Dating 6 Guys in 6 Days: Part 3

Date #5

Was with a guy named Jacob. Or what I call “The Many Faces of Jacob”. In every single picture he literally looks like a different person. Similar, but totally different. The reason I decided to go out with him anyways, was because there was a picture of him, shirtless under a waterfall in what can only be described as a “I’m just casually washing my hair” pose. I wish I could make that picture up, but it actually existed, was in his profile, and sadly – totally worked on me. He is a smoke show.

This isn’t the image obviously, but it was pretty much this.waterfall

So when we met for the date, I literally didn’t know which face I would be encountering. Thankfully, he got there first and texted me the table he was sitting at.

I was nervous for this one. This one definitely looks good without his shirt on. When I got there, he was tall and he smelled nice. Making me even more nervous. My palms and back were sweaty. Hot, right?

Jacob was muscly.  But not in the athletic body type version of muscly that I usually go for, but like the “gym rat, I actually don’t have an athletic bone in my body” type of muscly. In terms of which Jacob he turned out to be, he was disappointingly not the hottest Jacob, but he wasn’t the ugliest either. I was happy.

We were at a fancier restaurant than what I was used to with my other dates. He had picked this one. As soon as I got there, he ordered a bottle of red wine for us. No one has really done that for me, this guy means business. Hopefully, he was also planning on picking up the bill too, because I just ordered the duck confit.

We have a great dinner, finish our bottle of wine and end up ordering an additional half litre. We were there for about 4 hours, but at this point, I was definitely accidentally drunk. My stories were getting louder, and much more animated, but he ate it up and egged me on even further. Before we knew it, the restaurant was empty, and the server asked us if she could close up with us because she was leaving.

He walked me to my car and said goodnight. As he turned away, drunk Jo took over and I grabbed his lapel and gave him a fat kiss. He was a good kisser. Like a really good kisser. It did things to me. I hope I see him again.

Date #6

Now this one is interesting, and I’ve saved it for the Friday night because I had a feeling it would be a late one, or I would get drunk (not that the during the week dates have stopped me from getting drunk).

Every now and then on Tinder you come across someone you know, and it’s usually someone from high school you don’t really want to see or talk to. In those instances I am WAAAAY too curious to see if they have swiped right for me not to do so also. Remember, I peaked late, way later than high school, so I’m curious and maybe feeling a little bit of “how do you like me now??” when in these situations.

So while late-night swiping one night, I came across a guy I used to party with in high school, Charlie. We were never really close, he was just part of this one group that I would sometimes get drunk with. We were both country kids though, and our families are from the same community, so our families know each other very well (our 80+ grandmothers are actually besties).

So when I came across his pictures and profile, I couldn’t help but laugh and swipe right. It was a match. I wrote him saying “Charlie! What the fuck! What the heck is going on??” It was like running into an old friend at the club.

We chatted for a few days, catching up on life after high school and people that we collectively knew. He ended up asking me to meet up for a drink and I agreed.

So the night we agreed to meet was suddenly upon me and I realized I had no idea what we were technically doing. Were we meeting up as friends to catch up and get drunk together? Was this an actual date? I’m a girl. I need to know these things in order to plan out my outfit. Do I show up to his house with a case of beer, wearing  a hoodie and say “What’s up fucker?!” when he opens the door, or do I wear heels and curl my hair and pretend I’m a lady? How do we greet each other? Do we high-five, or hug? Friend or date?

I was stumphoto (8)ped. So I opted for a combination of both. I showed up with a case of beer, wore ankle boots with skinny jeans and curled my hair.

I rang the door bell and when he came to the door I handed him the case of beer and said “What’s going on Charlie??”. He didn’t say anything at first but just looked quizzing from the case of beer and back at me and finally said “You brought a case of beer? Are you serious?”…….I think this might be a date. I may have fucked up.

He invited me in as he put the case of beer away. Then offered me a drink, I asked for a beer and turned down the offer for a glass and opted to drink straight from the bottle. At this point, I was still uncertain if this was a date or not and if I should be acting like a lady.

We had a drink and then decide to go grab sushi from down the street.

I fucking LOOOOVE sushi. I couldn’t help it, but I literally ate my weight in all-you-can-eat sushi. I ate more than Charlie did, despite being at least 50 pounds lighter than him. Just stuffed my face-hole. After we finished eating, I went to the bathroom and couldn’t bring myself to do my pants back up over my gut. I had to jump to even get them up over my ass, so there was no way I was getting the button done up.

Fucking skinny jeans. What was I thinking. I hope he doesn’t notice that they are undone.

At that point, I was ready to be rolled out of there like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka. I did NOT feel hot, I actually didn’t feel anything except sick. I couldn’t even finish my second beer. We sat there for another 15 minutes after we got the bill waiting for me to finish.

When I got back to the table I realized he had paid the bill. He paid the bill. Oh shit. This is a date. This is a fucking date. I just ate an unattractive amount of sushi, my gut is out and my pants are undone under the table. I’m masking my sushi burps behind my hand, and squirming uncomfortably over my large sushi belly and I just realized this is a fucking date. Ugh.

After we leave, I waddled back to his car and we went back to his place. We cracked open the case of beer I brought, put on music, and shot the shit.

A few beers later I was accidentally drunk again and he caught me dancing and singing in his living room. When he asked me what I was doing I replied “I’m singing to Nelson!” (a quote from one of my favorite movies, A League of Their Own) he countered with the next line from the movie, and then we only talked in A League of Their Own quotes for the next 15 minutes.

After that I insisted we put on that movie. We did and kept drinking. After that, something happened, I must have gotten a little black out, but at some point I suddenly woke up and realized that I was passed out on one part of his sectional couch, he was passed out on the other, and we were sharing a pillow in the middle.

I laid there for a minute, kind of cold with my lack and blanket and kind of weirded out by us sharing a pillow, despite our bodies being on separate couches. I realized there was an empty bed upstairs so pulled myself from the couch, left him where he was, climbed the stairs and crawled into his bed.

I woke up a few hours later with a saw-dust mouth and a killer headache. I could hear Charlie still snoring on the couch downstairs. I felt super awkward and felt the urge to leave immediately. Water first. I made my way to the kitchen, chugged back a glass of water and poured one for Charlie. I went over, poked him awake, told him I was leaving, and then immediately knocked over the full glass of water I just brought him. Ugh. I half-assed cleaned it up before he told me to just leave it. So I did and promptly left, not even giving him the chance to get up off the couch.

I slept like the dead for 6 hours when I got home. The Walking Dead. I was a fucking zombie.

I’m still not even sure if that counted as a date? I hope I never see him again.

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