Saw Movies and Fifty Shades of Sexting


So, when last we left off, Coach Taylor had disappeared, Tall Paul was on the missing hikers bulletin, and I was sort of considering picking things up with the Bartender. It’s only fitting to start with the most shocking of all.



That’s correct folks, Tall Paul is indeed alive and survived his mountain camping excursion. I received a messaged from him on Thursday morning (the first activity on his account since Friday), saying “Well that ended up taking longer than expected.”


Tall Paul, it appears, really was still away in the mountains, and though not eaten by a bear, it appears his extreme date with nature ran over (whether by getting lost or his own decision we may never truly know).

Even more surprising is the fact that he messaged me back. So we will see how things develop with Tall Paul. I just find it amazing the dead-eyed survivor made it back safe and sound … and wasn’t just blowing me off.

It’s the little things … 🙂

Now, on to the next order of business … my unfortunate dealings with Coach Taylor. Just like that wild dog that doesn’t seem to want to stay but keeps showing up for treats from time to time, Coach Taylor has once again returned.

It all started on Thursday when my roommate posted a picture of us getting ready to go out drinking. Within three seconds, she calls out from the bathroom to ask me what Coach Taylor’s name was again …. Because he had liked the photo within three seconds. Therefore, I wasn’t entirely surprised that moments later I receive a text from him for the first time in a week.

Of course NOT being a glutton for punishment, I didn’t text him back. I know instinctively that there’s just something about this wild canine that would not make a good companion.


Seven shots later we were texting. And he was asking me if he had mentioned how pretty I was, to which I responded (I’m afraid with alcoholic cattiness) ‘you did cover that.’ He also mentioned that I was delicious. Not really sure how he would know that considering we have most certainly never made out …

But in the end, all of this led to last night’s conversation which I am transcribing for you. I’m not sure there’s any other way to convey this….

Him: So can i tell you something without you being offended … I feel like I need to tell you … You were in my dream the other night …

Me: Haha … um … okay?

Him: I had a sex dream … I’m sorry if this offends you

Me: Haha had to get that off your chest and confess? These things happen ..

Him: Yes … lol ok i thought you were gonna get mad …

Me: I have amazing zen

Him: Yeah I agree, can see that for sure!

Me: That being said of course, I might have shown concern if you had said ‘Hey I had a dream about that movie Saw … and you were in it … and I was jigsaw’


Him: Lol I’ve never seen those movies and I don’t want to

Me: I’m saying that would have been more concerning …

Him: Lol yeah … But I saw 50 shades of grey and then dreamed about you instead


Me: I have seen that one …

Him: Well it wasn’t anything crazy like that

Me: ….

I think he was partially wondering if I would think he was a creep or if I would be turned on and because of my neutral response he has seemed confused ever since. I do feel slightly creeped out, and slightly flattered. This is the first time someone has felt the need to confess for having lustful thoughts about me …

So I don’t know what to think about Coach Taylor. Except, just like that wild dog … I don’t think that I could ever really trust him to stay….



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.



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 . . .


The Fairytale and the Friendzone


Okay, so as per my promise to myself, I decided Sunday would be the day. That was the day that I would ask Hot Bartender to go to a wedding with me. I spent all week preparing for this … and freaking myself out mostly. What can I say? I couldn’t help it!

Some more backstory on why I thought this was a good idea when my friends attempted to dissuade me. Basically, with a few exceptions, many thought he would turn me down and didn’t want me to be disappointed. Now, I know they did this out of the goodness of their hearts, but I would have liked for a  majority vote of “Go for it!”

I guess I was the main person driving me for once. The reason for thinking there was even a one percent chance he would say yes? It was surprising to think about it altogether, but really, we are good friends. We have funny inside jokes … bits we always do together … small moments that just make me smile. Like when I was doing a birthday announcement in the restaurant and I looked across the room and he was leaning against the pop machine negligently, watching me and motioned his hand higher pretending he couldn’t hear me. I laughed, breaking the announcement slightly and then he gave me the thumbs up, happy he’d succeeded in distracting me. Devilish moments, but some of my favorites …

So I knew I had to ask him. This has been in the back of my mind since New Years, but if you haven’t been able to tell, lately I’ve been doing some brash, bold things. Totally unlike me.


The morning before my shift, I did my hair and makeup while watching episode after episode of MTV’s Friendzone. It was really very motivating! I love that show. The rejections balanced out the accepted dates and it kept me balanced. I waited for the opportune moment, He was alone behind the bar, no customers and I walked up, and leaned on the counter and while my heart stopped, I got it out.

“So … I’ve got a proposition for you.” He quirked an eyebrow and asked what it was.

I told him how my old telemarketing boss was getting married and though it would be a fun time with a lot of alcohol (I really tried to hype this part up), that I wouldn’t know anyone there, and that I KNEW he really wanted to go as my Plus One with me.

He finished uncorking the wine bottle and asked when it was. After I told him, he said, “Sure, that sounds good. I should be able to do that.”

I wasn’t quite sure I had heard him. This was one of these things where you want to hear it so much, you’re really afraid that you just imposed the answer you wanted to hear and they actually said sorry I can’t.

So in the interest of not sounding crazy (and possibly then sounding crazy….) I asked him if he was sure and he responded in the affirmative yet again. This time I knew it was no illusion. So I told him I’d put us off in the book if he was sure (and unfortunately I realize this was me, double checking again because I simply could not believe it) and he smiled.

“Yeah, put me down, I’ll go.”

Those words, while they weren’t declarations of love, were a doorway to my shot. I know I’ve purposely put myself in the friendzone with him. But we need that boost to get out of it. I feel like the wedding’s my shot. My one chance to show him how good we could be together. It’s my interview and I don’t want to blow it …

I didn’t tell him that it was a two hour drive. He didn’t ask and I didn’t offer. It’ll be a surprise (I keep telling myself with a cringe). But honestly, I didn’t want to push my luck too far!

So I put us down in the book, bribing my manager with my best pen to solidify our time off. It was worth it.

Before leaving, I caught Hot Bartender and told him that I had put us down in the books and that he needed to let me know in plenty of time if he couldn’t make it so I would have a lot of time to plan some great revenge. Really painful, I assured him. He thought it was hysterical and kept laughing even as I left the restaurant. He always jokes that he’s afraid of my revenges … they always are creative and devious 🙂

Now I just have to wait until Memorial Day. I’m on the countdown and hopefully it all goes as planned because I have some really great plans…

I’m so happy it’s almost debilitating. The fantasies really need to get under control. But really, I just can’t believe it—he said yes! This isn’t a Cinderella story, but I feel like I can go looking for some really awesome shoes–hopefully I won’t have to lose one so I can see him after the wedding!


Christian Louboutin is the obvious choice for my impossible dream shoes 🙂


Eating Baby Carrots for Love and I Didn’t Even Get Good Vision …

Well, I’ve come to a decision. I like Hot Bartender. A lot. He’s got abnormally sharp canine teeth (top AND bottom people) and I am obsessed with them. (I maybe stare at them when he talks.) Don’t get me wrong—while I’ll read a good paranormal romance, I do NOT fantasize about landing a vampire—or a werewolf. No, I definitely do not want anyone to drink my blood … but I have included the occasional love nip fantasy staring my favorite bartender. Premature to call him mine? Yes. Foolish. Again, yes. It is probably not the best idea to start getting cocky now.

But I wouldn’t say the place I’m in is cocky. Instead, I would say active, aggressive. For 23 years I have sat back and waited for Prince Charming and he has blown me off one too many times. So instead, I’m taking the reins in my own hands and shooting for what I want.

So yeah, you probably guessed that I’m going to ask Hot Bartender to come with me to the wedding. And timid, mousey me might have balked when I found out it would be a two hour trip there—asking too much! But this aggressive me is dismissing that. If he says no he says no, but people travel to go to weddings all the time. And I’ve decided I won’t be awkward about it. The next time we’re alone, I’m going to pop the question casually and gauge his reaction. And if he turns down free alcohol and a party because of having to spend time with me … or be at a wedding—well then, I have a backup plan to eliminate any future awkwardness as well.

This new me is scary and quite heady.

I have been so controlled by my fear of what may happen that I finally see it doesn’t matter as long as I don’t give it power. And I’m not going to.

You see, I did give in to it once and I feel like life has come full circle.

The day of this wedding will mark exactly ten years since I last put myself out there, completely, for a guy.
From the first grade, I knew I liked him. He was cute and had ginger hair and masses of freckles. Alas, I cannot help my seven-year-old taste. My sister called him Carrot Top and while some may find that name offensive (as surely my sixteen-year-old sister meant it) I always savored it fondly. In fact, I took it to the next level, eating baby carrots for snacks, sides, breakfast. I just wanted to be closer to my gangly, sharp featured seatmate.

For years I was a casual friend and loved him from afar and finally it was the sixth grade, the end of the year. Next year I knew we would be going to Jr. High. A part of the high school and he might be lost to me forever. I had nothing to suggest he returned my feelings, but I was young and thought my crush unsinkable.

Our elementary schools would combine, and in anticipation of the event, we would go to a camp and celebrate on Memorial Day weekend with a camping trip and dance. I was nervous and plotted and schemed out the ask and one day I caught him getting his backpack in the cubby area all alone. Thirteen and fully equipped with every awkward stereotype associated with that tween age, I stumbled through an ask. Would he come to the dance with me? I’m sure it was far less smooth. But the point was delivered and he was very nice and kind as he explained his mom would be a chaperone and wouldn’t it be weird to go to a dance with a girl when his MOM would be there? Oh yes, I agreed, desperately trying to fight the deep red flush of shame filling my face. Totally I agreed, before I ran off.

I was devastated.

Now, of course, no parents were chaperones and he went with A, a girl who had been my friend for the past six years. A and I drifted apart after that—no major drama, but it was embarrassing to talk to the girlfriend of the guy I had crushed … who also knew every mortifying detail. I hope they didn’t laugh about it and to give him credit, we still speak as friends occasionally five years after our high school graduation.

But the ten year anniversary is looming and I realize it is ironic I have landed myself in this same situation. Now, I have only had the hots for Hot Bartender for a few months and we are all adults now and I’m not TECHNICALLY asking him for a date, but still, same scenario basically.

I have thought about this and while I was thinking that things would be different this time–he might say yes–I realized last night that it’s not really about his answer at all. Instead, it’s about what I do with that answer. Even if he says no, that doesn’t mean it has to be a repeat of history. This one won’t cripple me. I refuse to give anyone that kind of power over me that I don’t even have a relationship with for heaven’s sake!

So I’m going to ask him and he may well say no. But if that happens, this time I’ll hold onto my dignity and shake it off as the “not a big deal” it really is.

That being said, I really hope he says yes, because I think it’s time to shake my life up. And a certain bartender has a mean shake …