Of Pompeii and Paramedics


So Rich Guy and the Paramedic. Normally I wouldn’t label anyone as Rich Guy, but—he did advertise himself in this way. That was his highlighted feature! I liked Rich Guy, but I haven’t heard back from him in a few days and I have a feeling that fish is dead in the water. The Paramedic on the other hand? That’s one’s a strong marine creature.


He is definitely a strange fish though. I messaged him first, interested in his profession. I mean … come on, nothing’s hotter than saving lives in a uniform! But he may be one of those fish who are discovered living in the depths of the ocean from a dark dark place that light never touches. Basically … he’s uncharted territory. Super cute, from the same state as me, then moved out west and just moved back here this week. He’s a paramedic on the side and works for hospital administration too. He’s cute Italian. Dark preppy cut hair, strong roman face, athletic build SUPPOSEDLY six foot. So from the photos if they can be trusted, he’s quite attractive.


The one good thing about my profile is my photos pull no punches. I’m not a great beauty although I like my hair and think I have fairly interesting features, though not classically pretty. Average build, I’m slightly taller, but again, my photos show this too when I’m standing with my friends. So hopefully anyone I meet won’t be expecting Kate Moss or Olivia Wilde.

However, there’s no guarantee he’ll look like HIS photos—which I try to keep in mind. He’s also an older brother to three sisters, which I find adorable. Having always wanted an older brother—it’s been a really attractive quality for me in guys. It’s just that cute thing … idk idk.

I digress from the real issue. He writes novels. No, not actual books, but his messages to me are never less than 1,000 words. Anyone who has done online dating knows getting long messages are usually like pulling teeth! So it’s kind of weird that he sends such long personal e-mails. I’m not sure what this means…


Always the pessimist, I’m slightly concerned that this rare creature may have developed this trait as a protective measure, via Darwin and survival of the fittest. Maybe the long letters are to make up for something else—something I can’t see in the dark.


Or maybe he’s just really chatty and this signifies nothing except that I have finally met someone who can talk as much as me!

He even sent me a message last night that said he was still getting settled so he would send me a proper message today. Proper message, aka, a super long essay.

I don’t mind really, I enjoy leaning a lot in those e-mails and he’s from match.com, which signifies he’s maybe looking for more than just a hookup—which would be nice lol.

So I’m definitely looking for some opinions on this. Like I said, I wasn’t born yesterday into online dating and I can appreciate a guy who talks and tells stories, but I just have literally never met someone who has SO MUCH to say! It’s a mystery for now.

In other news, my friends wanted to set me up on a date with a guy two hours away. He was blonde they told me and it would be great. However, did some investigation and yeah, he is sooo tiny and looks young. Like illegal age young. Also it turns out, he used to have a gigantic CRUSH on my friend setting me up. Not really a fan of pushed together leftovers. So as lovely as the intent was behind the setup, I had to decline that one. I may be searching, but I don’t consider myself desperate …. yet lol.


I watch Pompeii last night and we had series of severe thunderstorms. A lightning strike burnt down a house on the east side of the city. (I’m southeast!) And I have to say nothing is quite so intense as watching a volcano erupt during a severe lightning storm. It really drove home the surround sound experience!!

So Paramedic wants to meet and after I get this “proper” e-mail and I think I’m going to say okay.

There wasn’t much to this e-mail so I thought I would also share a story from my college years.

One of my roommates, we’ll call her Jenny dated a guy … we’ll call him Mike. Mike was a little … well we suspect he took cold pills … copiously and so he ended up living with us for months and doing some weird stuff.

They were baking one day and she asked him for a cup of milk. He gave her a party glass full of milk. He had no concept of the measurement “cup.”


I was home sick and watching Coach Carter. He asked to watch it with me and then ever four minutes said, “Man, this movie—it just makes me want to go shoot some hoops. Wanna go play some bball with me?” After the third time, I stopped reminding him I would if I wasn’t running a fever and throwing up every half hour.


He attempted to heat up leftovers. That would have been fine if he had not put a Tupperware container on our electric stove top and turned on the burner.

He fiddled with Jenny’s beta fish filter and when another roommate came out and saw the fish flopping in an inch of water, she saved the fish and told Jenny she thought it might be the filter because she noticed Mike touching it. Roommate was accused of plotting to break up their happiness by accusing him of fish murder.


Later on, Jenny and Mike met online and discovered they were actually first cousins by marriage. They still continued to date and the stories just kept getting crazier! Lol maybe one day I’ll make a post dedicated to their relationship …


In the meantime, have a happy Fourth of July …. which really only is probably celebrated by the USAians lol So happy early weekend to everyone not celebrating the Fourth!




Trolls and Tales

So just as a little filler for while my dating life is gearing up for another round of dates (i.e. one painstaking one at a time), I thought I might share a couple of messages I’ve received online. A couple from trolls I’m sure, and then a couple tragically, I believe are real. And those are perhaps the most concerning …


Exhibit A:

“Hello, you appear sane and are adorable in your pictures. I would enjoy talking if you’re interested.”

I have to say, this prospect (more of a December to my May) had an interesting approach. Sane and adorable? I felt more like I was an animal at a cracked out petting zoo!


Exhibit B:

“Is your last name Gillette? Because you’re the best a man can get.”

Okay, so this one was pretty cute. However, I was not interested in the profile answers which revealed he did not believe in monogamy and was only looking for casual sex. That and his (albeit completely honest) height of 5’1” led to a decided lack of response on my part.


You never realized just how sexual the advertisements for razors could be, did you??

Exhibit C:

“Heya girlie. Love the profile and pics. Not sure if you would be interested but I’m looking for a woman interested in having sex with my boyfriend while I am gone for work. I travel a lot for work and decided to allow him to have a playmate while I am gone. Think you would be interested?”

Okay, so I feel the need to divulge this one was from a woman … at least, the profile stated it was a girl. However, the reason this little gem didn’t win the grand ultimate supreme title was because … this was a troll. And if the incredulous reaction to the request wasn’t enough, I have had this same exact message before from the same exact profile with the same exact picture about three years ago. So yeah, sorry, but not sorry I won’t be interested in be your “boyfriend’s” playmate Blake Lively lookalike ….


Grand Ultimate Supreme Title Champion:

(okay so can you tell I’ve been watching a bit of Toddlers and Tiaras on Netflix lately?)

This is my weirdest message to date.

“Wow you look cute enough to take to church. So this is my 1st week on the site and I just thought you was cute and liked your profile. I guess ill ask some random questions and hope to hear back from you. Let’s see. Favorite Color? You look like a yoga girl have you tried it before? Do you like candles ? there’s a hook to this question. Lol”

Okay soo many questions.

First of all, not sure if the church comment was supposed to be a compliment?? Do I look as though I belong in a church like a nun, good Christian girl, or, it did occur to me, do I look scandalous and need to be taken to church to be saved? I would like to think it’s the latter …


Random questions are fine, unnecessarily announcing your intentions is a little weird and … unnecessary.

I can honestly say I have an average body, but have never ever been accused of looking like I do yoga. I do not have the lithe, stretchable body type. My physical therapist used to tell me I had the tightest hamstrings she’d ever seen. Also, trust me on this, I do NOT look like a yoga girl. And yes, I have tried—and failed several times.ImageTrust me, I do not look like that. When I tried, I looked more along the lines of this guy below …Image

And last but not least. Do I like candles? It seemed innocent enough, but there’s apparently a hook to this question—which was probably the most concerning comment of the entire message. How is there a hook to liking candles? Was he planning on taking a sexual hook? Did he have a candle fetish? Was he allergic and that would eliminate me from the running?


Or maybe did his place look a little something like this?Image

Alas, I never responded back to bubbles. Yes, his screen name was a variation of bubbles and he no longer has an account. It was a lost opportunity.

It appears I will be haunted forever by the question, what was the hook??

Perhaps he enjoyed making human people candles like these?


Until next time—hope I have some more good date stories for ya!


Date #1: Sushi and Serial Killers


So last Monday I went on a date for the first time in 1 year, 7 months, and 11 days. I have gone all “Pimp my Profile” on Match and Okcupid and met a couple good ones initially.

By good ones, I mean, looking at their pictures, I could imagine being attracted to them, they made me laugh at least once reading the profile, lived fairly close, and I didn’t feel as though I would end up on the real life version of either Big Love or Law and Order: SVU.


So I really liked Young Blonde guy, but after a few messages, never heard back from him. So it was narrowed down to Boring. I know this sounds terrible, and I might quite possibly be evil and karmaing myself at every turn here, but I came to call him Boring McBoringson. He never came off as creepy or stalkery. I never got the sense he had a family in the hills, or that he was a sexual deviant—like so many of the users I’ve spoken with, and have subsequently creeped me out.

But every message was so robotic, so strange, so spelling-out-the-obvious unnecessary. I also couldn’t tell if at some points he was being an asshole or had the driest sense of humor in the world. Case in point, he messaged me out of nowhere saying it was “Time to prepare dinner” to which I wanted to inquire as to why he was giving me an itinerary of his day [I got these updates hourly. Time to go to work. Time to go to the grocery store, etc.]. Also I was on vacation at the time. Instead, I tried to be interested and texted him back. “So you can cook a lot then?? Lol” The response I received: “Well I baked a chicken and it didn’t come out undercooked. I also made a garden salad with oil and vinegar and baked some bread. So …. I guess?” So … was he trying to be funny or an asshole? I couldn’t tell.


He asked me out the day he wanted to go out and normally I would say no. I like to be prepared, but I wasn’t sure I was completely into Boring and my hair was looking great that day so I agreed. He said he wanted to go to a sushi bar.


I don’t like raw fish and I’m not super adventurous, so I told him that I didn’t really like sushi, but if they had cooked options I could try it. He assured me there were tons of options.


That was a little off-putting. I mean … I did agree to go hesitantly, but if I was asking someone out and knew they didn’t like something—I might suggest something else. However, I did say ok, so it was set.

Going into the date with Boring I had a couple of concerns.

1.) He said he hated his mom because she was “crazy.”

2.) He never mentioned friends or family (except his mom) like … ever. When I asked he was evasive.

3.) He said he hated the beach.

This was a big deal.

I mean, I LOVE the beach. So I asked him what he considered a good vacation and he said hiking in Burma, staying in a hostel in a “gritty” real–non-touristy area, and tenting it up in Belize.



I mean, what would his ideas be for a HONEYMOON?


or perhaps this?


I know, a little premature, but you have to think about these things 🙂

So he acted weird when we set it up. He kept trying to get me to meet him at his car in the parking lot. [Yeah, notgoing to happen…] So I texted him at the restaurant door and when he appeared, he did not look like his photo. Or rather, he had been very strategic in his photography. If you have ever watched Captain America, imagine Chris Evans with dark hair—BEFORE the steroids. He was so tiny!


He was about my height and I try not to be weird about that because I’m 5’9” and a half, but I consider myself at an average weight, but he made me feel extremely large next to him. He seemed … delicate and that made me feel like a giant.

So as it turns out the “lots” of cooked options included rice. He got upset when I wouldn’t order sushi and I had to remind him, “I did warn you that I didn’t eat sushi!” When he continued to try to force me to eat it. I wasn’t going to make a big thing out of the fact that there wasn’t anything for me to order, but I WASN’T going to be bullied into eating something I didn’t want to.

For the first ten minutes, he flipped through the menu, kept sending the waitress away and not speaking. I tried tentatively and got one word answers with no eye contact.

After ordering, he became a little more talkative and he did have really cute smiling eyes … but he was just as boring in person.

He had a hard time explaining his job, he kept saying “computer protection services—no not technical support” (computer mafia??) and explained how mad he was when his family discovered his address. He didn’t like them knowing where he lived. And yeah, I get that some families—it’s better they don’t know. But the things he described, they just sounded like a nice family who wanted to keep in contact with him.

I asked him how he would escape from a deserted island if he got shipwrecked (he liked to go sailing) and he answered: “Why would I want to escape? There wouldn’t be any people there.”

Why indeed.

I knew I had subconsciously decided there was no hope for this going further when he asked me who my favorite actor was and I said Nicholas Cage.


Parting ways, he walked around a car next to mine and said “Well, see ya.”

I tried to be polite, telling him “Thanks, I had a good time.” To which I received a dismissive wave and a “Yep.”

Very clinical. And the next day I received this gem. “I just remembered it’s $5 movie night at the theater I live beside. Think I might go later. You can come with if you absolutely don’t have anything better to do.”

Let’s say it was difficult to resist the temptation because as he had guessed it so eloquently, I  “absolutely didn’t have anything better to do.” But considering his lack of friends, hatred of his mother (I mean, there was some real Norman Bates stuff going on there), and general lack of human emotion I suspect there is a 50 percent chance he may be a serial killer.

So as much as it pained me, I had to refuse.

As a last note, I have started talking to a paramedic moving to my area—so fingers crossed this one is a match!

….. Actually …. come to think of it, Boring actually does have a striking similar face to Norman ….



Banana Peels and Bad Life Choices


So I know it’s been far, far too long since my last update and I apologize! However, the good news is I have news. It’s unfortunate that all of it is rather … well … unfortunate. When last we left, Hot Bartender had left the restaurant and the state of our wedding date was in dire straits.

Well …. Let’s just say that things most certainly did NOT turn out how I was expecting them to go. I had a good scenario hypothesis and a bad scenario. I did not have a what-the-hell-did-this-really-happen? scenario. My mistake.

The best way to describe what occurred in the events leading up to the last five days before the wedding are strange. The best way to describe is, it was a banana peel situation.

Imagine you’re put into a room and before they open the door, the people (obviously they are wearing white lab coats and you are the idiot who signed up for this willingly) tell you, “You have one goal, to make it to the other side of the room where there is a trophy. Depending on how well you maneuver the obstacles in the room, we may give it to you. There’s the obvious banana peel two steps in front of you. There may also be lions, bears, crocodiles, and dragons (gotta love Game of Thrones!). It will be dangerous.” Well you really want the trophy so you agree. You open the door and are so concerned trying to scope out the predatory creatures that you step on that damned banana peel and fall. Hard.

This is because you’re an idiot—that was the one thing they assured you WAS ACTUALLY IN THE ROOM. The rest was a possibility, but it was clear from the get go you needed to make sure you didn’t step on the banana peel.

Well guys, I stepped on the banana peel. Or, in other words, I missed the wedding. Yep, I missed it. How is this possible you may ask. Well, I assumed when my friend told me it would be the last weekend in May it would actually be the last weekend—aka the 31st. As it turns out, she meant the last FULL weekend in May—aka Memorial Day weekend, the 24th. Soo … I missed it. I never checked the date on the invitation. 


And when I was looking on Facebook and noticed her WEDDING PHOTOS, I found out.

This left only one thing to do. I had to tell Hot Bartender that we missed the wedding.

—After I finished laughing hysterically of course. After all, it was kind of funny …

I had been so wrapped up in all the stuff that could have gone wrong at the wedding, I forgot to double check the date of the wedding. Pretty small fry stuff to mess up on lol

Annnd then things get rocky. I was thinking of how to tell him via Facebook—because of course I did not have his number—and was kind of accepting the fact that we wouldn’t be happening, but I could not have foretold how the conversation would actually go.

Here’s a snippet of our chat for you to see for yourself ….

Me: So you know how there are terrible people in the world? Yeah I think I’m one of them lol … it might be hard to read, but I messed up the date my friend got married … as in … she got married May 24–last Saturday. I don’t know how it happened! lol So thanks for agreeing to go with me … the person who, as it turns out, cannot read

Hot Bartender: So we missed it?? Lol oh lord

Me: Yes lol I feel so TERRIBLE …

Hot Bartender: Well shit that’s no fun!!

[I’m feeling hopeful, maybe this means he is disappointed!!!]

Me: lol yeah no kidding … it’s one of those moments where i feel stupid haha I’ve been having those frequently lately …

Hot Bartender: Lol you’ll be ok it will straighten out

Me: i know–I went and saw Godzilla tonight … it’s good to put things in perspective! lol


Hot Bartender: Lol I heard it sucked since the lizard really isn’t in it much btw I didn’t get to see you in your dress so you gonna have to put it on and send a pic of it since I know you were excited about it! Off topic lol back on movie topic I want to see neighbors

Me: lol it was actually really good–but very loud with many explosions and monster roaring haha … and we should see it on Sunday then! Since we (and by we I mean I haha) blew the wedding … and lol it is a shame because it was a really awesome dress

Hot Bartender: Well put it on and send me a picture so I can see it then goofball lol

[I saw a lot of red flags at this point, but I reluctantly sent him a picture—I knew it was a mistake…]

Hot Bartender: Well that is an awesome dress!

Me: haha thx

Hot Bartender: It really highlights your upper chest features lol

Me: LOL i appreciate that … I always thought the uniform held me back from my … real potential haha

Hot Bartender: idk all i’ve got to go off of is the dress and the uniform …

[So not going to happen, we haven’t even made out! But I still try to salvage it …]

Me: But sometime maybe we’ll have to hang out so you can see me in apparel that is not logans-wear lol

Hot Bartender: Haha well I have seen you in what you wore on your birthday and I def looked at your chest lol 

[He remembers my birthday from September and how I looked?!? … but he’s avoiding the whole want to hang out thing …]

Me: haha that does explain the birthday song lol

Hot Bartender: Yea yea lol I mean you might as well just show them to me since they were basically out already that night Hahaha

[And that.]

Me: lol they weren’t! and I don’t do ANYTHING until after a date … lol it’s been so long you’re pretty much a stranger now …

Hot Bartender: Haha very funny I’m not a stranger Goofball Lol

Me: uhuh …

Hot Bartender: You know you wanna show me ur just talkin itself out of it hahaha

[Just … no.]

Me: lol i talk myself out of a lot of things i consider doing … lol this is not one of them

Hot Bartender: Haha fair enough

Me: 🙂

Hot Bartender: So your talking urself into it got it haha

Me: NO I am not—you are crazy

Hot Bartender: Haha I know I know


Soo ….yeah. I mean … I don’t even know. I knew things would go downhill if I sent him a picture of me in the dress, but honestly I don’t get it! I was more than willing to give him something real instead of a picture, but every time I tried to steer my oar around the gigantic creepiness of his insistence for a picture and combined with his compulsion to keep calling me “goofball” [I mean what was UP with that???], he just persistently went back to square one. And I was very realistic that I would gain nothing from giving him a picture and he wasn’t really interested in seeing me in person. Ever.

Unfortunately this spells the end of the Hot Bartender, even if I do miss him at work still and remember our flirtations fondly.

As a little ending to this post, I thought I would include the wonderful text I received on vacation from my other Bartender friend Mickey. Sent as a text photo straight from DUI class was this little gem.

Apparently the question for her essay was would you ever consider driving home after consuming alcohol okay? Her response?

No. It is never acceptable. I will always go out with friends who will make sure there is a responsible sober driver. And if anything ever happened that left me alone and drunk, I would call my virgin friend Andie. She is always there for me and would come and get me.


And if THAT wasn’t enough, she read it in front of her entire DUI class. Apparently everyone was silent for a second and then the questions started. What? Was she for real? For real, 23 years old?? According to Mickey they discussed my lack of sex life for approximately five minutes before the teacher stepped in to bring it back to sober driving.

Yeah. So …. that’s a thing, too.

Some days you have to laugh so you won’t cry lol


Grief and Gladiators


This was a hard post to write. In fact, I’ve put it off for as long as I possibly could this week, but seeing as how this could be the last few moments of hope I had to write them down.

Sunday was a … it was a dark day. Hot Bartender came up to me to talk and of course I was happy—I was always happy when he would come talk to me about his problems or something funny, or even a random story. I could listen to him talk for … a while. Lol I’m not crazy enough to say forever.

Unfortunately this was a story I didn’t want to hear. He has another job at Jared’s and he had told the restaurant a month ago he had to work there as well on Mother’s Day so he would have to come in at 6 p.m. on that day. He was really upset and told me that they had scheduled him to come in at 3 and when he had told them he couldn’t do it, they issued him an ultimatum—either he comes in at 3 or he shouldn’t bother coming in at all. As in fired. The guy who approved the schedule was on vacation. Of course that’s how fate would have to be.

But … I stared at him and didn’t believe it. Fired? No, they wouldn’t fire him—he’s a great server, a great bartender! We talked about it for a while. Screw my tables! This was devastating. Of course, we both agreed, he would have to pick his full time job. It wasn’t even a choice! 

We facebooked on Monday and he let me know he told them his decision. It felt comforting that he was once again coming to me to talk about it, but at the same time. No more weekends working right beside him. Looking to this weekend I don’t feel like putting on makeup or doing my hair or trying to look cute. There was only so much you could do with a serving uniform but I always tried to wear cute earrings at least. I don’t feel like there’s a reason to try there anymore.

And honestly, it’s not the best working environment—there was only one thing holding me there. And now he’s gone. It hasn’t sunk in entirely and I’m not sure it will until I go in tomorrow and face the weekend without him coming in.People used to have it bad back in the day I used to think. I mean look at the people who went west in the wagon trains … Image

They knew they would never see their friends or family again most likely. When I was little, I used to think there was no way I could ever do that. I mean, it’s so … final. But really when you think about it, even with all the technology and all the advancements–it still happens. I know that if my one last shot doesn’t work, that last Sunday may have very well been the last time I will ever see Hot Bartender again. Sure I might have facebook. But let’s face it, facebook is not the same as seeing someone in person. So even though there’s the potential and the feasibility–it may never happen. Just think about all of the people you graduated with that you said you’d keep in touch with … yeah. Maybe a couple and they were your really really close friends. So maybe we haven’t advanced quite so much. 


I think I still have the wedding. I hope. I finally found the dress yesterday—now—when it’s maybe too late. With 23 days left until the wedding I’m suddenly left unsure if it’s a sure thing. Everyone in the restaurant knows now thanks to my evil stepsister who has commenced torturing me more and more every day I work there. The most recent fun was getting a hundred dollars in ones and change. Yeah.


I have to check and see if he’s still planning on going to the wedding with me. I’m texting him right after I post this. And he might say things have changed. It was a relationship to be nurtured. He’s a little bit commitment-phobic and I didn’t want to scare him off. I wanted him to slowly realize we had amazing chemistry. I mean, we do! But I am out of time now. The wedding is literally the last chance I have to make something happen. It’s either going to be a beginning or a really wonderfully sad goodbye. No pressure or anything.

But now I have to know. For someone who would rather peel a bandaid slowly off rather than ripping it fast, the fact that I’m getting this over with quickly says something. I have to know because it’ll be even more devastating later. The fact of the matter is, this is important to me and there are no more chances. It’s a delicate tightrope act and I’ve never been that balanced.

I don’t know if I can keep working at the restaurant regardless of if it worked out between us. I was talking to an older server who knows about my feelings for Hot Bartender and she told me people were talking about the fact that we were going to the wedding together. I said I knew and immediately after this conversation, Hot Bartender comes up to tell me about his ultimatum.

So at the end of the shift, the older server comes over and tells me how terrible she feels and when I asked her why she told me “As soon as I told you that people were talking about the wedding the next time I saw you you had just changed. You were walking around like a ghost—like there wasn’t any happiness left inside of you and you just weren’t Andie. You just haven’t been you and I can tell you don’t have any happiness right now. I wish I hadn’t said anything at all.”Image

After telling her it wasn’t due to what she had told me–without sharing the rest of the story, I realized that I’ve got it bad. Real bad and working there will be so much harder after knowing what it was like working with him. I don’t know what I’m going to decide. But no choice is pretty.



After finding the dress, i’s perfect, I knew as soon as I tried it on it was the one, I had to ask him. 

So I’m going to do it and if things have changed I’ll be devastated. I knew it was risky going in—I knew this was a risk. So I’ve got to face it now.

In anticipation of gearing up to find out the truth and fight one last time for this to work out. I watched the movie Gladiator this morning before coming in to work. Russell Crowe had it going on in that movie and if there’s anyone I want to be like now, it’s Maximus. I mean, c’mon, he’s the very definition of awesomeness. I sort of feel like him too. Only, instead of an emperor, I’ve got the fates screwing with my life. I want to ask them “Are you entertained?” Image

Because I am not. I have fought so many times to keep my head above the water and live to fight another day for something that might just be unattainable. I wasn’t fighting the whole time for Hot Bartender, there were others along the way, but each time I’ve tried to keep going, tried to work to get the thumbs up. Tried to win. Unfortunately the rules of this game have changed. And now it’s out of my hands.Image

In the movie, Maximus says to keep ahold of your strength and honor and that’s what I’ll try to have when I hear the inevitable news that things have changed. I’m sure it’s coming, but I’ll hopefully be able to hold onto that and keep going to fight another day because I really like this one. I like him a lot and while it’s not my life in the balance like it was for Maximus, it is my happiness. He is what makes me happy. And that’s worth fighting for.



Curveballs and Competitive Streaks


Working with Hot Bartender just seems to get stranger and stranger …

First of all, we both seem to have picked up a couple of admirers. And our competitive streaks have really come full force, interacting with each other in weirdly invigorating ways.

We had a steak selling competition and I held the lead strongly from morning to afternoon and we razzed each other about it all day. He caught up with me when he got put in a better section for the evening shift and I attempted to get a handicap for my disadvantage. He assured me he wasn’t afraid to play dirty to win and (after that shameless attempt to play dirty myself) I innocently explained that I would NEVER cheat. He threw me the look. Happy frissons abound when I see that hopelessly cute amusingly exasperated expression. In the end, he beat me, but as I was leaving (my section while worse for guests, the first to be cut) I conceded defeat and said I wouldn’t hold it against him. He might have sold more T-bones, but I was getting to go home 🙂 He appeared to take winning the battle but losing the war gracefully.

So, onto the admirers. Heather is a 19 year old server, blonde, cute, nice, and I don’t really know her. They flirt and play around. As for myself, Matt, another bartender who always felt the need to inform me of how attractive he found other servers broke out telling me I was looking sexy on Sunday. He even included an expletive that added his usual amount of charm. I don’t like Matt, but I don’t mind flirting with him. “Well, I try,” I responded and then followed that up with, “But then again, I don’t have to.” We both laughed for a minute.

It’s the little things in the restaurant world.

A creepy old man, when asked if I could get him anything else requested a personal massage to which I responded that unfortunately I could only get him something I could ring up on our computer. So he was out of luck.

Hot Bartender was serving and managed to charm (not really surprisingly) a table of mid-twenties—early thirties women who had really given me the icy treatment. I of course, let him know about their strikingly different attitude. He gave a cocky grin and made sure to head over to that table one more time to flirt, catching my eye first. I think he was trying to make me jealous, which I also find cute considering I wasn’t. I just rolled my eyes, not pandering (okay maybe pandering a little) to his game.


Coming back, he returned to me to comment how strange it was that they had such a different attitude with him. I told him that I had my creepy old personal massage guy, so he could take the gigglers. He agreed, we both won that night.

I know a lot of people might not be quite so amused with Hot Bartender’s compulsive flirting. However, this is one of the reasons I think we would work well together. I’ve never really been a jealous type of person and flirting has never bothered me. I think it’s natural and I wouldn’t dole out a hardcore shutdown of all he’s ever known if we dated. As long as it stayed at flirting I think I would be fine with it.

This is not to say that I’m criticizing people who prohibit partners flirting, but that for me, it isn’t a problem. To each their own I think!

And I’m pretty sure that my blasé attitude towards flirting is probably due to my father. My father is a lot like a modern day Henry VIII.

He’s on marriage number four. Had two daughters and couldn’t have a son—although he’s got one now through marriage. And is a compulsive cheater.


He has a routine, a very predictable routine, for his affairs. He’s done it since I can remember. It’s all very precise and regimented. Once he’s geared up for an affair and has a woman in mind, he’ll join a male softball league. He’ll go to all the practices (really go), but on the practice before their first game, he becomes “injured.” Unable to play for the season, he still goes to support his team (note he’s not going to wear the uniform because he won’t be playing), but no, he doesn’t need anyone to go with him because there’s no point, he’s not going to be out on the field. And the affair typically lasts the season. Every Tuesday and Thursday.


I know people say they marry their fathers, but I am saying that is NOT going to be me. I simply think that I can tolerate flirting and am experienced enough to know the trouble signs, to know if it is really harmless or not, and to not feel threatened or jealous by something that isn’t a real threat.

So Hot Bartender’s flirting is amusing and I’ve been doing a little of my own lately. I also now feel the need to point out that Hot Bartender is NOTHING like my father. He actually likes to talk, acknowledges my existence, and is witty. I enjoy being with him. Totally opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of personality.


In other news, I have been completely unable to find a dress for the wedding yet. I was in a few stores feeling like a slightly altered version of Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. I have all this money to spend and can’t find a dress to spend it on! So I’m headed to Nordstrom’s on Saturday for an appointment with a personal shopper. I’ve never tried this before, but I’m willing to give it a shot. So I’ll let you guys know how it goes next week! I’m hoping I’ll get the Bridget experience where she finds the gorgeous black cocktail dress! Of course, later on I wouldn’t mind the pizza treatment and complete wardrobe overhaul … but one step at a time, folks! 🙂




The Submissive and the Saint


So I had a thought about something else that struck me in my interactions with Hot Bartender. I was training a new server and playfully threatened Todd (another bartender who is moving in a week to Idaho). Hot Bartender assured Lisa, the trainee, that she shouldn’t be worried because I wouldn’t do anything. I laughed in disbelief and gave him a look. He made eye contact and smiled.

“Andie’s a submissive.”

And yeah, it kind of shocked me. I mean, I know that I am not particularly aggressive about some things, but … a submissive?

And yeah, it came out slightly sexually suggestive and that also made me flustered.

I tried to recover quickly and tossed him a dirty look.

Really?” I challenged, maintaining eye contact. He held the cheeky grin.

I continued. “I mean, come on, I can dish out some really great revenges.”

Todd interjected the tension and told Lisa, “Yeah, when she told me about the one time she waited five years to get revenge on a guy—that was the first time I was ever afraid of Andie.”

Hot Bartender conceded reluctantly, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Todd you’ll probably be in Idaho ten years later and something is going to happen and you’ll be like “Andie!” He laughed. He turned to me. “Yeah, I guess you can be scary, but you’re still a submissive,” he tossed out with a wink.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about this. In terms of dominancy, sure, I like a guy who takes control to a point. But I don’t feel as though I’m a submissive. I avoid drama and confrontations if I can. But I am headstrong and independent. I just choose to be nice most of the time. And if that translates into being a saint—I’m afraid I’m far from that …


I don’t think I want to be classified as some sort of weak person or madonna either.

And the whole conversation, was he seeing it as a flaw?? It was just so out of nowhere, I was shocked to hear it and have yet to identity what’s going on in my own mind.

Regardless, there was definitely some sort of dynamic tension going on.

Hot Bartender enjoys a challenge and I would like to think I challenge him often. Maybe I need to step up my game . . .