The Virginity Monologues

To say that I had a great weekend would be grossly understating how much fun I really did have.

Friday night:

I met Ana at her office and the 2 of us headed up to Yankee Stadium to meet her boyfriend and another friend, DreamyE. It was Ana's first baseball game and it was such a joy to see it through her eyes- to answer all of her questions and to laugh at her confusion. We ate hot dogs. We drank beer. We hollered at the vendors. It was a perfect night. Marred only by the fact that we left early in what would be a 14 inning game.

After the game, Banana went home and DreamyE went with me to meet up with my friend, Michelle for a night of boozing. We started in the West Village, which was a bit of a bust, then made our way to Fat Baby in the Lower East Side, where the night got interesting. As we were dancing downstairs, I made some significant eye contact with a cute boy. By the end of the night, we had done some pretty hot making out, and a digit exchange. (We have since made plans to go out on Wednesday.)

Saturday:

There is a guy who lives in my building and I see often on the street, who we shall call The Pharmacist (some of you may get that, some of you may not. If you're terribly confused, email me and I'll explain it). We have a mild flirtation going on, as he pretty blatantly hits on me almost every time he sees me. He's OUTRAGEOUSLY hot and has maybe the most amazing body I've ever seen, but I keep my distance, despite his persistence, as I disagree with some of his life choices.

So, Saturday afternoon, I had just stepped out of my elevator and was checking my mail. With my head bent over the mailboxes, I wasn't paying much attention to anything else around me. I felt a hand, wrap around my waist, and a set of lips press against the back of my neck (my hair was in braids, so the back of my neck was particularly exposed) and a shot of electricity spread all the way down to my toes, as I whipped around to see The Pharmacist disappearing into the elevator.

Holy smokes that was hot.

I made my way down to the West Village to meet Spatch in a daze. Unable to focus on anything in my head but those lips. And my neck. Rowr.

Spatch and I pamper ourselves with a manicure/pedicure before we are off to meet my friend, Dan and his friend, Jack, who expressed an interest in Spatch after we ran into them last week. Since it was a bit of a blind-date set up, Spatch and I chose tapas for dinner as its a great group meal. Email Boy was also set to join us as he is very good friends with Dan.

Dinner was perfection. We laughed. Spatch regaled us with Burning Man and other fascinating stories. Spatch and I ordered round after round of food and the boys ate it with gusto. The conversation flowed seamlessly and seemed to touch on almost every topic imaginable. Dan (who I've had a MAJOR crush on for about 2 years now) and I fed each other and were definitely the comic relief/dirtiest people at the table. Just thinking about it brings the biggest, most ridiculous smile to my face.

After dinner, Email Boy had to leave us to go meet some other friends, and the remaining 4 of us made our way to Max Brenner's Chocolate by the Bald Man for dessert, where the comraderie continued. After dessert, we all parted ways. Filled and happy.

Saturday night/Sunday morning:

I hit a stumbling block. I woke up at 4 am. And out of nowhere, I ached for Oscar. I missed him something awful. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to see him. I just wanted to hear his voice.

I blocked my number and I called. Hoping to just hear his voicemail.

Imagine my surprise when he picked up. Imagine his surprise that I then hung up. I don't know if he knew it was me, but he didn't call back. And hasn't called since last Thursday.

Probably for the best.

Sunday:

I met Spatch in Madison Square Park. Interestingly enough, as I called her and was on my way there, she was also on her way there. How convenient. I stood in line at the Shake Shack while I waited for her. When she arrived, the first thing I did was lay my head on her shoulder and cry. Cry for the ridiculous boy, who doesn't deserve my tears, who I ached for. We filled ourselves up with burgers, fries and shakes, before heading down to Battery Park so Spatch could catch some sun, and I could be soothed by the water before meeting some friends for drinks.

The rest of the night passed quickly, food, drinks and a film festival. I went home exhausted. So, so content.

And this time, the smile reached all the way down to my toes.

Today's title from: Drivin' Me Wild by Common (a.k.a. My Future Husband)

Labels: Ana, Oscar, Spatch, The Pharmacist