** Today we have a guest post from Blondie, who has agreed to share some of her dating adventures in the city. Like some people we know (ahem) Blondie is enjoying a fairly fresh foray into singledom, making good use of the wonders and joys of the Internet. ***
Friday night was supposed to be my dating night off. Thursday night I had been with a couple I see, and I had a date on Saturday with a guy I've been seeing for a little while - so Friday I was going relax and give my "body" a rest.
I ended up going out to the bars with a couple friends. The plan was just to have a beer or two, go home and watch a movie. Well, I get to the bar and we hang out a bit and I realize that this guy who I've had a massive crush on at the gym is there. Not some guy I've seen - but a hot 6 foot 7 inch tall basketball player I've been watching while I cool down on the track for the last 5 years.
I tell my friend the story and he talks me into talking to the guy. Long story short - I talk to him and end up going home with him that night. Yep - I got to sleep with my gym crush. But that's not all.
Side note - this gym guy ends up not being very bright. It was an interesting situation for me - I felt like one of those guys who sleeps with hot dumb chicks. While we were hanging out post sex, I was found myself having an internal debate about hotness vs. intellect. Does his hotness make up for lack of smarts? Would I ever dare bring this guy around my friends? Would I be comfortable keeping a guy around for sex just because he was hot, even if he wasn't that interesting to talk to? (I appreciate that this might make me sound like an asshole but I have smart friends and they would call me out on this.)
But, the sex is fun, I have a good time. And, oddly, after sex, he hung out completely naked until I left. He was up walking around, doing all kinds of things. I thought it was cool how comfortable he was, most guys throw on a pair of boxers or something. Though I guess I could have done without him leaving the door open and looking at and speaking to me while he pissed.
As we're hanging out afterwards, he asks if I want to spend the night. I say no because, quite frankly, his apartment was kind of a shit-hole. I don't quite understand how a 32-year-old guy with a professional-type job could live like that. Anyway, I say no thanks and go home at about 3:30am or so. When I got home, I sent him a text saying I made it home safely. He didn't text back until the next day, but this is the conversation:
Me - I made it home safely.
Him - Who is this?
Me - Uh ... Blondie. The girl you slept with last night.
Him - Haha, no seriously, who is this?
Me - I am serious. Don't you remember?
Him - I'm in Seattle with my fiance. I think you have the wrong number
Me - HA! You're right. Wrong number. That's hilarious.
It turns out that I don't have the right phone number for this guy. He just gave me his number, I didn't give him mine. So now, not only did I hook up with the hot dumb guy, but I'm the one who never called again. Part of me feels a tad bad about that, but part of me thinks it's a little funny, if a bit of a bummer because I would like the option of sleeping with him again ... but c'est la vie.