.  They exchanged phone numbers.   Jen departed shortly thereafter.  As she was driving in the parking lot, she almost ran him over with her car!  Dressed in all black, she didn’t see him at first.  His close encounter with the pearly gates seemed not to faze him.  He knocked on her window.  She rolled it down.  Their flirtatious banter continued…then it happened. 

Our gentleman caller leaned in for a kiss.  She turned her head, so the end result was a kiss on the side of her mouth leading to an aggressive tongue rolling up the middle of her cheek.  Gross!  Licks on the side of the face should have a three date minimum.

Jen texted him when she got home.  The licking might have been weird, but she decided not to write him off so easily.  He responded to her text with a phone call.  He stated that he rode with a friend who was dropping him off home.  Once there, he agreed to call her back so they could arrange a perfect ending to their almost perfect evening…with more conversation.

Now, remember that part where I said there were shots involved?  We-ell, they took their toll on Jen.  She fell asleep on top of her phone.  She woke up this morning to a flashing voicemail light.  A bit dazed and confused, she groggily picked up her phone and punched in the voicemail code.  He called – just like he said he would!

Perfect-club guy:  “It was so great talking to you.  I had a really fun time this evening.  I just wanted to tell you, don’t call this number back.  I’m in the process of changing it.  I can’t wait until we connect again!”

Jen thought to herself, “How odd?  I lost a phone number within a few hours of getting it.  That’s a first.”  During the course of their conversation, they had also exchanged Instagram handles.  She transitioned into PI mode.  The explanation for his abrupt message became clear.  Mr. Lick-your-face was actually in a relationship – a serious one.

There are several adjectives that come to mind.  Creep tends to stand out more than the rest.  So through all of that “candid” conversation, it never occurred to him to mention he had a girlfriend.   And how would she feel about his “tongue & cheek” act?  Shenanigans.  I won’t get all preachy on why he was wrong because it’s pretty obvious. The whole debacle does leave me with one crucial question though: I wonder if he licks his girlfriend’s face too?

Just a Hair Overboard

Hair Too Much.jpg

*No frogs were smooched in the making of this story*

A few years ago, I was coupled up with a few friends for a night out on the town.  We settled in at a low key bar with minimal patrons.  The basement was a vast space with a nice size dance floor, a bar, and a lonely DJ awaiting our arrival (at least in my version of it). 

My friends and I requested song after song.  The DJ's extensive collection allowed him to grant our every wish.  Soon other people started filing in.  Among them was Gabe, a guy I'd met at a wedding the year prior.  If anyone knew how to start a party, it was Gabe.  I knew we were in for a good time.

Gabe initiated a cat walk/ dance competition with the ladies.  We.were.fierce.  I whipped my Chaka Khan-like hair piece back and forth (and yes, this was before Willow Smith's time).  Me, the girls and Gabe danced around each other, creating our own music video.  Others joined in.  We were having the time of our lives. 

I slowed down for a beat, then a Beyonce song came on.  I went in full force again.  To further enhance my performance, I  added a flip of my hair - only there was no hair to speak of.  My "piece" was missing.  Sacre bleu!  Panic stricken, my eyes darted around the basement.  I noticed my friend's husband with his buddy in the corner motioning me to come over.  Apparently they had been trying to get my attention for a while.  They saw my hair slide across the floor, and were holding on to it for safe keeping.  Talk about a major wardrobe malfunction!

I've since increased the amount of hair pins I use and decreased the intensity of my head whipping.  Lesson learned...

 

Popping Pimples and Getting High

                                         &nb…

                                                                              Picture from beyouthful.net.

My best friend has referred to us as the "Odd Couple".  We are exact opposites in so many ways.  She is highly critical, exercises her right to free speech at will and is not easily appeased.  I, on the other hand, am more of a rainbows and butterflies kind of a gal.  Don't get me wrong - I've thrown out my share of Italian hand gestures.  And she sent me a birthday card with a random unicorn on it.  We both have our quirks, which is why the friendship works (and probably why we want to slap each other around from time to time).  Her feedback to me usually centers around the fact that I need to be more discerning.  My counterargument is that she needs to be more open and accepting.  This next story makes me think that she might have a point...

*cue dream sequence*

It was a warm Spring day about three years ago.  I was at a stoplight when I noticed a pesky bump on my face.  Okay, so here's the thing: if I have a pimple, I pop it.  If I see one on your face, it bothers me. And I want to pop it.  It's that simple.  Every single one of my friends calls me a weirdo.  I own it.

Back to the story at hand.  So I notice this bump on my face and waged war on it using my visor mirror for assistance.  On my right hand side, I noticed a cute guy sitting in his car watching me...popping a pimple.  Great!

He smiled then I smiled.  I wrote him off since he was in the right turn only lane.  It was only a matter of seconds before fate would separate us anyway.  To my surprise, he pulled alongside me about halfway up the next street and signaled me to pull over.  I was a little skeptical, but we were in an open area so I brushed it off. We exchanged numbers in the parking lot of a nearby gas station.

Two days later he called.  A few minutes into the conversation told me everything I needed to know.  We were COMPLETELY incompatible. Why, you ask?

Me: So how do you like to spend your free time?

Him: Getting high.

Me: Ummm...I'm sorry.  I don't think I heard you correctly.

Him: I like to get high.

Me: Oh ok.

I quickly ended our conversation and we never spoke again.  I whined to my best friend about my terrible luck with the opposite sex.  Her response put it all into perspective for me: "You were popping a pimple in your car and you're surprised the guy pursuing you gets high?"  Touche...

Perhaps next time I'll use one of these in the privacy of my own home :-)

Perhaps next time I'll use one of these in the privacy of my own home :-)