So my after Christmas party was a success. It turned into an after holiday, holiday party after encouraging people to dress accordingly…
“Dress attire: Ugly sweater, new years best, pilgrim outfit, Halloween costume, or first day of school outfit. We are celebrating the last couple of months all in one evening. If you had a birthday you can even wear your birthday suit… but please wear a robe over it.”
Unfortunately my New Yorker did not show up. I know all you people were rooting for him to make an appearance… he probably just didn’t have anything to wear. Being a million miles away or having a job that requires 80-hour weeks had nothing to do with it. Yup, nothing to do with being an important business man, he really just didn’t feel like dressing up as a silly pilgrim or wearing his Halloween costume. Confused what I am talking about? Read this blog post!
For those who are wondering what I dressed as, I had to go with an ugly sweater. But it in fact wasn’t ugly at all, it was actually quite adorable. You see, I lost my boyfriend on new years and he has been resurrected as the ghost of Christmas past on my shirt. Cookie has returned to me. True love never dies, it is always with you, whether it is on a shirt or just in your heart. Confused as to what I am talking about? Read this blog post!
As the party was dwindling down a few of us decided to go to the bars. Still wearing my Minion sweater, we ran into this guy I knew in high school. He’s a looker and has that well groomed facial hair — you know, the kind you see on most country singers. AND for those of you who don’t know, I LOVE a guy who can pull off some facial hair! If you have a good smile and pretty eyes with some stubble, that’s my kind of man. There is just something real manly about that.
So, I was standing at the bar with him and my friend Olive. I jokingly said, “Let’s play a game.” I was kind of bored and wanted to liven things up a bit. I didn’t have anything in mind but I thought between the three of us we could come up with something entertaining.
So Stubbles said “Lets see how many men hit on you guys.”
I looked at him and replied, “Well I’m at one!” and looked at him. These are those moments I love, one simple comment and I just made him feel so nervous and it was soooo cute.
Stubbles giggled and said, “Nooooo.”
Olive was busting up and I was like, “Ok, well I am back to zero.”
Then I wandered off and started talking to some of my other friends in the bar and Stubbles begin to walk out. I was pissed. No goodbye. No see you later. Nothing. Thinking he might be a bit shy (and I kind of put him on the sport earlier), I gave him the benefit of the doubt and went after him and ask him why he didn’t say good bye. He gave me that I didn’t know you care look and invited me to come with him and his friends… but I didn’t want to leave my friends. He then said he would like to see me again and I then told him that he should probably ask for my number then. He handed me his phone so I added my number. I did want to see Stubbles again. He was sweet, cute, and seemed to have his head on straight from what I can tell. And even if his head wasn’t on straight, at least it was covered in cute facial hair.
He didn’t text me that night. Which I thought was actually kind of respectful. Ladies, then you know your not a bootay call. The next morning I got to thinking…. I wonder why he hasn’t texted me. I mean I am pretty good at telling when a guy is into me and pretty good at judging a situation and predicting the first couple moves of a man. At least I’d like to think so.
That’s when I realized what I had really done. You know, that oh no moment. Well, when he asked for my phone number he had handed my his phone and I typed it in. You know how your fingers just get away from you sometimes and don’t do what you tell them to, or just go into auto pilot mode. Well at this point I was pretty sure I typed in my mom’s phone number.
So I called my mom to see if she had heard from him. Yup. She had. He in fact did text me that night and said, “It was good to see you, hope to see you again soon.” My mom then replied in the morning, “Probably not, I’m married and 56, you have the wrong number.”
Moral of the stories Ladies is that when you are drunk, make sure you give a guy YOUR number. But if for some reason you make the same mistake I do and give a guy your mom’s number its not an end all. Eventually Stubbles and I connected and have been talking since… one awkward moment is NOT an end all.