Let's Dance

The receptionist in the sales and leasing office where I work quit in October and the company I work for determined that we were just fine without a new one.  Granted, that is largely because I have since taken it upon myself to create hybrid role of doing my sales job plus being a receptionist.  I actually don't mind it because it means I am able to interact with people a lot more, it helps out the office, and since that desk is away from everyone else I can write my beloved little blog.

Golly gee!  Good thing I went to college!

The other day a tall, dark haired and dark eyed [I usually prefer blue, but I'm working on being more open] surprisingly attractive guy in gym shorts [hello, calves!] came in for a package.  Upon returning with said package, he informed me that he had misplaced his fitness center/pool pass.

Me:  Did you lose it lose it, or is it just misplaced?  Because if you go through our corporate headquarters, they'll charge you $25 or $50 for a new one.

Hottie:  Pretty sure it's lost for good.  There's no way I can get another one here? 

Me:  Nope, sorry.  I know it's a pain, but you here's the number for the condo property manager.  Like I said, she'll probably charge you $25.

Hottie:  That's fine.  How much for your number?

Me:  [disregarding the sudden weakness in my knees]  A lot more than that.

Hottie:  Do you have a boyfriend?

[Is he in sales?  First the ballsy question, now the overcoming-the-silent-objection second one?] 

Me:  [now is not the time to use your stock response for old/toothless/ugly men] No, but I don't think you can afford me.

Hottie:  (laughs) Well you don't have to give it to me if you don't want to.  Do you live here?

Blah, blah, small talk while I write my number on a post-it.

He texted me later that day and we are meeting for drinks this Saturday at a hole in the wall bar near where I live.  Not exactly sure how I feel about his venue/activity choice just yet, but I believe in giving him the benefit of the doubt that he didn't want to lock into dinner unnecessarily and knows that place is in my neck of the woods.  Naturally, I googled him.  [He gave me his full name and address so I could get his package for crying out loud!]  I'm not sure whether to be deterred or encouraged by his lack of presence on the internet.  All I could seem to find was his age - 35.

Enter the judgment and scrutiny.  35 and single...  Ex-wife?  Or better yet current, crazy wife hidden in his attic a la Jane Eyre?  Is he a commitment-phobe?  Player?  Body is covered in barbed wire and Tweety Bird tattoos?  Too busy making his millions?  Has five kids by five different women?  Tiny penis?

I'm through with being scientific, why don't we just poke him and see what happens?

I have already found one fatal flaw:  his name.  No, it's not a four-letter boy name.  Worse - my brother's name.  A wonderful, masculine, strong, classic name [and he even spells it correctly] but he needs a nickname immediately.  How can I ever even imagine having a future with someone where, if I screamed out their name in bed, I would spontaneously projectile vomit?

He texted me again last night while I was succumbing to my irrepressible curiosity about the new judges on American Idol.  Good job guys, you roped me back in. 

Hottie:  Any good pickup lines today?  Or am I still in the lead?

Me:  Prior to you there have been several funny ones... Day off today - third interview, got an offer, don't think I'm accepting it.

Hottie:  Um...interviewing for?

Me:  Sales for a recruiting and staffing firm.  Rephrase: not accepting it.  Do anything fun today?  Pay for any numbers?

[I may lament my current job situation, but I'm being proactive and interviewing shamelessly.  I'll be damned if I leave the frying pan for the fire.  I will leave for something fun (wine & spirits sales perhaps?) and/or a lot more money, duh.]

Hottie:  Lol @ rephrase.  Ur funny.  Nope, nothin too fun nor did I pay for any numbers.

[I'm going to try to overlook the fact that he texts like a 13 year old girl.]

Me:  Sounds thrilling

Hottie:  I see somebody has a little spunk to them.  That's good.

[I cannot help but think of Joe Pesci in Goodfellas.  Funny how?]

Me: Hahahaha, and you?

Hottie:  Hmmm...what do u think?

Me:  Verdict is still out

Hottie:  Haha well there had to be a reason u gave me ur number.....since Im sure ur asked for it daily

[That's right, because I'm sure no one has ever told him he's attractive before...oh boys...but he has been stroking my ego, (in our previous conversation he called me a "natural beauty,") I'll throw him a bone.]

Me:  Nice calves ;)

Hottie:  Hahaha...so ur saying I would have left numberless if I was in long pants?

Me:  I'm sure that happens to you a lot.  At least now you know why.

Hottie:  Lol...which part?  Gettin numbers cuz of my calves or not gettin them cuz they're hidden?

[With every "lol" I feel less bad about giving him a hard time.]

Me:  I'm guessing not getting them - without those puppies, it must be hard with your face ;)

Hottie:  Omg lmao...wow

[In spite of the massive overuse of texting acronyms, I decide to have mercy on him at this point.  The guy is buying me drinks on Saturday after all and I'm getting sleepy.  Plus, J Lo is too nice to everyone on this show and really needs to have a serious talk with her stylist.  Thank God for Steven Tyler.]

Me:  You know it wasn't the calves.  But they are quite nice.

Hottie:  Ha, well thank u.  But don't worry, I'm not fragile.

Put on your red shoes and dance...