Friends...or More?

I moved to the DC area three years ago not really knowing anyone. Sure, there was the odd acquaintance who was a friend of a friend or my mother's cousin type of thing, but for the most part, I was on my own.

Until I met my friend Charlie*.

We ran into each other for the first time at Clarendon Ballroom while I was waiting in line at the bar. He was with a bunch of guys, and as I stood behind them, he introduced himself by offering to buy me a drink - if I'd give his friend a birthday kiss! I laughed, but his smile was so adorable and the pick-up line so original, I ended up talking to him for the rest of the night.

At first, we flirted with dating, but it just didn't seem right. Instead, we started hanging out occasionally - platonically. Over the next several months, I started to think of him as one of my best friends in DC. Everything was just so comfortable - we'd watch movies, make dinner and spend most weekends on the golf course. If I was over late, it was easier to just crash at his house than go home to mine. He was my Dawson - with some casual benefits thrown in on the side if neither of us was seeing anyone else (so maybe it wasn't entirely platonic)!

About a year ago, we started circling around the idea of dating again, but neither of us was willing to say we were interested in the other. And then, one day, Charlie suddenly had a girlfriend and dumped me as a friend.

"I thought it would be awkward for you," he said. For me? Why? We'd always been buddies more than anything else - it didn't bother me that he was dating someone other than me, but I was incredibly hurt that he didn't want to spend time together anymore.

We crossed paths a few months later at Sign of the Whale during Nightmare on M Street. He was dressed as a cow (I was Jem from Jem and the Holograms), single again, incredibly drunk and out of nowhere asked me why we were never a couple. "We would have been perfect together!" he said.

WHAT?! Where did that come from?

I was seeing someone else at the time, so nothing came of it then. And it took me several more months to get over all the anger I felt about the way he severed our friendship. But then, a few weeks ago we were hanging out late one night and suddenly I felt differently. Not only was I having fun, but I wanted to jump the guy! (Something of a 180 for me - I've always thought Charlie was really cute, but the spine-tingling feeling was always been missing before.)

Over the next three weeks, I tried to tell Charlie that I liked him. There were going to be no missed signals this time around! But something always came up and the timing just didn't seem right.

Then this weekend, as Lauren and I made mac and cheese after a night at Clarendon Grill, we collectively (and intoxicatedly) decided it was a GREAT idea for her to repeatedly call the guy she's seeing and for me to text Charlie my epiphany.

"On the off chance u haven't figured it out yet, i have a crush on u...just wanted to lay it on the table:)," I punched into my phone and hit send, before I could change my mind.

No response that night.

When the return text did come the next day, there was no reference to the baring of my soul (Ok, that's a little dramatic. I was actually somewhat indifferent at this point, but firmly believe in putting everything on the line so that I walk out of every situation knowing it's not my fault it didn't work).

So I texted again. A very, very long text. Which, of course, then encountered technically difficulties in getting through, so I had to split it into three separate messages and send all of those. His reaction? "I'm at work. I'll call you later."

That was Sunday. I'm thinking he's probably not interested, but the worst part is, who am I going to play golf with now? At least with Charlie, I could always be assured of winning and never had to worry about a bad shot because it was almost guaranteed his ball would be further in the woods than mine!

*Name changed in the event Charlie finds out about this blog - although, he should recognize his role in this tale!

Like a Guy

Kimberley came downstairs last night to see me in sweats with my feet on the coffee table, a half eaten box of pizza in front of me and the Steelers opening-season game on TV.

"Haha...you're like a guy!" she said.

Sort of. I certainly love sports (although I'm not the obnoxious know-it-all girl who rattles off every stat to impress guy friends) and am just as comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt as a dress and heels.

But I also like pedicures, prefer a nice hotel over camping (although one night in a tent next to a bonfire can be a lot of fun) and can spend a lot of time getting my makeup and hair just right (but spent a week backpacking through Europe this summer without a blowdrier or curling iron!).

If I were a guy, I'd think I was perfect - I'm in my element taking shots with his friends AND hunting through every store at the mall with the girls for a very specific outfit.

So where is he? Where is this guy that knows how amazing I am and can't wait to introduce me to everyone he knows?

Dating is so much harder than I ever thought it would be! Charlotte (Sex & the City) was right when she said even her hair hurts from searching for THE ONE.

Update: The First Kiss

He hasn't called.

Of course, I didn't actually want him to call. I'd rather kiss a fish than risk locking lips with this guy again, but still...he hasn't called.

Did he actually think that horrible tongue on tongue action was my fault? I'm the one that was frantically wiping my mouth afterward and had to brush my teeth...repeatedly.

Why hasn't he called? I was bubbly and fun during dinner. He's the one that assaulted MY mouth at the end of the night - not the other way around. Haven't I earned the small joy of watching his name come up on my phone and sending him straight to voicemail? I want to be the one to decide that we'll not be going out again!

He should have called.

A Midnight Visitor

My roommate Kimberley and I decided to take advantage of the long weekend and hit up Carpool on Sunday night. An old friend of hers was going to be there, and I was ready to have some fun after my friend Charlie* ditched me earlier in the evening - after which I ended up coming home from the grocery store with a bottle of wine instead of the milk I had intended to get. Bottoms up!

It was a low-key night at the bar, and we were just hanging out. I spent most of the night talking to Kimberley's buddy Dave*. Given that I'd finished the entire bottle of wine before heading to Carpool, I was ready for bed about midnight. I said my goodbyes, gave Dave my number and got into a cab. I was sound asleep 20 minutes later.

At 4am, though, I woke up to the sound of voices. Apparently, Kimberley had brought Dave home with her, because they weren't done catching up by the time the bar closed - which I learned as I walked out of my bedroom in a t-shirt and boy shorts with mascara caked around my eyes!

"What are YOU doing here?" I said. Not quite the reaction Dave had expected, I think. In fact, it seemed more like he was hoping I'd welcome him with open arms. Not likely!

Kimberley had just finished making Velveeta shells and cheese (a fav in our house) and I was happy to help her eat it. But by then she was ready for bed and left me alone to entertain Dave while he waited for his cab - the last thing I wanted to do. Poor guy, he couldn't seem to understand why I wasn't ecstatic to see him.

Generally speaking, I like to leave the bar scene at the bar. If a guy wants to see me again, he can ask me out on a proper date. While Dave was nice, I wasn't exactly waiting by the phone for him to call, and was NOT excited to see him in my house only a few hours later. Not to mention he'd just woken me up from a sound sleep, and made some comment about four-eyes (are we back in third grade?) in regard to the glasses I was rockin'. As I downed my late-night snack, I kept one eye out the window for the cab's headlights, and finally, finally it arrived.

I stopped just short of shoving Dave out the door as he looked at me with confusion on his face. "So, uh, you gave me your number earlier..." he said. "Yes," I replied. "Feel free to use it - but get out of my house!"

• *Names changed to protect identities.

Update: The Socially Awkward

Lauren's date texted to see if she'd like to go out again. Because she didn't want to beat around the bush, she wrote back and said "No thanks, we're not a good match."

He texted again and asked what he did wrong. It seems he's been out on a lot of dates lately, and things aren't going well, so any insight she can offer into why he's being rejected would be very helpful - his words!

Should she point out his wrong turn to him , or just let it go?

The Socially Awkward

Have you ever been on a date and within the first 30 seconds, literally, realized it was a bad idea?

That's how my roommate would describe her experience last week. Like any veteran dater, Lauren* was unwilling to give up a Friday night for a first date (especially since she couldn't remember exactly where or when she'd met this guy), so she agreed to early drinks at Whitlow's before getting on with the rest of her evening.

Lauren's not what you'd call difficult to talk to - the exact opposite in fact. She's super bubbly and friendly, and is one of those people that just invites conversation. Granted, with her long blonde hair, preppy style and swimmer's body (D1 college athlete!), I could see where she might be intimidating to some guys. But she's an elementary school teacher - she's able to communicate with even the most emotionally stunted.

Apparently, the moment they sat down, though, Lauren's date began to pepper her with a series of questions rather than having a conversation - we can only assume he was doing his best to avoid the dreaded awkward silence. After covering everything from favorite movie, food and bar in rapid succession, he moved onto the less obvious.

"Do you know what the five German car brands are?" he asked.

Lauren was familiar with BMW, having spent some time near the plant in South Carolina while growing up, but didn't really care beyond that. So she changed the subject.

Big mistake. Investigative reporter guy was not to be deterrred. After a few minutes spent on another topic, he said, "Well, just in case you were wondering, the five brands are..." (I don't know all the manufacturers, and since Lauren was no longer really listening at that point, she was unable to relay them to me while telling this story).

He continued his line of questioning by asking Lauren if she knew of any other ice breakers, and she asked what his favorite color was. "Uh, I don't really have one," he said.

Her response: "You're asking me about German cars, and you can't even tell me what your favorite color is?"

She said afterward it was like being at an interview for a job she didn't want.

I think we can say this guy is safely in the barnacle category on the "Levels of Crustacean Love."

• *Names have been changed to protect the subject's identity, and more importantly, the ego of the bad date, should he or his friends read this.

The First Kiss

How can anyone, guy or girl, reach the age of 31 and not know how to kiss? I'm truly stumped by this question. I understand that not everyone is necessarily "popular," but we all find our place in a social circle and it would seem logical that from the age of 14 or so you'd get SOME type of practice - even if it's always while drunk.

In any case, I had a date last night at Sequoia with a guy I'd met two weeks before at Sign of the Whale. I wouldn't say I was dying to see this guy again, but he'd been pretty persistent in asking me out and seemed excited about taking me to dinner. Why turn down a good meal?

We met at the front door and while the food was good, it was obvious in about 20 minutes that I would not be going out with him again. He's a very nice guy, we just weren't really clicking. I figured we'd enjoy dinner, go our separate ways, and that would be that.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Since it was a gorgeous night, he wanted to walk by the waterfront after dinner. As I had no interest in prolonging the evening, I steered him instead toward my car so we could say good night. I take my personal bubble pretty seriously, and unless I really like a guy, do not invite him into my space. Keeping a good distance between us, I thanked him for dinner - and he took this as his cue to grab my chin and invade my mouth!

We're talking full tongue on tongue action for a good 45 seconds - even though I tried to pull away twice! And the kiss was NOT good. In fact, it was my worst kiss ever - I never judge a kisser by the first encounter, but this was soooo bad that even if I'd fallen madly in love with the guy, I would not have wanted to repeat the experience.

Just because a guy wants to drop $80 on dinner, does not mean I'm automatically going to make out with him. And that's what this was - there was no slow start with a grand finale, just full speed ahead from the start. As he walked away, I was furiously wiping my mouth and counting down the seconds until I could get to my toothbrush.

At least he didn't say he would call - let's hope he doesn't!