This past weekend was Halloweekend, but I need to backtrack before I go there and that deserves a separate post. Reverse to the Saturday before Halloweekend. I attended a nerds and ninjas peace corp party with my girlfriends. Being the nerd I am, it was not at all difficult for me to dress up for this. I initially tried ninja, but figured out I just don't have the concealment skills I needed to complete the look.
It took the four of us about an hour to walk all the way to the party in the bitter cold, and once we got there we found that most of the guests were over 30. AT LEAST. The average age was most likely somewhere around 35.
Long story short, I never want to attend a theme party with 50+ year old men. They go all out. And I mean ALL OUT. Pocket protectors, swords, tight black spandex all over. Never again. Yeah, I admit I am normally into middle-aged men, but every one of these guys was creepy/unnattractive and didn't even have the ability to carry on an interesting conversation.
When I finally got out of there, it was about midnight. I decided to cab it all the way to the bar where some of my friends were even though it was going to cost me an arm and a leg. I should have just gone home while I was ahead.
When I arrived at Front Page, there was a line out the door waiting for entry. While waiting to get our ID's checked, this beautiful man with piercing blue eyes, dark hair and burberry lining in the collar of his polo under a blazer struck up a conversation with me. After some small talk, we both made it inside the bar and split up to find our friends.
As a side note, I highlight that he had Burberry lining his collar not because I liked it, but because I now realize he should have flashed douche across his forehead. I will never make this mistake again.
After mingling with my friends for a few minutes, I saw Burberry walk by and catch my eye. I followed and we talked for about 20 minutes. He filled me in on his life. He was 35 and with his buddies that wanted to go out. He wasn't that into it because they were really drunk and he doesn't drink (which honestly made him that much more appealing...I saw it as a challenge to conquer a man that had no goggles on). In the middle of our conversation, Latin music came on. I had just told him this was my favorite kind of music and he said, "Want to dance?"
I was officially in love.
We danced for a while and were both really getting into it. He was a pretty good dancer and we just seemed to mesh well together. I have been so let down recently by the selection of men out there that I was getting more and more excited by the second. He eventually leaned down to kiss me and we made out on the dance floor swaying our hips to the music for a good five minutes. He was a fantastic kisser.
When we both took a break and came up for air, he looked at me with his beautiful eyes and said, "Have you felt this?" While simulatneously lacing the fingers on his left hand with my right.
And then I felt it.
No, I didn't feel what everyone is thinking. Get your minds out of the gutter.
I felt a sliver of metal encircling one of his fingers. I shot my eyes up to his face as my jaw dropped to the floor in horror and disbelief. I had just officially made myself "the other girl."
Yes, he had been married for five years.
After yelling "What the fuck!" an excessive amount of times, he calmly says, "I have two kids. Wanna see pictures?"
Dumbfounded, I stood there not answering as he pulled out his phone and whipped out two pictures of the most adorable children I had ever seen. I wanted to melt right there on the dance floor.
He finally asked, "why is your mouth still open," to which I responded, "What the fuck!" Apparently eloquence is not my strong point in moments of emotional distress. He proceeded to tell me that he hadn't done anything wrong. When I pointed out that we had locked lips for a considerable amount of time just moments ago, he insisted that was perfectly fine.
"I would totally sleep with you too," he said.
Well thanks. Really. Thanks for that compliment. I have now learned that since I am often attracted to men significantly older than me, I need to constantly be on the lookout for these horrendous bands of metal. I will always look before I leap from now on, and never ever will I think a man with Burberry on his person is a man for me.
Notice to married men: please get your ring implanted with flashing lights so tipsy Sylvie doesn't turn into mistress Sylvie. KThanks.
