Showing posts with label Dating Is Bullshit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dating Is Bullshit. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

My tummy loves Blackwater.

I had a date last night. Yeah, that's been happening a lot lately. Dating is bullshit, but it also is not. Seeing as I've only had one bad date, I'm kind of digging this whole dating thing.


Last night was my first date with Travis, the guy I blogged about texting with the other day. Seeing as how our text message conversations have been riveting and full of hilarity, I was very damn excited to meet him in person. He has a thing for old-fashioned military pinup girls, so I decided to go with something to accentuate the hourglass figure. :) I wore a fitted black pinstripe pencil skirt that hugs my curves, a green button up shirt, a black lace camisole, black pantyhose and black peeptoe pumps.

Yeah, he's 5'9". I'm so cruel.

We agreed to meet at one of my favorite bars, the one where I used the best pickup line ever. I ended up getting there a little early, luckily, because so did he. He looked adorable in jeans and a button up shirt, and was far cuter than his profile pictures. We picked a table and sat down. There were some fun awkward silences... He was a little quiet, but he found me to be entertaining. Which, hi? Awesome.

There was definitely an attraction in the air... Even though we both joked about how we were incredibly ugly and stupid, lol. The conversation flowed better as the night progressed, and the sexual innuendo was rampant. It was really fun, I was actually disappointed it had to end.

He walked me outside, and cracked a joke about how he needed a stepladder... And then he kissed me. And it was lovely and wonderful. He's a good kisser.

We talked for a while again last night and today. We've got plans to see each other again, just trying to figure out what we're going to end up doing. :) And I'm very pleased with this plan.

Chalk one more in the 'decidedly NOT bullshit' column for the dating tally.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Breathe... Just breathe.

Breathe really is a funny looking word, isn't it? It seems like there shouldn't be an 'e' on the end of it.


I really have the urge to write something. I'm not sure exactly what that is yet, but keep hanging with me and I'm sure I'll spark something witty and hilarious. And if not, you're welcome. This will be a few minutes of your life you'll never get back.

Yesterday was an interesting day... Hung out with Erf and Erflet, had our family time. As we were walking around Target, I got some texts from Jason. The long and short of the story is that I ended up urging him to get back together with his ex-girlfriend. Yeah, that stung a little. Mostly the lost potential. But I am trying to keep reminding myself that things work out the way they're supposed to, and if Jason and I are meant to have a relationship things will work their way toward that eventually. And if he's meant to be with his ex, then I did the right thing.

Still hurts. Oh well. Feelings are bullshit anyways. As long as he's happy, and we can still be friends. Because really, he's far too awesome to let go of as a friend. I need someone to finish watching Firefly with. :) I've already made good progression toward talking my girl brain down from her crazyness. I'm sure by tomorrow I'll be back to normal for the most part. And of course I'll behave myself, because I don't pee in another girl's litterbox.

Both literally and figuratively.

Today is Halloween and I'm pretty damn pleased to say that I am crafting a pretty fun costume this year. I found a homemade blue dress at Savers for $7, made iridescent sequined shoes, and I'm going as an Ice Queen. I'm pretty excited, because ice means covering myself in sparkly stuff. And I love me some sparkly stuff! :)

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Oh my dear lord...

This was just too funny not to make into a blog post. Here is a conversation I had this afternoon with a guy I met on OkCupid (texts are typed verbatim):


Me: Perhaps. I don't kiss and tell. :)

Guy: LOL but do you swallow :p

Me: It is the difference between like and love... ;)

Guy: Really that's how you let a guy know you love him lol

Me: No, otherwise I would be in love a lot...

Guy: LMAO your such a smartass

Me: Usually... Few can keep up with me in a battle of wits.

Guy: Good thing I fight with sarcasm

Me: I sense a challenge. Don't think I won't kick your geriatric ass, old man.

Guy: You must have me confused with your other men

Me: Probably. You're all so interchangable.

Guy: Just like women

Me: Playing the 'lump the gender into a stereotype' game, huh? lol

Guy: LOL one hole is the same as another ;)

Me: Very nice, that was pretty good. But the fetus cannon doesn't talk.

Guy: Neither should the cum dumpster

Me: Agreed. Women spew forth such worthless drivel.

Guy: You are hilarious

Me: Thank you, I agree. :) You're doing a decent job keeping up with me.

Guy: I think we will get along just fine

Me: I think so, too. Thus far you've kept my interest.

Guy: I have a penis I'm sure it's not difficult

Me: That was brilliant.

Me: But is it enough to keep my attention beyond giggling?

Guy: It's not porn star quality but it gets the job done as long as your not as big as the grand
canon (I think he meant canyon, lol)

Me: It's like fuckin a bucket, just so you know...

Guy: So I can stick my head in and wiggle my ears

Me: Sweet, my own personal gspot tickler.

Guy: LOL

Me: Hot dog down a hallway? Wrench in a closet?...

Guy: Hear an echo

Me: Hell yes. It comes with it's own spiderwebs...

Guy: Now I know thats bullshit cause it gets WAY too much action to build cobwebs

Me: You're assuming the guys are large enough to hit the bottom.

Guy: I'm sure you have a midget to clean it out

Me: OMG, no. That's a great idea. It's hard to get my hand up that far.

Guy: Gues I'm gonna just have to stick to using your ass

Me: Let's just say I could shit a Lincoln and not feel a thing.

Guy: Damn your just all stretched to hell

Me: Yep. You picked the used car of whores...

Guy: Well I hope your bj's are amazing cause you're going to be doing them a lot then

Me: They're best when I take my teeth out...

Guy: Awesome never had a gum job

Me: Sweet. I love gumming a hairy nutsack.

Guy: Too bad I shave my balls

Me: Less hair to cough up later.


And checkmate.

Monday, October 24, 2011

I really do turn a lovely shade of merlot when I'm embarassed...

Today I went out for lunch with my mom and a few of her co-workers... We went to Applebees. Because, duh, 2 for $20? Of course!

I gorged myself on boneless wings and ate 1/4 of my salad, but whatever.

We had a really cute server. Really cute. Of course everyone at the table comments on it, and I agreed...

I smiled, held my glances a few times, being generally flirtatious, but trying not to be overly so. He brought us some plates for our appetizers and asked if we needed anything, and I said something along the lines of no thank you, but I didn't look at him. My mom comments on how flirty I was.

Um, huh? Wha? I didn't even LOOK at him! Apparently the flirt was in my voice. Huh.

So then he commented on her nails, and I kind of struck a conversation about how I designed them and he was smiling and flirting, and I was smiling and flirting back.

After he walks away from the table and we THOUGHT he was out of earshot, my mom and I turn to each other and say, "Now THAT was flirting!"

He walks back and says, "Yes, it was!"

I turned such a lovely shade of deep red at that point. It was still nice to have our suspicions confirmed. :) Luckily he was really cool about it and it didn't really get awkward, but I just had to write a blog post about it. It was too funny.

Yes, I left him the link... Clever, no?

Alright, back to Castle to distract myself from my piece of shit phone being a total douche canoe and not working. AGAIN. Less than two months until I'm eligible for upgrade... Less than two months until the archaic motherfucker gets it's ass traded in for credit...

I will have a replacement coming in, but it doesn't get in until Wednesday. Until then, I can only make phone calls. FML. *sigh* Oh, well.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Holy mother of crack, guys are squicky.

Seriously though!


So as many of you probably already know, I've joined OkCupid to try and score some dates and meet new people. Of course, you'll always run into creepers.

My first creeper was actually before coffee date guy, a guy who messaged me simply asking, "Do you ever let that heel dangle off the end of your foot?"

Um, I'm really not into foot fetishes you weirdo. I'm sure there are women out there willing to flog your log with their feet, but I'm not one of them. Nor will I take a dump on your toes.

Then there was coffee date guy. Nuff said.

There was a guy who did nothing but respond to everything I said with some comment about how cute or hot he thought I was. Then it progressed to him telling me he thought I looked 'toned' (see also: WTF?) and that he thought I could probably lift him. And would I lift him cradle or piggyback? He didn't think I could sling him over my shoulder. But he was nice enough to say he hoped that I wouldn't fall carrying him. Then he told me he wouldn't mind kissing me.

Flirting: you're doing it so wrong.

Then came the mother of all creepers... The married guy looking for a mistress.

It started off with the typical innocent, 'what are you up to tonight?'

It progressed into him telling me he was looking for some adult fun and that he can't send me pics (his profile was ass blank, which was my first red flag) because he's on the 'downlow'.

Downlow? Really? Is this a fucking drug deal, you retard?

Second red flag. This is looking like a bull fight.

Eventually I ask him why, if he's banking $100k (also: yeah fucking right!), is he on here. He could easily be getting girls pretty much anywhere.

He's married and unsatisfied in bed. Looking for a fuck buddy and some occasional conversation. Yeah, even I can't keep up the prodding at this point. I was done.

Honestly, this is when, 'does this smell like chloroform to you?' isn't just a cute and quirky pickup line. It's for real. That's the sort of shit that gets you stuffed in a trunk then eventually tied up in a torture chamber.

And not the good kind.

Also, I'm not the kind of girl who is willing to be a knowing party to a cheater. I can't bear the guilt of knowing I'm causing someone I don't know pain. There's just no call for that. If you're that unsatisfied, you should work it out with your wife.

Besides, if I'm going to have casual sex with a rich guy, I want it to be a single one so I don't have to worry about pretending to be a telemarketer if I call him and his wife answers the phone.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Just one more thing I have in common with Debra Morgan.

If you don't know who Debra Morgan is, well, I just feel sorry for you not having experienced the wonder that is Dexter. I heart him like whoa, and I would so marry him and make Harrison a good mama.


Anywho.

So Sunday night was my date with drywall guy, and this date actually went rather well! I met him at a local brewery/pizzeria owned by a couple I know (sending business to the locals, ftw!) around 7. Yes, I texted my mom to let her know when I got there. Apparently by 9 she was beginning to get worried. Good thing beer has a direct line to my bladder, because I texted her when I was peeing and she relaxed a little.

We had a good date, it was low key, and there was beer and pizza... Which, hi? Awesome.

I told him I thought he sounded surprised when I called him last week, and he said that he was. He told me he was driving and thought it was a client calling, and had to pull off to the side of the road because he was so shocked. Yeah, I was totally 'awww'ing on the inside. :) So sweet.

I'm pretty sure he's around 40, which is what I have in common with Debra Morgan. He's kind of like my Special Agent Lundy. Except I haven't slept with him. The night ended in a hug, which was nice. He hasn't called yet, but I'm not too stressed out. If I don't hear from him by tomorrow I'll call him. There was some confusion, he may be waiting for me to call. I'd feel a little bad if that's the case!

I've been talking to a few guys from OkCupid, and they're all pretty cool so far. One in particular is hilarious, one is sweet, and the other is also a little older but witty and smart. So I've got a little rainbow of flavor going on.

God it's good to be keeping busy! Except this motherfucking cold that's creeping up on me. I wanna kick it in the taco so hard it's great grandchildren will be born walleyed.

Alright, I know it's a short post but I'm heading to bed now to try and whip this cold's ass. Tomorrow calls for vitamin C with a strong chance of hot tea.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Wow, 100 posts already!

Too bad I'm such a dipshit about writing new blogs. But at least I usually write about something entertaining! Right?...


*crickets* Ahem.

I have a complaint, kittens. I recently joined OkCupid for fun, hoping to meet some new people and maybe score a few dates. I have learned a hard lesson about dating websites. Because of course my first date from an online source would be stereotypical. Jesus. My complaint isn't about OkCupid (though some of their 'match questions' are seriously lame. WTF.), but about my first date.

I was messaged by a guy who had a nice, original message complimenting my profile and how he thought I put a lot of thought into it and thought I was funny. I already knew that. We started IMing, and his picture was cute and his profile was nice. He asked if I wanted to meet for coffee.

Well, I was sitting at home with nothing to do, so I figured why not. I told him I had to take a quick shower, then I'd be happy to meet him at a local coffee place. It's public and busy, so no real risk. I texted my mom letting her know my whereabouts so she could send the fuzz after me if I disappeared. Bases were covered.

I show up and I'm waiting for him, and not seeing anyone who looks like his profile picture. (Yeah, make your jokes about this sounding like a bad rom-com) A guy walks up to me and says, "Ashley?" Um, hi... You look nothing like your profile.

I now ask any guy I'm messaging with to send me a recent pic.

He's a fluffier than his pic, which wouldn't have been a problem. The problem was that he showed up unshaven (WTF, dude?) in a zip up hoodie sweatshirt and jeans. Seriously, I get it. It's a coffee date, I didn't dress up by any means, but would a nice t-shirt have been to much to ask? Or shaving? He had an hour and a half from the time we agreed to meet! Who is okay with letting that be their first impression on a first date?!

WHAT THE FUCK.

He was nice and funny, but I picked up a little of that clinger-ish vibe. He kept touching me, so it was very obvious that he was into me. I didn't feel any connection whatsoever. What really put me on the fence about the whole thing was when he reached down and stroked my leg (I wore a skirt), saying he was checking to see if I shaved my legs. Um, hells to the nos. Don't even be all critical over whether my legs are Sasquatch-y when you couldn't even shave your face or brush your teeth.

He messaged me asking for my cell number again (I had sent it to him in case he needed to reschedule for some reason) so I gave it to him. I figured I'll give him another chance, go on another date and see what happens. So he starts texting me and is getting more and more creeperish with every text. "You've told me what your pet peeves are, now I want to know what makes your heart melt" is not really appropriate after one date. Just, no.

So I bit the bullet and told him I didn't think it was such a good idea for us to see each other again, because really, it isn't fair if I'm not into it. A free latte and a few hours of good conversation are one thing, but knowingly going out with a guy for dinner when I'm not feeling it isn't something I can do. I can be a bitch when the situation calls for it, but I'm not a mean spirited person. He was less than pleased, of course. I felt horrible, but I refuse to lead a guy on.

So I got my first first date out of the way, let's hope the drywall guy date tonight goes a little better! :)

I've got a few other guys I've been talking to that seem nice. I'm going to message them for a while before meeting them though. Especially because one is from a town about an hour away and I would feel pretty shitty if he drove up here for a mediocre date. :)

Dating really is bullshit, but it's fun sometimes too.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

The evolution of the girl formerly closed off from social interaction

It started back in May with a flirtation from a hot guy.


It progressed to making out with a guy I had just met (and nothing more).

Now, it will all culminate in the event I've been waiting for... My first date.

Yes, I've officially been invited out on my first real date. Jilly and I were out at the local Irish bar again last night, and a guy behind us told the bartender he would like to buy us a drink. Well fuck yeah, of course! We had a delicious shot made into a drink called the Ugly Betty, which is a specialty of theirs. And it is orgasmically good.

We got our drinks, turned around, cheered, introduced ourselves and continued on. I was, of course, totally flattered because I've never had a random guy buy me a drink before. Smiling like a fucking idiot working her diaper.

Speaking of crotchitals, I wore the most gorgeous 5" stilettos EVAR (Yes, I'm six feet tall and love wearing sky high heels). For your drooling pleasure, may I present my newest love, in pink. I had to pee (I swear beer is a damn diuretic), and when I sat down to pee I almost fell off the damn toilet because I forgot to account for the extra 5" drop. Not a mistake I made again the rest of the night, but it was funny as hell to sit on the toilet and have my knees come up to my knockers.

So after we finished our drinks and were waiting on a friend of Jilly's to show up so we could hit the titty bar again, the guy who bought the drinks came up behind us and asked if we were still thirsty. We politely declined, explaining that we were getting ready to leave. He turns to me and said something along the lines of, 'I don't normally do this but here is my card. I'd like to maybe take you out for drinks sometime. You have really beautiful eyes.'

I am pretty sure I turned purple, I blushed so hard. For being a dirty perv, I sure do blush like a prissy prude. Very annoying.

I took his card and we thanked him and went on enjoying the rest of the evening. I had my ass grabbed by a hot stripper, it was great.

When I got home, I Googled him... Sort of odd, but in this day and age it would be stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity. Nothing odd showed up, just a few blurbs about the business he owns - which I already knew from the card. So I figured what the hell, everyone deserves a fair shake, right? (Not that kind of shake, dirty kittens.)

I called him.

I have no idea if I broke some unspoken rule about how long you should wait to call a guy who gave you his card because zomg he'll think you're a desperate tramp if you call him right away but I'm pretty sure that might only apply to girls who call the guy like a half an hour after they last see them because that would be really stupid and if I don't know what the social rules are does it really matter if I've broken them because I can just sort of make up my own and I mean at least I waited until the following day right?

*deep breath down into the diaphragm*

Whatever. I did it. He sounded kind of surprised that I called, and it was a little awkward being all, 'So, um, you said you wanted to take me out for drinks... Are you still up for that?' I actually said something along the lines of, 'I wasn't sure if you were drunk enough not to remember me...'

Motherfucking linguistic master, that's me.

So anyways, he had me pick where I wanted to go and I picked a local pub that makes their own microbrews and some awesome pizza. Pizza and beer is a pretty low-key, casual first date. And what guy doesn't love a girl who likes pizza and beer? If nothing else, it will hopefully be a nice way to spend an evening. And it'll boost my ego into nosebleed territory.

My first date. Wow. Times, they are a'changin.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Fresh beginnings...

After a few hours of meaningless web surfing, I finally found a new blog template. I figure the refreshed availability of blog posting opportunity deserves a new design. And this one isn't nearly as dark as the old one and fits me much better. Pink diamonds? Hello? Yes! Plus, it looks sassy, and this is Sassy Pie after all.


This past week I had my first strip club experience. I know, right? I can't believe it took me until the age of 26 to hit a strip club either. I wanted to go much, much sooner, but Erf never wanted to go. I met a my friend Jilly out at a local Irish bar Tuesday night, and let me just say that apparently Irish bars are the places where hot guys hang out. Oh dear sweet baby Jesus, it was a veritable meat buffet in there. We decided to go to a local strip club that Jilly used to waitress at, and I was, of course, super excited. We walked in, and it was fairly tame. It was a Tuesday night, of course, so it was pretty much a bunch of regulars. We met a few of her guy friends there and hung out with them. They paid for our drinks, which, hello? Awesome!

Then I got to get a little dance from a cute stripper named Myth. She had a nice ass, a tight body and small tits. First she wrapped her leg around the back of my neck (hot!) and slapped my face with her thigh and ass. Then she got down on her knees and proceeded to praise my boobs... It was awesome. "Oh my god, these are Baywatch boobs! You could just see them running down a beach!" And then she snuggled into them, and told me they were so soft and comfortable she could just fall asleep on them. Yeah, that pretty much describes my rack. Next time I'll have to make sure I wear a really low cut shirt so I can have the stripper's face in my tits.

And holy mother lover, am I ever enjoying being single. It all began with the most interesting pickup line ever, and it's been nothing but fun (and sometimes awkward) times since then. From finding a talented friend with benefits to making out with a guy I've never met before, to getting free drinks at the bar, I've been loving every minute of it. I've always been a social creature, and during my years with Erf I became progressively introverted and someone who wasn't herself. It was like that chick from Titanic. I felt as if I was in the middle of a crowded room screaming, and no one even looked up. That feeling of being trapped inside someone who isn't you, it's terrifying. I'm returning more and more to myself, and a lot of that involves finding out new things I never knew. It's wonderful and scary, but necessary. I can't be someone I'm not.

Not anymore. :)

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Why Helen Keller would not make a good girlfriend...

So everyone has heard the bemused meandering thoughts of the general male population about how someone like Helen Keller would make the perfect girlfriend. She's blind, deaf, and mute! Cut her off at the knees and every guy in the free world will be chasing after her.


Except, you know, she'd probably run into a wall attempting to run away from the hordes of admiring cock-wielders.

However, due to a conversation I had with a friend, I began thinking about how terrible of a girlfriend she really would make. No really, kittens; hear me out.

I assume that unless you're over the age of 50 or have been living in a goddamn cave, you've heard the phrase, 'bitch, get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich'. Now do me a favor, and imagine someone who is blind, mute and deaf making a sandwich.

How would she know the difference between turkey, ham, roast beef or salami? Between swiss and havarti? What the hell would happen if she cut herself? I mean, it's not like she can scream for help. She'd sit in the kitchen slowly bleeding to death, running into the wall in panic with an amputated thumb while you sit on the couch hungry.

And can you imagine how much of a pain it would be to have to either stomp your feet or throw something at her to get her attention? It's far too much of a pain in the ass to deal with. I mean, really, who has time to learn that sign language bullshit? Maybe you could create an abbreviated sign language. A slap on the ass means, 'on your knees, bitch.' A slap on the hand means, 'I'm hungry, go make me some food.' A slap on the face means, 'you're drooling, knock that shit off.' You get the gist of it...

And if you enjoy dirty talk in bed, fuggedaboutit.

No more, 'Oh yes, harder! Deeper! Fuck me with that huge cock, you porn star!' or 'Dear sweet jesus, no, not again!' or even, 'Rrruff, rruff... *whimper, whine*"

All you will be getting, good sir, is a bunch of muffled moaning that sounds like a zombie with a mouth full of pantyhose.

Enjoy that, along with your thumb-less, drooling sexual partner. Don't say I didn't tell you so.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The most interesting pickup line ever.

I was in top form this Monday night.


It probably didn't help (or maybe it did) that I was in a semi-pissy mood from yet ANOTHER GODDAMN MACHINE breaking down... Or at least, that I thought it had.

I was describing to my father (the same man who exclaimed, 'look at that gorgeous crushed velvet dress!' and, 'oh my god, that's a real Tiffany lamp!' watching Auntie Mame) the house my coworker rents a room in. The man who owns it has a house full of gorgeous antiques, and he can talk about them and their history like he's an appraiser. I was creaming my panties listening to the history of all these beautiful pieces. My dad can obviously appreciate my appreciation.

This somehow leads to this:

Me: "Dad, you are so gay."

Dad: "I'm not gay, I'm just happy."

Me: "Yeah, happy to have a dick in your mouth."

Mom: "She's in peak form tonight!"

Yes, I really do talk to my parents like this. And they're all for it. And things like this are just a few of the many reasons I love them and am so thankful I can be myself around them. So many of my friends have to censor themselves and put on a face for their parents. And it's not that I don't respect them, because I really do. I only make remarks like this in good humor.

Later on that night we were discussing my dating post, and my dad asks, "What's the worst pickup line ever?"

To which I respond, "Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

He cracks up laughing, because that's exactly what he was going to say.

The reason this is pertinent information, kittens, is because I actually used this line last night. It wasn't a real come-on, but I used it all the same. Felt like a douche the entire time.

My friend and I went out for apps and drinks at one of my favorite (and expensive) local bars last night. They have a fun drink menu, they play lots of old swing like Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, and the atmosphere is just fabulous. As we're drinking, her coworker texts her telling her he is at a nearby bar. She invites him over for a drink. He shows, but doesn't see us snuggled in the comfy armchairs in the corner, and heads to the bar with his friends. My friend is blocked from his sight by the piano, but I am not. I'm laughing watching him scan the bar for us. I asked her if I should go get him using my 'chloroform' pickup line. She dares me.

Kittens, I cannot back down. I've got a mad dope street cred rep to uphold, yo.

I should be hanged, shot, drawn, quartered and dipped in boiling oil for typing that.

Anywho, I grab my napkin and walk over. I linger behind him as if perusing the bar contents, because I'm all blushy and nervous. My heart was pounding. I'm such a goddamn pussy.

I walk around to his side, and say, "Hi."

Motherfucking linguistic master, that's me.

He replies, "Hi there." But it was like one of those drawn out, "Hiiii there..." replies. Keep in mind that I am wearing a gorgeous dress that totally highlights copious amounts of cleavage. And I had on a pearl necklace. Not that kind, you dirty whores. One that dipped into said cleavage. And gorgeous 3 1/2" stilettos. Even my thick skull was registering that he found me attractive.

I blurt out something retarded like, "I am coming over on behalf of a friend who dared me to use this pickup line on you."

He tells me to go for it.

I hold up my napkin and say, "Does this smell like chloroform to you?"

He laughs. Women with him look annoyed. It's obvious neither is his girlfriend, and if they can't take a joke, fuck 'em.

Then I tell him friend and I are sitting over there *gestures to where friend is peeking over the top of the piano laughing* and he's welcome to join us.

He stops me and says, "Is that all you've got for me? No more pickup lines?"

I reply, "I'm not very good at the pickup lines, I'm better at witty comebacks."

He begins firing off hilarious lines like, "Is that a keg in your pants? Because I'd like to tap that ass." and, "Do you wash your pants with Windex, because I can see myself in them."

Thinking back, I should have fired back with something witty like, "Nice pants, they'd look great on my bedroom floor." But I was trying to gather my synapses to keep from turning into a giggly pile of girly jello simply from being flirted with, so I was understandably preoccupied.

He did end up joining us for a while, and he had the whole geek thing going on that I fall for. I have no idea what it is about men in (well-chosen, appropriate) glasses that makes my panties wet, but it just is.

Thus I had my first recognizable flirtation with a guy I've never met before. It was sort of like heroin... Now I can't shake the craving for it. :)