He Didn’t Need To Know I’d Blog About Him.

It was Thursday night.  All of my wildest dreams had come true and school was canceled due to the epic blizzard/clownfish Nemo. So, what do I do after my 9pm date?  Obviously meet Nina out for a few drinks.  She had just gotten off work and her coworker Allen was at the bar with her when I walked up.  We chatted for a bit and Allen ran to the bathroom before we left.  I quickly grabbed Nina’s arm and whispered, “I mean, Allen is not unattractive.  I wouldn’t say that I don’t like him…”  She smiled knowing what fanfare the night would probably entail.

Tiaras = Free Drinks

We all went to Sissy K’s for some college-style karaoke, dancing, and free drinks from the seven hundred men there.  Drinks were thrown at us, really.  A no-fail way to get free drinks:  Bring a tiara out.  Tell everyone it’s your 24^th birthday.  Bam.  Free drinks.  From everyone.  For you.  And your friends.  All night.  You win.

It was one of those nights.  We sang Ke$ha and Backstreet Boys into the microphones, danced the night away and yelled lyrics with absolutely no idea how to carry a tune.  We convinced one guy that we were all from Germany, and told another that we were siblings.  We may have gotten in a few minor fights on the dance floor when our tiara was stolen.

Allen brought up brewing his own beer, blogging about it, and making money off his blog.  After my first four free drinks, I didn’t hesitate to tell Allen about my own blog, hoping he would help me supplement my teaching income with blog income.  Big mistake.  What am I supposed to do now that a guy I like knows about this blog?  He’s reading this. Like, right now.  Shit.  I actually just had a conversation with my cousin Mori and her friend Hanna about telling guys about the blog.  We decided, OBVIOUSLY, that it was the worst idea.  Ever.  Reason 394 why I should stop drinking.

Anyway, it turned out that Allen liked me too.  He was terrible at pick up lines and had little to no game, but made it back to my place for an awesome evening of making out on my bed.  Best.  Thursday.  Ever.  And for the record… Allen hangs out with parrots, monkeys, and otters for a living (aka works at a zoo), may or may not play Dungeons and Dragons, loves to cook, is 26, knits winter hats, runs a 6 minute mile, and gives a great foot massage.  Solid.  Hopefully we go out again… and he doesn’t hold this post against me.