I’ve Been Thinking About My Doorbell, When You Gonna Ring It?

If you haven’t read Saturday’s post with my confession, please do that before reading this one – it will make more sense.

My favorite, and most delicious of all bartenders has been trying to comment on this blog. For whatever the reason (drunkeness?) he is unable to get a comment to post. How’s that for irony? You, my friend, shall remain without your voice! HA! It’s fine. Good looking men should be seen and not heard anyway. Ok, kidding.

I’m notorious for having conclusions and realizations after the event has occured. Often I lay in bed at night and think of things that happened that day and find clarity, or solve problems in some way. It’s my nature. Today, I have had a few of those thoughts regarding Saturday’s date. Here we go.

I find it absolutely endearing that The Bartender found my blog online without any clues from me about it’s site name or address, and that he read through the past few months.

I find it absolutely endearing that he slowly let the cat out of the bag that he had actually read as much as he did. Most men would be afraid to admit that they have any tiny miniscule interest in your life. Apparently not my Bartender.

I find it absolutely endearing that when we met at 14th & U yesterday and I asked him where he wanted to eat, he immediately knew. I’m a sucker for a man with a plan. (The wishy-washy ones need to be slapped, very hard.)

I find it absolutely endearing that he sat across from me at lunch and said, “Damn, I just told you two of the three stories I had planned for today.” I asked him to clarify. He said, “On my walk here, I planned out three stories that I wanted to tell you. I already told you two and we haven’t even gotten to the zoo yet.” How cute is that? I wanted to jump on him from my side of the table.

I also find it absolutely endearing that he sent me this text message last night at 3:13 a.m.: “I’m right outside your door if you want more.”

I don’t find this next text message about his posting a comment to the blog as much endearing as I do positively titillating: “You don’t want to know what I have to say cause you drive me wild and I’ll have too many lewd innuendos.” Excuse me for a second…..ok. I’m back.

Normally I’m incredibly passive in a budding “relationship” of any sort. I sit back and try to take it all in and figure out where I stand and such. There is none of that here. I feel like I’m just throwing myself in, blogging like an ass, and it’s a damn lot of fun. It’s got a youthful, playful feeling to it. Similar to that feeling of “neighbor knocking” as we called it, in the college dorms.

Finally, I’m not sure what the dating life brings in the next few weeks, as I have been having email exchanges with a few different people for a while now, all generated from this past foray into the online world. I feel that I owe it to myself and the blog to go on those dates when they present themself. This puts me in the supremely awkward position of my favorite bartender reading about other dates. Is that bad? Should I be concentrating on one thing at a time?

I have never overtly discussed sex on this blog. I just don’t think it has a place here. Time for a disclaimer. Velvet has never in her entire life maintained sexual relationships with more than one man at a time. This has been and will always be my rule. It’s not really even a rule – it’s just something I can’t do. It’s where I draw the moral line. I know, I know, make your jokes. It’s only four years difference but I already feel like it’s a Stiffler’s Mom & Finch scenario of sorts.

Soon, I will be ready to answer the question he asked in a 3:37 a.m. text message which was, “When will I ever get to have you?”

Soon.