This weekend involved a surprise bachelorette party for my friend, Iris, in New York City. Now I don't remember a whole lot of Saturday night, but some important stuff went down. We started out at a rooftop bar overlooking the Empire State Building which was pretty awesome and then we moved on to some other club. It happened to be Fleet Week which kept making me think of Sex and the City when Charlotte showed her boob to some sailor. I didn't show my boobs, but I did dance with a couple of 21-year old sailors...or "juice boxes" as one friend described them (because if men are best when aged to a fine wine, these babies were juice boxes).
Iris introduced me to one of these juice boxes and I started dancing with him. I was pretty drunk at this point which is my only explanation for the rest of the night. I asked how old he was and he told me and I let him know that I was entirely too old for him. He said that he didn't mind and was dancing entirely too close to me--so close that I could pretty much tell exactly what he was after. In my drunken state, I felt so big sisterly to these boys that I didn't want them wasting their time with me. "I know that you're only here for a short time before you have to get back to your boat. If you're looking for sex, it's not happening with me, so you should look elsewhere if that's what you're after." Hilariously, the kid politely excused himself and I told him to be safe and use protection (because I didn't want him getting STDs or getting a girl pregnant). I had to tell another boy all this before I met the guy that I spent the rest of the evening with.
One of my married friends introduced me to Ted; for some reason I thought that he was in the Navy, too, and it must have been because I was too drunk to remember each time he told me that he wasn't. Anyway, he told me that he was 25 and I tried to pull the same stuff on him that I had on the little sailors by letting him know that sex wasn't happening and I'd have no hard feelings toward him if he went off somewhere. He refused to go and even asked me why I was trying to get rid of him. He claimed that he'd come into that part of the bar and paid the $10 cover because he'd seen me walking in. I...kind of doubt this, but it's flattering so I'll accept it. Anyway, Ted bought me a drink and maybe we danced? I don't remember if we did for long before we started making out in a corner. We'd stop every once in a while and say stuff, but we were definitely more interested in making out. I did learn his first and last name and he gave me a business card--and we exchanged cell phone numbers--but most of what we talked about is jumbled up in my mind. I did spend a while trying to convince him that he didn't want to be with me and remember saying, "You don't know anything about me!" to which he responded, "I want to know everything about you."
I told him that he was smooth and he said that he wasn't being smooth, he was just being honest. Yeah, right. He asked what my full name was and I told him, so then he repeated my first and middle names along with his last name. "No, no, NO!" I shrieked. "We're not doing that!" I have to hand it to him, though: as a player, he knew what I'd be interested in hearing. Obviously I don't want a random guy in a bar to bring up marriage to me, but hearing that marriage is a thing that crosses his mind? If I were a different kind of girl, it would have given me the warm and fuzzies. Shoot, it still entertained and charmed me enough to keep me making out with him for nearly two hours. My friends apparently would come by and check to make sure that I hadn't left the spot, but we kept doing that until last call.
I don't regret it, either. It was fun and the last time I did more than share a single kiss or two with a guy was back at the beginning of November when Nathan and I were still a couple. Anyway, I got a text message the next morning saying, "Wanna make out?" and I replied, "I'm on my way to Mass and I'm pretty sure that God disapproves of that happening in His house." I hoped that he'd message back, but he never did, so I'm guessing that that's the end of that guy.
Even though Iris and I have zero recollection of this, when we got back to our friend's apartment after the bar, we argued for a half an hour over who looked better naked, her fiance, Carl, or a mutual friend of everyone's that I did a little more than make out with a couple times back in college, Trey. We were both apparently very adamant that our respective guys would win in a "Naked off" but there was no winner. Except all of our less drunk friends who got to hear about it all. Ha!