The Foxista: A Rundown

So we hung out last night.

Firstly, I picked him up from his house, which is only a few minutes from me which is nice, but because he doesn't have a car, which is not nice.

When I got him I asked him what he wanted to do, and he said, "Honestly I'm so stoked to be hanging out with you, I don't care what we do." (Awwww..... so nice.) I gave him the choice of either A. going to the fun brewery down the street or B. going to my house and drinking bloody marys, and he opted for the second, due to a lack of funds in his account. (Not so nice.)

We got to my house and I made us some drinks and we dove into getting to know each other. He's 26, from Upstate NY, has two older sisters, and is passionate about skateboarding and music. His goal is to submit some video footage of his skating to skate companies and get a sponsorship. To be perfectly honest with you guys, I have no problem with skateboarding, and I actually think skaters are sexy (a feeling that dates back to 7th grade and my complete and utter enfatuation with pretty much any boy at my middle school who wore baggy pants and airwalks and flipped ollies in the front parking lot during lunch), but unfortunately those kinds of goals/dreams aren't a turn on anymore when they're coming from a grown man, who, in his words, wants to settle down in the next few years. How?

I'm sorry if I sound like a total picky, wishy-washing snotty bitch, and maybe I am (I hope not), but other than the whole lacking ambition/a car/a well-paying career, he's really an amazing guy. Like I'm sure I've made clear already, he's super attractive, and he's extremely sweet, open, and affectionate. We spent the whole night talking, and he kept telling me how I was so gorgeous and he just couldn't believe I would choose him to do something like that for. After a few Bloody Marys I admitted that the primary reason I go to that Starbucks is because he works there, which he was completely surprised by, as he has spent every shift since the first night I came in hoping I'll be coming in for a coffee.

At some point in the night, we were in the kitchen talking while I was making another drink for him and was in the middle of a sentence, stopped talking, put his hands behind my head, and kissed me for what seemed like 10 minutes (but was realistically probably 10 seconds). As it turns out, he is a fantastic kisser, which he said about me as well.

From then on, we split our time between getting to know each other, and a passionate makeout sesh. Eventually we decided he was going to stay over (since I was about 4 drinks deep) and I made it clear that staying over meant sleeping, and not.... staying over (wink wink). I told him I move slowly with physical stuff, and I told him it would be no different than exactly what was going on already, except in a different room. He told me a few times that he understood, and we went upstairs.

I was very pleasantly surprised when he stripped down to boxers and I found that he has an absolutely perfect body. Think slim hips, strong V-lines and 0% body fat.... just completely toned everything. Right. (Sorry for the stockphoto, just needed an example.)

So we get in bed, and get back to making out. Its more sweet and passionate than hot and heavy (to be graphic, there isn't any intense grinding or groping or moving or anything else that would lead a person to believe this was a segway to other activities), and goes on for about 15 minutes before, ALL OF A SUDDEN, there's a hand in my pants. Literally, like a flash of lightning.

And in a similar fashion I yanked it out and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. He apologized profusely and said it was because he was drunk. We kissed for another minute, until he pulled away, and (get this) asked me if I had a condom.

I asked him if he was kidding. No. I asked him what exactly he needed a condom for. He said, with the most sincere look on his face, that it was really important to him to be "safe."

"Were you not listening?? Did I not tell you before that nothing more was going to happen? That 'staying over' didn't entail anything?? Did I not just get mad a second ago when you put your hand down my pants?!"

Again, he apologized profusely, blamed it on all the drinks that I had made him (hesitantly.... that he had kept asking for) and then apologized some more and said I was "lucky" that it was him (a nice guy) instead of some drunk jerk that would try to take advantage of the situation (he has a point, but a weird time to bring up threatening situations with strangers). We kissed for a little bit longer and went to sleep.

So I awoke this morning to a very sexy, quietly snoring bedmate who had stolen all the covers. I managed to weasel some out of his grasp and rolled the opposite way to go back to sleep. The snoring stopped and he rolled over towards me, and said "awwww" while he wrapped his arms and legs around me and buried his face in my hair and told me how nice it was to wake up and see me next to him. And then he apologized profusely for last night and told me how embarrassed he was for being like that, and understood if I never wanted to see him again but that he really wasn't that kind of guy and it was really just the alcohol talking, and that he just feels so bad about it.

From then we rolled around and laughed and kissed and talked and snuggled and tickled each other (and were consistently turned on the whole time, though not in the aggressive way like the night before, but more in a cute funny way that we kept giggling about) 'til I realized suddenly that I had exactly an hour before I had to leave for work and get there exactly on time, and I hadn't even gotten out of bed yet, so I jumped up and got ready while he hung out with me, and drove him home on my way to work. He sent me a few really sweet texts during the day, telling me that he was thinking about me and how beautiful he thinks I am.... I could really get used to that.

I secretly hope that he can pull together some ambition and a car in the next few weeks so that he can be my boyfriend. But that might be somewhat of a miracle.

I'm not much into clowns.

Finally starting to get over this damn cold (10 days? Really?) I decided to go out with this guy Dave, that found me on OkCupid, who's been hounding me all week for a "coffee" date or something. So cliche, no? Oh well.. not every guy can be blessed with a creative spirit, and he wasn't taking no for an answer, so when I finally got my voice back last night, I agreed to hang out tomorrow, aka this evening.

Not much in the mood for coffee, I redirected the date to the area of dinner - he suggested my very favorite restaurant Memphis (what a lucky guess!) and we met there. I'd seen some pictures of him and thought he was sort of cute; he turned out to be more attractive than I expected (always a nice surprise) and pretty tall. Boring haircut and outfit aside, he has big blue eyes and a charmingly vulnerable smile which gets me every time. We sat down at our table and started talking, and the more we talked the more I realized I hadn't the slightest clue what he did or who he was. The embarrassing part was that he had told me but I guess I've been talking to too many different guys because I have no recollection of the email exchange. Oops!

Anyway, apparently he's some big deal engineer for a local company that makes some really crazy new barcode system, and on the side he buys electronics, refurbishes, sells them, and makes a grip off the difference. Cute, smart, and entrepreneurial? Bring it on.

Though he was a math major in college (which he went to in Canada, where he's from) he actually had pretty impressive social skills, and I only ate a bit of my dinner (cornmeal crusted catfish and dirty rice.... pinch me) because our conversation was flowin' as smoothly as my martinis were going down. So far so good!

Once the bill was paid (which he took care of immediately... sexy) he told me he wasn't ready for the date to be over, I giggled, and he suggested one of my favorite late night spots down the street for a few drinks.

When we got there it was packed but we found a cozy table in the corner, and sat huddled together with our drinks, chatting. The more buzzed I got the more I realized that this date was actually going REALLY well.... like, I really like him! This never happens! We had a lot in common, he was totally interested in everything I had to say, and likewise, he's funny, he makes great eye contact (Girls and Boys: This is incredibly important if you want to come off as confident and comfortable, which you DO) and is super positive about life.

He asked me what my longest relationship was, I told him almost two years. He asked how long ago was that? I said about a year and a half ago. I asked when his last relationship was... his smile dropped and eyes darted away. Uh oh. He told me he didn't like to talk about it much. I pried.

"...10 years ago," he told me. I was buzzed but I did the math.... let's see... he's 28... "You haven't had a girlfriend since you were EIGHTEEN? WHY??"

He went on to tell me that he just couldn't figure it out. He'd meet girls, invite them out, sometimes they would say yes, they'd have at least an ok time, and they'd never hang out again. My crazy-dude radar started to beep annoyingly.

I pressed snooze.

I thought it sounded like a good idea to head back to his townhouse (which he owns, cool) to watch Flight of the Conchords, because nothing beats my two favorite New Zealanders. So funny. So sexy.

He changed into his pajamas and we got onto his bed. Ok, wait. Before I start, you have to visualize the layout of the situation.

Basically, we're laying on his bed, watching tv. During a commercial, he looks over and me with this really cute vulnerable look in his eye, and goes in for a kiss. He's a great kisser! I'm excited! We're kissing, we're happy, we're totally vibing on each other.

The show comes back on and I pull away and get back to watching... always playing the interested and then slightly-disinterested and then interested again card, works every time. (If you haven't read the Art of Seduction yet, DO.)

Except, ALAS! Our three minute makeout sesh has proved QUITE the turn-on for Dave, who is now sporting a more impressive tent than the Ringling Bros "Best Show on Earth," or whatever.... I'm not much into circuses anyway.

(More epic than this)

As you can see from my diagram, said tent-poppage is in my DIRECT line of vision, and seeing as he clearly hadn't taken any notice of the fact that I had noticed, I felt even more awkward. So here I am, laying there, and trying to look ANYWHERE but the TV. I check my phone. I send a text message. I ask him about the photography on the wall.

(Sidenote: Don't get me wrong, people. Being a girl in her early 20's with the libido of a bunny, I have no problem with boner. In fact, I like boner. I'm flattered by boner. Boner means fun things are to come. It means progress. It means we're in business. All fun aside, though, I'm still an old-fashioned girl and this was just not the appropriate time for boner. It was clear to both of us.)

(Sidenote #2: The good news is he's clearly packing some serious heat... there wasn't much left to the imagination.)

After the longest 45 seconds of my life, I heard him gasp and roll over uncomfortably, rigid with embarrassment. Maybe the track pants were a poor choice, my friend. "Do you want something to drink??" He jumps up and crosses awkwardly diagonally in front of the bed towards the fridge as to not display his obscene profile. Upon arriving at said fridge, he opens it and stands in it. "Is it hot in here?! It feels hot. Are you hot??"

I accepted a Vitamin Water and we layed there watching Flight of the Conchords and probably both wishing we could sink into the bed and disappear. Eventually after it wore off (which took literally like... 10 minutes. You would think the embarrassment/shame that was written all over his face would help calm things down? Guess not) I yawned and said I better go. He walked me out and gave me a less warm/comfortable hug than he welcomed me with.


I can't imagine what a second date would be like, but I can definitely say that he better not wear pajama pants next time. I wonder if this happens with all the other girls?

... Such is life.