So there I am last night, in my non air conditioned house, trying to put my makeup on while simultaneously trying to sip my pre-date glass of wine and not have a complete hissy fit because I keep sweating off all of my concealer. Why does it feel like one hundred degrees at nine o’clock at night? After numerous attempts to position myself under my ceiling fan at the best angle to get the most wind on my sweaty, non date-ready face, I scrapped my plan and decided to move locations. I couldn’t concern myself with outfit choices at that moment, so I just went ahead and threw on the same one I wore on Sunday night with Bachelor #1. Of course I washed it…fine, febreezed it. I headed out to my car, turned on the radio and blasted the AC to the highest it could go and finished the getting ready process in my driveway. That was better. Sans runny make-up I headed to the bar Bachelor #2 and I had decided on the day before feeling all nice and chilly in my vehicle.

I parked about a block away and as I was walking up to the entrance I could feel the sweat coming. Was it really that hot last night, was I super nervous to meet this guy, or am I just a neurotic Jewish girl? I hoped I would get there first, to wipe down and clean up a little in the bathroom, but no such luck, Bachelor #2 was waiting with a big smile at a table outside. He looked just like his pictures and was very cute. Tall and strong, he was a blue eyed guy from New York. He was also bald. Not George Costanza bald, more like Bruce Willis shaved bald. That’s not usually my thing, I like shaggy haired band guys, but this was pretty sexy, I liked it. Beyond the physical, Bachelor #2 was nice to hang out with- the conversation came easily, we both were comfortable and we talked about, well everything. I liked him because he really seemed to know who he was, he wasn’t trying too hard to impress or be witty or be charming, he was just being himself and that is more attractive than any witty comment he could have made. Maybe it was an East Coast thing but my bullshit meter didn’t go off one bit. He asked me if I had any “deal breakers”. I told him yes- wearing socks to bed and saying the word “stoked” too much. He said his were liars and people who tried too hard to be witty. Oh.

Photo by Ivania*~

Before I knew it we had our third round of cocktails (remember I also had my glass of wine at home) and this lightweight was drunk. Like really drunk. Oops. I was trying hard to hide it, “I’m just buzzed” I told him, but I knew for certain he’d have to drive me home. He opened his car door for me, something I never really notice, but I realized just how nice it is when it happens. On the way home we kissed at two red lights, and though his technique needs some work (waaaay too much tongue) it was pretty fun. We made out some more in my driveway and then he asked if he could use my bathroom. Sure I said, I told him to be quiet cause my roommates and dog were sleeping and I waited for him on the couch in the living room.

We had about a two minute hot and heavy couch make-out session until he had to pee again. Ok. He came back and we smooched for another minute before he had to make a return trip to the bathroom. When he came back I asked if he was ok, he said no, that “it was burning” and he couldn’t pee and he had to go. He looked like he was in some serious pain. He grabbed his keys, told me he had fun and bounced. What? Just like that. Maybe it was because I had all those cocktails, but I couldn’t tell if it was like a high school blue balls type thing or an old man who needs some flo-max type thing. Then I started to think maybe he just wanted to get out of my house, but if that were the case that was a really big production to go through. I decided I was too wasted to attempt to figure this one out and went to look for a snack instead.

This morning I woke up hurting, with last nights outfit still on (including boots) and a mother of a hangover. As the events of Bachelor #2’s date came back to me, I’m not totally certain how to feel except annoyed at myself that I drank so much. I had a good time and was definitely attracted to him, but confused and a little worried about the end of the night there.

All I know is this- my next Jdate will be coffee, not cocktails. Now I’m off to go find my car and some sort of hangover worthy extra greasy breakfast burrito.