Chapter One

As I landed in Orange County on the 4th of July, after nearly a month of being gone or having company, I texted Zach* from Beer Olympics (as I had saved him in my phone) to see if he still wanted to go out. I half expected him to not even reply as he hadn't heard from me in several weeks; Not since our texting exchange about my severe dislike for LeBron James, and consequently the Miami Heat, during the final game of the NBA playoffs that I happened to be watching in an airport bar.

But he responded with an emphatic "Hells yes! What are you doing tonight?"  

I took this to mean that my three week absence had indeed made his heart grow founder. 

We decided to meet up on Friday at a restaurant across the street from my house that makes a pretty delicious bourbon cocktail. He clearly knows the way to a Kentucky Girl's heart. 

Zach worked late so he didn't get to my house until almost 9:00. 

This worked out for me though, because as usual I was running late as well. 

And completely freaking out over what to wear.

I texted Courtney and Allison no less than 15 times apiece asking if a sheer-ish top was too slutty for a first date?
Could I wear these pants with that top?
Or did the shorts look better?
Should I wear my hair up?
If I curled it would I be working too hard to look nice?
Wedges or heels?

The whole thing passed ridiculous like it was standing still about 5 texts in, and just became insane nonsense.

But the kind of insane nonsense you go through when there is a spark you never expected, and can't quite explain. 

The kind of spark that gives you hope that maybe, just maybe, this date won't force you to invent a roommate with a penchant for rear-ending people in order to escape. 

Looking back on that frenzied two hours of date prep time is kind of hilarious, because I couldn't even really remember what Zach looked like. Granted, when we met it was in a sparsely lit back yard, I'd made about 20 new friends that day who were all kind of blending together, and I might have been wearing beer goggles... 

So that isn't all too surprising that my memory was cloudy.

It is like the quote from Maya Angelou, "...people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." In this instance, I might also add, "People will also forget what you look like, except for your amazingly curly hair." Which was pretty much all that was set in stone about Zach.

So Zach arrives, and I thankfully I finally decided on what to wear, how to do my hair, and which purse to carry so he wasn't left standing outside my building for 20 minutes. If I still lived with 30 other women like I did in college this process might have gone quicker. At least I could have talked while I put in hair rollers about the pros and cons of each outfit. 

We strolled across the street to Chapter One and settled in with the beverage list.

"Have you had their Moscow Mule?" Zach asked?

"No. I always stick with bourbon. But it wouldn't kill me to branch out. Have you been here?"

"Yeah. A couple of times. The Moscow Mule is great." He replied.

Really... You come hang out in my neighborhood. That is a plus. Most people think this area is scary and full of hipsters so they avoid it. One point for having good taste in where you hang out!

As we waited for our drinks we chatted easily about Kentucky (he is planning a trip for September- WHAT?!?!), the UK Wildcats, work, families, little sisters and big sisters, the ridiculous fun of Beer Olympics, and loads of other stupid stuff that I'll never remember we even talked about on this date, but that meld together to become the bits and pieces of someone you know. 

When our conversation became a shouting match with the DJ, we headed back to my house for some moonshine. After all, that was what sparked our conversation at Beer Olympics. After an hour or so of drinking moonshine and playing earthquake with Sprinkles, my cat, Zach said he should leave so I could get some rest before my hike the next day. I walked him to the door, gave him a hug, and he kissed my cheek. 

Sigh... Perfect.

It was a great first date. 

*Zach used to be Mark in the blog, but due to an inside joke, I can't keep using the name Mark.

You just never know...

I was interested in Tony from the first time I read his profile. He was a runner, recent Ph. D. grad, and into hiking and travel, but the real attraction was that he said he was originally from Chicago, but had some Yinzer mixed in. 


Plus, his pictures were great! He looked, if not super hot, at least very nerdy cute.


For those of you who don't know, Yinzer is a slang term for people from Pittsburgh because they say "Yinz" all the time. As in "Yinz going to the Steelers' Game?" or "Yinz coming over for a Yuengling later?"

*Yeah* for a little more nerdy-Yinzer in my Cali life!


Given my love for the city with three rivers I had high hopes for this part-Yinzer date. 


We agreed to meet at a bar in my neighborhood around 9:00. As I walked down the steps to the bar, there standing at the bottom was a very awkward young man wearing the most unflattering pair of jeans I have seen on anyone not going to a costume party since 1994. It was the stone-washed, bagging at the top, tapered leg male version of the Mom jeans.


It. 
Was. 
Not Good.


At least we were in a dark bar where few people would see this wardrobe malfunction.
BUT, never being one to judge a book by its cover, I put on my best smile and said "Hi! Are you Tony?" After all, he could be really nice, funny, and have lots of amazing stories from all his recent traveling (he had just come back from San Francisco, Switzerland, Amsterdam, and Pittsburgh).


And then he started cackling. Like one of the hyenas from the Lion King. 
And then his eyes got the crazy stare.


Hmmmm... okay... Maybe he is just nervous. He does have a Ph. D. in some computer-sciency thing. He probably doesn't date alot. 

He managed to compose himself after a couple of deep breaths and said, yes in fact, he was Tony. 
We managed to make our way inside without anyone fainting from lack of oxygen. 
Since the place was pretty quite we just grabbed seats at the bar and ordered two beers.


Then things got more awkward.
"So how was all your traveling? Where all were you again?"
"Oh, I was in San Francisco and Pittsburgh for weddings." He said unleashing the hyenas again.
What is so funny about weddings? Did something funny happen at these weddings? If so, awesome! Tell me about it. I love to laugh. 
And if would fill this awkward silence. 
Alright. Drink a couple sips of beer. 
Yeah! 
Now this awkward silence has gone on even longer!
"That can be alot of fun!" I said searching for conversation. "I love Pittsburgh! I haven't been back since I moved and I miss it!"
"Yeah, its a great city. It wasn't what I expected at all when I moved there." He said staring at me unblinkingly.
He has not blinked in a really long time. Aren't his eyes drying out?
"Yeah, me neither. I never anticipated loving it as much as I did. I tell people out here how awesome it is and they don't believe me." I gushed.
"Yeah. I can see that." Tony replied, still without blinking and incorporating the hyena laugh. 
This time I was mildly worried he was going to laugh himself off the bar stool.
And then more silence. 
Grrrrrrrrreat.
"So what were you doing in Europe?" I asked.
"Part fun, part work. I was presenting a paper at a conference and then planned a few side trips too."
"That's great. What was your paper on?" I ask thinking surely this will get him chatting. All Ph.D.s I know can't shut up about what they are researching or working on. This should give us lots to talk about, as I do ask loads of questions.
"Well I do research on blabbity blah blah blah." Tony said
I won't bore you with the actual details, in an effort to keep you conscious, and keep me from getting angry hate mail from Tony. 
Or his mother, who might actually be able to get him to talk about this subject.
"Oh really? What does the research indicate?"
"That blabbity blah, blah, blah, blah...happens."
Really? A 7 word answer? Come on!
"That is interesting. What are the key indicators and things that you look for?" I asked.
Come on buddy! I'm only halfway through my beer! Give me something to work with...
"Blah. Blabbity. Blah." He said as he attempted to keep the hyenas from escaping for what seemed like the 210th time that evening.
Three words? Really? How is that possible?


And that is basically how the rest of the evening went. Me, pulling teeth trying to make conversation, until the roommate I don't have got into a car-wreck and I had to go help her.

Men: The Ultimate Renewable Resource

Some of you know that I am a Sustainability Manager. For those of you who don't actually know what that is, I basically try to make sure we don't euthanize ourselves by polluting the planet, using too much energy, and wasting natural resources.
Oh, and I save the organization I work for a bunch of money while I'm at it.

You could call me an Environmental Bad Ass, and that would be correct.

But seriously, I love my job more than anyone should love a job. Mondays are awesome (if I have kept the dating to a minimum, and the sleeping to a maximum). Oh who am I kidding! Even when I am exhausted from my fantastically frantic dating schedule I still love Monday!

Not least because the faculties management world is dominated by men.


In my particular office these men are roughly my father's age. 
But that's okay. 
I would never date someone I work with anyway. 
BUT being in this industry means I meet alot of men. The ones who are too old for me are trying to set me up with their sons, the ones my age that are taken are setting me up with their friends, and the single ones, well they are working over time to get my business. 


And when I go to conferences it just intensifies. It is like going to Man-land, my own personal version of Disneyland full of men who are both more age appropriate, and not someone I have to see every day when/if things go south. 


Just take a minute to imagine the rides at Criggerland... 


Looks pretty fun in your mind, right?
It will be 13X that much fun in real life.
Yes, 13, because that is my lucky number.

I'm quirky, but you guys already knew that.

The problem with meeting men at conferences is that they come from all over California, if not the whole country. And no matter how awesome they are, I am not going to jump into a long distance relationship with someone who lives in Northern California, let alone someone living in North Carolina.

But every now and then you get lucky and you meet someone who lives just a few towns over from you.
Who is tall.
Handsome.
Enjoys some good bourbon.
And is from the South.
With a proper Southern name.
Like Harrison. Or Joe Mitchell. Or Webb.

Webb and I met on a building tour that detailed the innovative and energy smart features of several buildings at the conference site. We had a mutual friend on the tour who introduced us. As we started chatting about water use issues and the need for more drought resistance landscaping (sexy, right?) I picked up a bit of an accent filtering through his very deep baritone voice.

"Are you from Tennessee or Kentucky?" Webb asked.
Obviously he picked up my accent. But then of course I am sure the hearing impaired can pick up my accent...
"Kentucky. Where are you from? There is something happening in there that is Southern." I said motioning to his mouth.
"Yeah. I'm from Georgia."
"I love Georgia. Especially Atlanta. I have family in Atlanta, so we went down pretty often."
"Yeah. Atlanta is pretty great. I am from Athens, but lived in Atlanta for awhile."

We continued to chat through out the tour about our respective jobs, the challenges of working within the sustainability profession, and what it is like living out here. After the 4 hour tour Webb gave me his card and told me to be sure to give him a call if I needed any LEED help, as that is his specialty. We said our goodbyes and I headed off to drag my luggage across campus to the residence halls.

Man I should have given him my card... Too bad I hadn't taken anything with me on the tour. Oh well. I am sure I will run into him again. This conference can't be that big.


That same evening as I was walking back to the dorms from the keynote address I hear quick footsteps coming up behind me. Being a single female walking on a sparsely lit campus, this made me nervous, regardless of the fact that there were plenty of people around who could have witnessed my mugging.

"Hey--"
"AHHHH!" I shreeked
"Oh geeze! I'm so sorry! I thought that was you. I didn't mean to scare you!" said Webb.
"It's okay. I am very jumpy. People at work hide and then jump out at me because they think it is hilarious."
"Are you walking back to the dorms?"
"Yep. Are you staying over there as well?"
"I am. Would you like some company?"
"Sure. Maybe you can keep me from jumping out of my skin when approached by another perfectly nice person."

Webb and I walked back to the dorms as we chatted easily about the keynote speaker and how we had good intentions of running the following morning but doubted we would make it out of bed in time.

The next morning as I headed across campus I kept my eyes peeled for Webb.
No such luck.
 As I settled into my seat at the first seminar, Webb walked in. Yeah!!!


"Good morning!" He said. "Is this seat taken?"
"What do you do? Just follow me around campus?" I asked moving my bag so he could sit down
"Yep. I saw you walking in here and thought, that girl knows what's up! I'll follow her lead."
Hmmmmm... I do like a man that knows a good thing when he sees it!

Webb and I spent the rest of the morning together and after lunch parted ways. I didn't see him for the rest of the day, but thought maybe our paths would cross at the awards dinner.
No such luck.
I was late to the dinner and he left early as I found out later.

 The next day I ran into Webb at lunch.
"Are you going to the farmer's market tonight?" He asked. "Apparently, they have delicious food and a live band."
"Absolutely. Two things I love are delicious food and live music."
"Great. Well I'll see you there then!" He said with a smile.


A few hours later as I was locking up my bike outside the square where the farmer's market was held, I received the following text. 
"Are you here? --Webb" 
I replied. "Just got here!" 
"Great. We have a table. I'll save you a seat."     


As I wound my way through the Farmer's Market, stopping to get myself a beer to help me cool down from my bike ride, I bumped into Webb.
"Hey! Let me introduce you to everyone!" He said leading me to his table.

Two beers in, I decided it was time for some food.
"That Indian smells delicious."
"Word on the street is that it's the best thing here." Webb said.
"Done! That's what I'll be having. I just need to run to the ATM. I spent my last $5 on beer."
"I'll buy your dinner." He said.
"Well, thank you. That's very nice of you." I said.
Yes, very nice. Very nice indeed.


Eventually the band quit playing. The Farmers packed up with markets. And the people in charge of putting away the tables and chairs shooed us out of their way.
"I'm not ready to call it a night yet. Anyone want to see if we can find some bourbon?"
Webb and Landon agreed that that sounded like a solid plan, so we said our goodbyes to the rest of the group and set off in search of a bar.


We found an Irish Bar with some Buffalo Trace Bourbon. And being the gracious southern lady, as well as bourbon evangelist that I am, I bought our first round.
And proceeded to thoroughly enjoy the "ooooos" and "aaahs" of my pleased drinkers.

As we shared funny stories I decided I liked Webb more and more.
And it wasn't just because I was home sick for a southern man, because that is what I chalked up the initial attraction to.
He is clever.
His dry sense of humor is hilarious.
He makes excellent eye contact.
He can laugh at himself.
He is established in a career.
And it doesn't hurt that he is H-O-T-T!

Eventually we decided to head out as we all had early mornings the next day. Webb had a 7:00 am flight, Landon an 8 hour car ride to look forward to, and myself a very early and long Energy Manager Meeting. Landon offered us rides, but I refused citing needing to get my bike back to campus. Being that it was after midnight, Webb offered to walk back with me. I of course refused saying I would be fine, knowing full well he thought I was cute, and wasn't going to let me go traipsing back to campus alone.

After we wondered the square looking for my bike (I wasn't drunk, but the square looks very different in the dark with no farmers) finding it exactly where I left it, in the last possible spot that it could have been, we started the trek back to campus.

As all walks of this sort go, it passed far to quickly. Before I knew it, we were back and I was chaining up my bike outside the dorm.

This was really starting to feel like college now...
We met in class, through a mutual friend.
Our paths occasionally crossed.
We walked back together from a bar.
Seems right on par with my college dates...

"Good luck making your flight tomorrow." I said.
"Yeah. Thanks. Good luck in your all day meeting." He said leaning down to hug me.
Did I mention he is tall?
"Thanks. I'll need it." I said, hugging him back.
"You know, I come to the beaches down in Orange County pretty often..."
"You should definitely let me know when you come to town... Night." I said reluctantly heading up the stairs.
"Night."

The following evening as I was waiting for my delayed flight in the airport, I got an email from Webb.

"It was really great to meet you. We'll have to get together soon. After all, we southerns have to stick together."
-- Webb

Yes. Yes, we do!

Lucky Charm

A few months ago I attended a Cinco de Mayo party hosted by a friend of a friend. I went to the party with Shane, the guy I met through the UK Alumni Association and had been seeing casually since March-ish. At the house next door to the party we were attending, another party was going on that looked like they were having more fun.

Or at least dancing to better music on their balcony.
With much cuter guys and a higher guy to girl ratio than our current situation.

The party I was at didn't even have a balcony and was too full of hipsters to have anyone busting out any good Gaga, Katie, or Brittney that we could dance to.

So what's a girl to do but grab a few friends and crash the good dance party next door?
Which is exactly what this girl did.
BOOM!

"Hi!" I said stepping through the deck door. "I'm Crigger. We were at the party next door, but you guys have way better music and seem to be having a bit more fun. Can we join your dance party?"
"Of course! Come on in!" said the tall Italian looking guy whose name I didn't bother to learn.
"Yeah! More dancers!" Said his blonde bikini clad friend, who I had worried earlier might be in danger of flinging herself off the balcony thanks to her energetic head-banging moves.

As my friends blended into the new party I struck up a conversation with Stephen, whose straight white teeth and muscly arms made me want to talk to him all night.

"Will you play some Lady Gaga next since you seem to be in charge of the jams?"
"Sure. What Gaga do you want?" Stephen asked.
"Any is okay! But I am partial to Poker Face. It made me love her and it is still my favorite."
"Poker Face it is then. What's your name by the way?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Crigger. AKA the party crasher."
"Well you are certainly welcome to crash this party." He said with a smile. "Actually. Have we met before? You look so familiar."
"I doubt it. I live in Orange county and I haven't spent alot of time in Manhattan Beach."
"No. We met. In a bar in Venice Beach. I swear we did. Like early last fall. I think we even became Facebook Friends."
"Ummm... I am pretty sure we didn't. I've only been out in Venice a few times. And those times I was with my ex-boyfriend. But he did get mad at me for flirting alot. So maybe we did meet! You might have been the reason for one of our many altercations about my "flirty-ness", which I prefer to think of as friendliness."

We chatted a bit more and then I returned to dancing with my friends, including Shane. As it got later my friends decided they were ready to head to the bars. But before we left we all decided to take a courtesy pee since you never know how the bathrooms in bars will be. Granted we were at a house occupied by three guys who had thrown a rager so their bathrooms probably weren't any better than what awaited us at the bars...

Anyway... as I stood in line talking to Shane waiting for the bathroom to be free, Stephen came down the hallway.

"What is this? A schedule of house chores?" I asked pointing to the marker board hanging on the wall with days of the weeks and things like "laundry", "clean the kitchen", and "grocery shop" listed beside the boys names.
"Basically. It keeps us organized."
"Well that's good. Bathroom is free. You're up Shane." I said.
"I'm off to find my roommate. See you in a bit." Stephen said.
"Bye."

Standing in the hallway by myself I decided to leave our hosts a note on their marker board. First I drew a picture of a hammock hanging between two palm trees and then I wrote a quick note.
Thanks for letting us crash your party. Call me. 555-555-5555. Crigger.

"Are you ready?" Asked Shane.
"Yep!" I said standing in front of the board an motioning for him to go through the doorway first. "Let's go say goodbye to the hosts."

As I was walking out the door Stephen ran up and grabbed my hand.
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah. My friends are ready to go, so I'm going too." I said.
"But I haven't even asked for your number yet."
"You don't have to. I left it on the marker board for you. Give me a call. Maybe we can go out sometime."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Fast Forward 2 Months to Beer Olympics~~~~~~~~~~~~
My friend Allison and I got roped into participating in a Beer Olympics party at another friend's house. And when I say roped, what I mean is freely and gladly participated. However, our team was one man short. I happened to mention this fact to Shane in a random email and before I knew it, he was volunteering to be our 4th man.

Or as he called it, the anchor, for our Beer Olympics team. And lord knows we needed all the help we could get because there were six events and 3 of then I had never heard of...

This did not bode well for us.

As mixed as my feelings were about Shane coming to a party with me, we needed a fourth, so I sent him the details and at 2:00 our anchor showed up. (Incidentally we came in 2nd, largely thanks to Sean. And of course, my mad flip cup skillz.)

Late into the evening when the competition had died down and we were just playing for fun I struck up a conversation with a guy wearing a "Getting lucky in Kentucky" shirt.

"Nice shirt. I have one of those." I said.
"Oh yeah? Did you get it in Kentucky?" asked Zach.
"Of course. Don't you hear my accent? That's my home state." I said proudly.
"I've always wanted to marry a Southern woman."
"Well we are the best."

As Zach and I continued to talk about Kentucky, bourbon, work, and moving to California I realized I had laid my phone down somewhere and it was no longer in my pocket. Panicking slightly I asked Zach if he would call it for me.
"Sure. What's the number?" He asked pulling out his phone.
"555-555-5555."
"It's ringing."

Rah-Rah-ah-ah-ah

Roma-Roma-mama

Ga-ga-o-la-la

Want your romance

I want your ug--

Abrupt change to StarShips by Nicki Manaj

"Found it! I totally forgot that we were using my phone to play music... Whooops." I said somewhat sheepishly. 

Zach and I talked a bit more then I headed out front to find Allison and some of the other girls, while he and his friends headed out for the bars. As we were sitting in a circle on the drive way gossiping and recapping the evening, Sean came out and sat down with us. Just about the time he sat down my phone lit up with a text message from a number that wasn't programmed into my phone.

"Crigger. 

Save my number por favor.

If things don't end up working w/ your current situation, 

would be honored to take you out sometime."

Ahhh... Zach. He has my number from when he was helping me locate my phone. 

Hmmmm... current situation? Does he think Sean and I are a couple? Because we are NOT!

"It's not really a current situation.
And you should definitely ask me out sometime." I texted back.

"All right.
I'll call you tomorrow and do it all proper.
Enjoy the rest of your evening."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~RECAP~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zach did call the next day. I love a man that calls when he says he will. Though it took three weeks for me to actually have time to go on a date, we have been on two great dates and I am looking forward to more.

Stephen has also attempted to take me out, but our schedules never line up. Plus, Manhattan Beach is farther away than I am really willing to commute to see a boy.

Shane has been sent back to the minor leagues, though he might get pulled up again if I go through a dating dry spell. He is proving to be quite lucky! Every time I go to a party with him I end up picking up another guy.

Skip. Skip. Skip to Malou...

The message I received from Damon on OKC was intriguing. 

It said he was thinking about making a move to the OC and had been spending some time in the area working on a business deal and trying to figure out if he actually wanted to move. He wondered if I might be interested in getting together for a drink so he could pick my brain about what living the OC is like.

His profile was interesting. It claimed he likes sending flowers for no reason, can parallel park a semi-truck, was 6'3, and was a "wine guy". 

I like receiving flowers for no reason.  

His dad was a truck driver so he probably is down to earth and truck driving is in my blood. My Papaw and Uncle both owned trucking companies and were drivers their whole lives.

Tall is good-- my children won't be getting their height from me.  

But a "wine guy"? 

Really? 

That sounds a bit pretentious and I just wasn't quite sure how much of that I could tolerate. 

However, he has been living in Nor-Cal for the last decade so it might not be so much pretentiousness as bi-product of living in the land of grapes. 

But he is 40-- A tad outside my age bracket.

Unable to decide, I let the email sit in my inbox for a few days unanswered. Finally reasoning that he seems successful, normal, and is staying in Laguna Beach so therefore would likely take me somewhere fancy and delicious, I decided to see if he was still interested in meeting.

He was.

We split the difference and met in Corona del Mar at a spot I had been wanting to check out for some time. In true Crigger fashion I was running late and traffic, of course, was not helping at all! Walking in about 15 minutes late I found Damen sitting at the bar.

"I'm sorry I am late." I say breathless from my quick scurry up the street from the parking spot that took me three trips around the block to find.

"No problem at all. If you weren't a little late I would worry you aren't really a female." He said with a smile. "I had a martini while I waited. What can I get you?"

"A bourbon please. Maker's 46 will do nicely." Nice teeth. Tall wasn't a lie. The pictures don't seem to be that recent... Oh well! We aren't getting married, we are getting drinks.

We chat as the bartender fixes him another martini and pours my Maker's 46 over the two ice cubes I requested.

"Have you seen the giant ice cube trays from IKEA?" Damen askes. "They are perfect for bourbon,whiskey, and scotch."

"No, I haven't. I should look for them the next time I'm there. I would put those to good use."

"They are great. I bought like 5 of them. I'll mail you one."

Hmmm.... That's nice but I don't want you having my address just yet.

"Oh! Well thanks! That's awfully nice. How is Orange country treating you?" I say changing the subject.

"Pretty good so far. I went on a cougar bar crawl last night with a few of the guys I am working on this deal with."

"What is a cougar bar crawl?"

"Basically we went to three bars and observed three different styles of cougars in their natural habitat."

"Oh my gosh! That is hilarious!"

"Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous." He said as he began detailing the different types of cougars at the various places. There was the Juicy Couture track suit crowd, the female version of Tommy Bahama crowd, and the crowd that was dressed about 25 years to young for their age.

"Well it sounds like you are getting a true picture of the OC. Lots of cougars with nothing better to do than take their fake breasts out to pick up young men. I used to go to this workout class and one day I looked around the room and realized I was the only one in the class with real boobs and without a giant diamond ring that made Kim Kardashian's ring look understated."

"Yeah your boobs aren't fake."

Hmmmm....

"Oh my gosh, I didn't mean that the way it came out." He continued. "I swear I'm not staring at your boobs. I just mean they look real. Oh geeze. This is not helping."

"Nope! It's not!" I say with a laugh. "Don't worry about it. I know what you mean-- I think."

As we continued to talk about the OC, work, how we ended up in California, wine (in a very unpretentious way) I decided I liked Damon’s company, despite his effeminate mannerisms. (At one point he sat up very straight, pressing his fingertips together and pursing his lips. I have seen my mother do this on countless occasions prior to launching into some story. I don't want to see that from my husband across the dinner table!)

Plus he is 40!

He would be 60 when our kids graduated from high school in a best case scenario situation.

He is nice and funny and certainly someone I would want to be friends with.

But that never happens in these situations. They never want to be "just friends".

It is either girlfriend or nothing.

Anyway, two drinks and two shared appetizers later I was ready to call it a night since I had been up since 5:00am to do the insanity workout and I had gone to yoga after work.

"I'll walk you to your car." said Damon.

"Thanks. I'm parked close. Just around the corner." I said handing him my purse as I pulled on my coat. "Thanks for holding that."

"You're welcome. I am secure enough in my manliness to hold a purse. Plus, it looks good with my outfit." He said with a chuckle.

"Well, yes! Kate Spade goes with everything." I said heading towards the door.

"Well this is me." I say unlocking my car door. "Thanks for drinks and dinner."

"Thanks for coming out and meeting me. I appreciate all the OC talk. Maybe we can do it again?"

"Yeah, just keep me posted about your schedule." I said knowing that I was booked for a few weeks solid with trips and visitors, so I would have legitimate excuses to get me out of future dates if I needed one.

"Well I had fun." He said leaning in for what I thought was a hug, but ended up being a kiss on the lips.

Not a bad kisser, but I don't want to be kissing him! What is wrong with dudes getting all handsy and kissy on the first date?! Oh well, guess I'll just go with it.

"Alright." I said kind of pushing him away. "Thanks again. Bye!" I wave getting in my car.

"Bye." he says shutting the door and turning to (I assume) walk across the street.

But no.

He skips away!

Hmmm.... interesting. Very interesting.