So this is a true story that has confused me for a while now and I thought it might be cathartic to write about it.

So I’m out one night in LA, I guess I would have to admit it was a club, although I would like to present it as more of a loungy (not a word, should be) club, but then I would really just be trying to come across as less of a dumbass and that’s not fair to you. So, I’m at some brutal club and this guy comes up to me. This guy is someone who had been asking me out for a while and basically throwing professional opportunities in my face to get me to spend time with him, but it hadn’t worked so far. Anyway, he’s not even important to the story. I only entertained a conversation with him because I was immediately into his friend. His friend was exactly my type to the naked eye. Looked like he didn’t want to be there, dark hair, disheveled enough, clean enough, dripping with sarcasm, and tattoos. Yeah, I’m aware of the cliche, I’m just being honest. I’m currently working on maturing my taste. So I lay my charm on thick, and to be honest I couldn’t even tell if it worked. He pretended to be unimpressed. I’m assuming this is where the game began. But I had no clue. He didn’t ask for my number, however, he was clearly just being a good friend and not cock blocking the dude I didn’t want to date. Imagine how many little soul mates have missed each other because of your dumb guy code? Us chicks will ditch anyone and anything for the possibility of love. I digress…

So I text the friend I don’t like the next day and basically say, “I like your friend. Be cool. Give him my number. You and me ain’t gonna happen”. I was surprised he was actually great about it. That’s the thing about guys.. they run after the tail so hard, but when they realize there’s no prize at the end they figure one of the boys might as well get a shot at it. I also got the dirt on my love interest. OF COURSE he’s in a band. Of COURSE he’s the lead singer. Of COURSE they’re the next big thing. I couldn’t have been walking into a more obvious trap. Just writing these words make me cringe. I want you to know that. I am embarrassed of myself.

Cliche rocker texts me the next day i think… maybe even the same day. I knew my shit had worked. I make great first impressions. There is no pressure in those moments, its where I really shine. So we set a date. Drinks at The Roger Room. I’m to meet him there when I’m finished babysitting my friend’s daughter for her. I mean, could I be cuter?! Babysitting for my friend? Okay, maybe I’m a little old to be babysitting, but I was proud of my little maternal Friday night plan.

When I show up he is standing outside. He’s even cuter than I remember. He has this smile that you just believe right away and you can picture him as a kid grinning all the time because he can’t help it. He tells me I look pretty and I believe him. The sarcasm is gone, he’s not trying to act uninterested anymore. We like each other. And I’m feeling confident because I went after him. I made the move. I reached out and asked him to like me back. It makes me feel powerful, like I didn’t have to wait for him to set the tone, I’m a strong girl who knows what she wants (not at all, not in the slightest, but in this moment that’s how I felt).

We make our way inside, find a dark booth in the corner and order two beers..