From semi-sophisticated chats with men over fine glasses of Merlot and a snifters of bourbon, to kamikaze shots and kissing random 23-year-olds on the streets of PB (Pacific Beach for you out of towners)....my range of single activity over the past week has been wide to say the least.
I'd like to think that yesterday was my well-earned "vacation" from being a single 34 year old woman looking for a man to settle down with. Instead I voluntarily regressed to being the bold, 20 something I never was. Damn it was fun.
And it was for charity, I swear. A charity pub crawl with a line-up of cover bands (the Cure, U2, and everyone's favorite, a female AC/DC band), drink specials and the streets of PB crawling with drunk people on the prowl and wearing matching t-shirts.
The only way I could possibly enjoy the entire experience was because it was only a brief sojourn from my real life. God help me if I had to do that more than once every five years. And since I would rather kill myself than be almost 40 and pawing some hot guy's tattoos at an outdoor afternoon concert, this was likely my last hurrah.
It felt terrific to go back to my 20s and actually know what the hell I was doing. Back then I was convinced no guy would ever notice me and, if he did, I had no clue what to do from there. Not anymore. I could walk up to any good looking, punk-ass kid (about 95% of the crowd yesterday) and start flirting, knowing exactly what I was doing every step of the way.
Don't worry, I'm not an idiot. I didn't actually do anything with these guys. OK, one 2 second kiss with some little hottie who rode past me on bike. Don't ask me how, but in that brief stop at an intersection I managed to find out he was Jewish and before I knew it we were kissing. Then I literally patted him on his ass and pushed him along his merry way.Other than that, I had no intention of acting on these flirtations. I was merely enjoying my vacation.
Plus I kept thinking about the date I have tonight with Wine Guy, who had called me on my way out to my afternoon of debauchery to confirm a place and time and to ask me if sushi was acceptable for dinner. Well of course it is! One of the only bonuses from the tortures of dating is the good sushi, a meal I rarely treat myself to. So he scored some major points there.
So no matter how inappropriate things could have gotten yesterday while I downed Captain Morgan and Coke from my Big Gulp container and made harmless passes at every hot guy that caught my eye, I kept Wine Guy in the back of my mind. Reality awaited me the next day and, to be honest, by the time my "vacation" came to a close last night, I was more than happy to go back to it.
I just wish the local news cameras weren't there to capture my vacation for broadcast on last night's 10pm news. I've already heard from two people who saw me screaming my head off at the camera during the U2 cover band concert. Did there have to be proof?!
I meet Wine Guy in a few hours and will dutifully report back. God help me if he watches the local news.