I left off with the Man Buffet that is Copper River on a Thursday night. W, YB and his buddies were with me. I would like to say that something cool happened, but...
1. We all know how non-existant and pathetic my dating life is. Let's not kid ourselves.
2. YB's buddies were successful in totally cockblocking me for the evening.
It would have been great if YB's buddies were hot or super fun, but they were only average in these areas. Oh well. At least they weren't stupid, annoying or drunk. W and YB invited me to tailgate the next day, and they told me to bring whomever. After about an hour, I was bored with talking to YB's buddies, so I went home. The End.
Yeah, I know. Totally lame. But it gets better.
On Friday evening, I was planning on going over to Cute Neighbor's house to invite him to go tailgating with me the next day. He wasn't home. So, I left a short note, telling him I'd be leaving around 3pm for the game.
Saturday, I ran a couple of errands and baked cheesecake for B's birthday. By 2pm, I had called all my friends to tell them that I was not going tailgating. (I hate driving down there and parking all by myself. It's no fun to do that alone. Since I'd given up on CN, and everyone else was already on their way down there, I gave up.) I continued puttering around my house. All my other friends already had plans, so I was resigned to spending the night on my couch, watching a movie with my dogs. No big deal.
At 3pm sharp, Cute Neighbor knocks on my door. He wants to know if I'm still going tailgating. EEK! Excitement and dread fill me: I am sweaty and disheveled from cleaning my house. My hair is dirty. Great.
"Uh, sure. Can I get ready really quickly, though?" I asked.
"Sure. Just come over when you're ready," he replied.
I took the quickest shower in history, threw my hair into a ponytail and refreshed my makeup. About 20 minutes later, I was ready to go, wearing my USC Gamecocks tshirt. We got in my car, and I gave him music selection duties. "You have really good taste in music," he said as he browsed through my CDs.
"Take THAT, Stuckey!" I thought. (Stuckey loves to tell me I have bad taste in music.)
Luckily, I remembered that I had to hit the ATM and get some cash for parking. Unluckily, I did not know that ATM cards have expiration dates on them, and mine expired two months ago. Shit. So that's why my bank sent me that new card....which I stuck somewhere.....note to self: find new ATM card.
I got back in the car and explained my little problem to him. He said he would pay for parking. I was kind of embarrassed, but he seemed totally ok with it. Whew. We made our way through the stadium traffic. Slowly.
For the next hour and a half, he and I talked and talked and talked. I feel very at ease around him, which is good. I didn't feel shy or very nervous at all. Whew. It was a nice relief. We talked about music, our families, our jobs and how we deal with stress. We even talked about our hobbies and our neighbors. Never at any point did we discuss my telephone number or going on a date. Great.
We finally found a parking spot, approximately 400 miles from where we needed to be. As we talked and walked, I was almost hit by a truck. How close? Let's just say they were honking at me. Oops. Between the ATM and playing in traffic, I was coming off as a total dingbat. I guess you can take away my blonde hair, but you cannot take the blonde out of me!
After 2 hours of travel time, we finally arrived at our destination. W, YB and his buddies from the night before greeted us. We had a pretty good time, talking and laughing and munching on goodies as we watched the game. The weather was great, too. The Gamecocks won, which was a nice end to the day.
Unfortunately, the only fireworks going on were over at the stadium endzones.
He's a super sweet guy, and he's really easy to hang out with, because he's so laid back. And we have quite a few things in common. But that is not enough for me. I have gotten the impression that he's a homebody, which doesn't mesh well with my social butterfly lifestyle. He had 8 hours to ask me out or get my number, and he didn't. There was a noticeable lack of flirtatious banter, which I really need to stay interested in a guy. Throw in the fact that he might be taking a job 2 hours away, and he's almost in that dreaded place that men hate: The Friend Zone.