Now at this point it might seem pointless that I skip past the initial seeing each other and making sure that the picture in the profile is the same person and that is indeed who you are sitting next to. There were no surprises for wither one of us.
We drive around the corner which I find pointless but ok I’ll go along with it. We get to the bar and start drinking and talking. To be honest I don’t remember most of the conversation up until the next bit of information. He went on about how he was on Oprah, blah, blah, blah. That doesn’t really impress me. Then he goes into my whole reality TV obsession and he says that he dated a woman on a reality TV show, which took place in Chicago. Its time for another OH SHIT! YOU WERE ON STARTING OVER! (Trying not to scream it) OH SHIT! Christine! That’s you! Charlie! He promptly lets me know that I and about two other people in Chicago have ever seen the show (yeah, tell me something that I don’t know).
At this point I am speechless and have to keep reminding myself every 30 seconds not to fall off of the bar stool, when my 2 gin and tonics now feel like 5 and oh shit! I have a buzz! All I can think is just my fuckin’ luck. Only me! All the damn single men and women in Chicago and I end up with you.
So after I collect myself (honestly that took another 2 days to get over). We walk out and I would much rather walk home, because I always seem to get myself into trouble when an evening is coming to an end. But no, Charlie must drive me home. Here I am sitting in his car, shooting the shit. I try numerous times to just say goodnight. At this point he’s having one of those inner male debates on whether or not he should kiss me and frankly I have better things to do. Finally he kisses me. ‘Ok’, I think, we can do this. So I think we spend the next 20 minutes in his car making out. I have to keep telling myself this is as far as this is going to go. There is no way you are getting inside my apartment let alone my pants.
Weak, weak me. Next thing I know we are on my bed. I have to keep telling him that my pants are staying on and so are his.
At this point I need to start lying to myself. Who am I kidding? I always get what I want and at the moment I wanted Charlie. Now for the most part clothes did stay on that night, but there was still some mutual pleasure exchanged.
After he left I felt like a complete fool. To begin with this is the first man that I ever let in my bed in a very long time. I have to have at least one sacred place in the world and that was it. Not to mention I let myself go somewhere it shouldn’t have gone. Some how I let him grab a piece of my heart as he walked out my front door.
I wish that night would have been the last of Charlie….
We drive around the corner which I find pointless but ok I’ll go along with it. We get to the bar and start drinking and talking. To be honest I don’t remember most of the conversation up until the next bit of information. He went on about how he was on Oprah, blah, blah, blah. That doesn’t really impress me. Then he goes into my whole reality TV obsession and he says that he dated a woman on a reality TV show, which took place in Chicago. Its time for another OH SHIT! YOU WERE ON STARTING OVER! (Trying not to scream it) OH SHIT! Christine! That’s you! Charlie! He promptly lets me know that I and about two other people in Chicago have ever seen the show (yeah, tell me something that I don’t know).
At this point I am speechless and have to keep reminding myself every 30 seconds not to fall off of the bar stool, when my 2 gin and tonics now feel like 5 and oh shit! I have a buzz! All I can think is just my fuckin’ luck. Only me! All the damn single men and women in Chicago and I end up with you.
So after I collect myself (honestly that took another 2 days to get over). We walk out and I would much rather walk home, because I always seem to get myself into trouble when an evening is coming to an end. But no, Charlie must drive me home. Here I am sitting in his car, shooting the shit. I try numerous times to just say goodnight. At this point he’s having one of those inner male debates on whether or not he should kiss me and frankly I have better things to do. Finally he kisses me. ‘Ok’, I think, we can do this. So I think we spend the next 20 minutes in his car making out. I have to keep telling myself this is as far as this is going to go. There is no way you are getting inside my apartment let alone my pants.
Weak, weak me. Next thing I know we are on my bed. I have to keep telling him that my pants are staying on and so are his.
At this point I need to start lying to myself. Who am I kidding? I always get what I want and at the moment I wanted Charlie. Now for the most part clothes did stay on that night, but there was still some mutual pleasure exchanged.
After he left I felt like a complete fool. To begin with this is the first man that I ever let in my bed in a very long time. I have to have at least one sacred place in the world and that was it. Not to mention I let myself go somewhere it shouldn’t have gone. Some how I let him grab a piece of my heart as he walked out my front door.
I wish that night would have been the last of Charlie….
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