After some moaning about girls with super-low self-esteem, I’ll move back to where I started – being single girl, who you wouldn’t want to date, because she’ll tell the world, how much of a freak you are.
Mister #5 was more of an immature whus, than a proper date.
I mean, lets clarify the situation once and for all! Hopping for some flowers, Moet and chocolate hearts during the first date – you can call it high expectations. But thinking that a 26-year-old will actually ask you out, rather than just keep texting you – it’s just a common sense.
I met him one night at work.
Loud and proud: I’ve been working as a bartender!
A group of seven lads came into the restaurant and made me blush sooner than I got a chance to ask whether they have a table booked. I’ll be honest – men’s attention makes me feel gooood (exhibit A). But it was just
a little too much way over the top. Seven men (as far as I recall, at least four of them would’ve fell into wowza category) continuously asking your name, age, marital status… Boys gone wild, fair enough, but just give me a second to cope with the pressure.
Breath in… Breath out… Breath in… Breath out… Ohh, for f*** sake, just breathe woman!
Apparently it was one of them’s birthday. One of the waiters noticed, my whole “I can’t serve drinks and deal with my blush at the same time” situation and decided to sat guys to the table straight away, instead of letting them have some drinks at the bar, as it was usual.
Sadly for me, I still had to serve them drinks, but now, I at least had some time to calm down and stop shaking out of embarrassment. Very surprisingly, no spillages took place and I managed to elegantly (pfff, yeah right..) serve seven lagers. Of course some serious commentary about my skills were made. Further discussion about what else, but serving drinks, I am suitable for arose.
Move faster, instead of being so careful, and get back into your comfort zone – safe, men-less bar.
The magic happened, when they were about to leave. The birthday boy, from now on refered to as #5, gave me a promiscuous smile, a wink, polite “thank you” and.. a little piece of a serviette.
You can only imagine my glorious joy, when I realised that the best-looking one out of the seven, decided that his number needs to settle down in my cell.
Being smart and experienced women, I decided that I will text him (he’s too attractive not to), but I’ll do it tomorrow, cause tonight he’s drunk and under a gang’s effect.*
We started texting and talking on the phone occasionally. He seemed nice: a really good-looking man, with decent job, smart, funny, single. I enjoyed talking to him throughout first, second, third week.. by fourth week I got really bored.
I can’t remember how much time passed, till I actually told him, that I think we’re ready to make a movie in our relationship – he either asks me out or bugs off.
Not sure which one of us lost more in this “Texting/Phoning/Potential Dating” LOTO, but I’m sure none of us won.
That’s the sad story of #5.
A really boring one as well… not even one date! But you already read it and wasted approximately five minutes of your precious life(muahaha , no claims for refunds are accepted). So you might as well like it! Just press the button below, that says “Like”. (#nospam @myblog’sjustawesome)
P. S. Now that I think of it, it’s not a complete waste of time, cause there’s still lesson learned: give a guy two weeks; if he won’t ask you out, he’s a sad textophile! Adios, phone freak, and hola, mister #6 (#7, #8, #9….??!?!) !
* Gang’s effect is an extremely sad disease that is common to a larger part of men’s population. It tackles pretty much all men when they get together. Indications: even if the guy is really nice, he’ll start acting as a moron, when he’s surrounded by his mates.