Since I bounce like an 80's pogo-stick, I figured I should expand on my adventures hobbling and wobbling around in a medical-grade (not Steve Madden unfortunately) Velcro boot. So... I ended up having broken toes I mentioned two posts ago for more than 6 weeks!! Possibly because I didn't seek medical attention or possibly because I can't stop, won't stop....1. Conceal the pain |
Yes, that is a hand-carved illustration of his heart rate the night we met. Hardly two weeks after meeting me. Every girl I've talked to about it, to ensure I wasn't just being a frozen tundra, reassured me that they would have dropped him like it was hot if they received something so.... intimate? before seriously dating that person for at least a year. A few girls that participated in my impromptu poll, said even a year is too soon if eva for something like that. |
One thing I noted in post number 1 of this series was that he downloaded Snapchat for the sole reason that I thoroughly enjoyed it and frequently use it. This should have been a warning sign. The last guy that downloaded Snapchat for the exact same reason used it against me; the time and nature of my posts were instrumental in tracking my whereabouts and dispelling my excuses for "not being on my phone."
A couple days after the wood gift he dropped off briefly after calling to see if he could drop by, I went out on another local's impromptu brewery tour and posted a few snaps portraying the cool places or beers. Ever since I visited Michigan to visit my long-term ex in 2015, I've been in LOVE with craft beers and breweries. While enjoying the drinks and snapping moments from this particular night in Pensacola, I didn't know I was opening the door for a drop-in visitor.
Mr. Woodstock told me the very next morning that he almost came out to the breweries I was at, but decided he didn't want to intrude on my plans. WHAT!? Who does that? Drive-by-shootings aren't just hazardous in the hood!
"Hi, nice to meet you! Is this your girlfriend?" His friend stated.
Mr. Woodstock responded, "well ye--"
"No," I said more curtly than I intended.
This drunk girl, moments later broke into laughter and pulled my best friend and I aside after him and I shared a kiss. "Is that your first kiss? First date?" She blurted.
My eyes met hers and I could only gather, "Umm.... No."
My best friend rolled her eyes and the drunk girl had her answer. She cackled all the way home....err back to her boyfriend.
...
I got sick later that night and he offered to come lay by me. I reminded him, my best friend and I were sharing a one bedroom, hence one bed. Then he offered to just sleep on the floor and play with my hair or pat my back to console me.
Without hesitation, I declined.
The next day, Easter morning, I went to brunch with my best friend and posted this on Snapchat. There's no time stamp or location stamp, but if you look closer, the drinks we're holding disclosed our location since they're very discernible glasses.
Mr. Woodstock, and 68 of my other followers viewed it.
Then, he showed up.
Although it could totally be a coincidence he showed up at the same bar we were having brunch after admitting he almost showed up to my brewery tour, this was the last straw.
Presently, I'm in an exit clause phase. There always has to be a visible exit-- an out. In this interaction, I no longer see that as a viable option. I'm currently in a sales position which has reasonable turnover rate, am in a month-to-month lease, and a mattress is my sole piece of furniture; I'm not looking to be contained. If need be, I can tetris what I can in my little, bitty Honda and drive off into the sunset. I'm not saying I will.... but the option is there.
Mr. Woodstock, on the other hand, is on an accelerated road towards something I'm presently not able to give him.... peace out, girlscout.
Will this 30 year old was sweet like syrup filling every compartment of your waffle. No I don't mean that pervertedly ... Way to go guys. Just kidding. He apps to meet any of your needs or at least address them. He was very transparent in his desires and ambitions and hurdles. He was raised a Boy Scout in which he recited the oath to me. "Wilderness explorer!" Or maybe that was Russell from "Up." If he were a Disney character, that's certainly who I would peg him as! He left the date idea to me by presenting three options. He had a bag in his car to accommodate each choice. I can't remember the other two choices but I selected the Fort Pickens option.
After lubing up with my SPF 100, good luck sun, we embarked and joined the 1 o'clock tour. About 15 minutes in, we ditched the tourists and meandered to an area built for a view but the ladder rungs were blocked. That didn't stop either of us. After exercising a little parkour that neither of us knew we, we made it to the top from breathtaking views. This word remind me a lot of villains in Charleston. Obviously I know much different Wars but, still u.s. history. There were several spots along the fort where he kissed me; quite romantic.
And he took me home and planned our next date. I was sure to make it clear, as always, that I was dating other people and he certainly made it clear he was only interested in dating me. It evoked a little bit of guilt I'm not really sure that it was intentional ... I'm such a guilt driven person .
I found that most appropriate for the recipe today. I also want to try in good old Pensacola since that's where he was born and raised so today's dessert is a Bushwacker.
Bushwacker
(makes 3)
2. oz Coconut Rum
2 oz. Vodka
2 Oz. Bailey’s
2 oz. Kahlua
2 oz. Amaretto
2 oz. Cream of Coconut
Chocolate Syrup
Pinch of Nutmeg
Drizzle chocolate syrup in a glass. Combine all ingredients in a blender, blend with ice, pour in the glass. Sprinkle with nutmeg
http://www.rumtherapy.com/2011/06/frozen-bushwackers/
Well, he was sitting at a bar stool alone in the piano bar and I struck up a conversation about the song that was on since my best friend and I sat next to him on the two empty bar stools waiting there.
The conversation was sweet, like the vodka soda with a splash of cranberry I was sipping on. As the conversation continued, we ended up meandering 2 another room of the massive bar that housed a stage in the corner with a pretty banging cover band. Well my best friend ruled over the heartbreaker lead singer, mr. Woodstock dance near me. He informed both her and I that the lead singer is a friend of his and is quite the heartbreaker. He has one baby mama and one girlfriend that he's aware of. That didn't stop the best friend from drooling and my Tipsy self replied, "yeah she always goes for no good, ass Jacks, and I make sure not to go for guys that are tens. I'm such a--"
His blue eyes locked into mine as he interjected oh. Sounding deflated.
Confused at his reaction, I continued dancing as to not enhance my awkward.
Oh, I thought does that mean he's into me?
Anywhoooooo! My best friend and I were itching to dance, so before heading for the club section of the multipurpose bar, I invited him along. Mr. Woodstock gave a warranted exclamation of why he detested the club and how he wouldn't be caught in there. He never said dead, so I didn't want to be dramatic. So, I bid him adieu and told him if I ran into him later than great. Not wanting to risk not seeing me again, he grabbed my hand, blinked his blue eyes, and requested my phone number. As eager as a tipsy girl could be, I punched it into his phone with precision and smiled as I strutted away.
Moments later on the dance floor, my best friend was dancing between two guys. The one that obviously wasn't winning this dance battle with her, made advances over to me. [Typical]
Before I could even react, I felt a hand on my hip and heard a voice at heard before say, "hey Steph."
Reading my best friend's face of shock, I whipped around to find mr. Woodstock. Taken aback because of all the things he just said about despising the club and how he wouldn't be caught in here, I gazed in Bewilderment. I'm not certain if I stopped dancing, but my insides froze. Smiling and touching my hand with his, he continued dancing with me. Eventually, the shock wore off and the clock stroke 3.
My blonde best friend had hit an emotional part in her drunk and the waterworks couldn't be contained.
"Hey, can I drive y'all home?" He offered.
Judgment call: I felt that any guy, even if he's one you just met a couple hours before, offers a crying girl and her friend a ride home, probably, isn't, most likely not going to chop us up into little bitty pieces and tile his bathroom with the remains. I know.... that was a little graphic for me too. #sorrynotsorry
Before he took us home, he asked permission for us to take a detour. Another judgement call Tipsy Stephanie made: sure! Adventure Time! But not like the show... I've been saying it a lot longer.
Then he walked us to a dock on the bay. My best friend was able to have some alone time since she didn't want to be consoled in her tears. Meanwhile, back at the bay, we walked to the edge of the pier where he kissed me. In the moonlight, just this stranger and I. I couldn't have predicted this might with a multiple choice options. We apparently kissed in the corner of the club as well but that part's a little hazy-- whoops!
Once we arrived home and my friend was safe and sound in the bed, he revealed things to me. We had a heart-to-heart. Complete strangers, yet engaged in personal things.
Now, as you've read from my beginning posts in '17 till now, surely I was bound to learn something so, I was just listening this time. Avoiding intimate details about myself and my past, all I revealed when he admitted his battle with depression was my tendency to push people away and resist complacency and routine for too long.
He took kindly to the news but was hopeful in his phrase around 5am: "well, I hope you can stick around long enough for me to show you Pensacola." He kissed me once more and headed to the door. "Great meeting you and when can I see you again? "
"Umm... Tuesday?"
"I'll pick you up at 12," he said smiling.
Just 1 of a 3 part series
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
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