My Flirting Group.
A huge networking event
A new writers group “sit down and write” meeting (which obviously I need)
The FED – Swing Dancing
Let’s not even mention all the friend’s happy hour invites, movie invites, and other more extraneous activities. Though I suppose the FED is kinda extraneous, but I kinda absentmindedly insinuated that I’d show up this week.
I needed to go to the top 3 events. I only actually made it to two, and even that was crazy. I went to the flirting group mostly because I wanted to reconnect with the organizer for it. One day he’s going to be a multi-millionaire, and I’ll probably still need a job. Plus we both kinda love behavioral sciences. If it was legal/possible to stick humans in jars and watch what they did… we’d be doing it… though neither of us is really a scientist. We’re just both kinda crazy.. in mostly good ways (depending on who you talk to.)
Anyway, I arrive at the Flirting group and I get to talk to the organizer a bit. He’s been trying to reconnect with me (professionally – networking.. the guy is a newly wed), so we got a good chat in while everyone else did the flirting exercises. I thought about staying and flirting myself, but honestly looking at the men present.. I figured I’d have better luck next door at the networking event. (aka out of the 3 guys that showed up, only one of them was .. er.. acceptable appearance-wise, and he seemed about as into me as day old fish.)
However, my organizer friend did mention some kind of millionaires group in town that throws parties. Evidently its 4 men to every women, and he said I’d “clean up” there and that it’d be like shooting fish in a barrel. So I’ll be looking out for those. 😉 I mean.. millionaires for the taking? Who wouldn’t?
Then I headed over to my networking party. I walk in. Anxiety. Its wall to wall people and there’s a line to get in. They’re doing nametags, AND the people at the nametag table are writing out the name tags for the people. Meaning EVERY SINGLE PERSON is attempting to spell out their name for the person writing the name down. WTF?
This is not how these events normally go.. so when I got to the table and the girl asked my name.. pen ready to write out my name tag.. I kinda went a little nutz (inside, I tried to hide it). I felt like I was 2 and couldn’t write my name myself, so this nice lady had to do it for me. If I could have grabbed the damn nametag from her and written it myself I would have. Instead, I asked nicely if I could write it. She balked a bit, but handed me the nametag while telling me that the person next to her needed to also know my name to write it on the sign-in sheet. I had this strange creepy sensation as if I was suddenly not at a networking event but at some kind of military camp with alcohol.
I shook it off, and ran to find people I knew. It wasn’t too hard as about every 5 steps I ran into someone I knew from some place or another. Said hi in my awkward.. “I have nothing interesting to say” way, and yet somehow found something to say anyway. Hopefully it was interesting whatever it was I did say, though I fear it was not.
I had a good time though.. flirting with very happily married male friends.. and attempting to find an attractive looking single male. Which for some reason is getting harder and harder at these events, as every good looking man at these events it seems is gay. Seriously. I’m not joking.
It is not fair. Brainy. Fun. Great personality. And f’n hot? Sorry but I’m quite sure that’s illegal.
Anyway, towards the end of the night, I found him again (I’d done some mingling and came back) and we chatted for a while. He excused himself to use the facilities, said he’d be right back.. in a way that made it sound like he was reassuring me (soo not a good sign).. only never to return. I did see him come out of the restroom, and look in my direction.. but he didn’t come over.
I found myself exhausted by that point anyway.. too much social time and too little food. I’d kinda forgotten to eat all day until right before I had to leave, in which I didn’t really have time to eat then. So I headed home to make myself a big assed plate of food.
On my way to my car though, I pass by Katz Diner. Suddenly I hear thudding on the window of the diner and two guys looking at me and waving exstaticly for me to come in. WTF? I went in.. mostly out of curiousity about what drugs these guys were on.. but partly because I vaguely recognized one of the guy’s faces. They were both brown skinned and looked Indian.
What is with me attracting Indians?? Please someone tell me?
So I walk in. The host says, “Table for one?” and starts to grab a menu when I interupt him.
“No no.. I believe I was summoned by some strange guys that I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll be right back.” And I head into the dining room.
The host looks at me with “Oh thats what they were doing” relief and a bit of a “good luck” smile.
The one whose face I vague recall seeing before looks offended. The other guy is quick to invite me to sit down and introduces himself. For an Indian guy btw, the second guy is hot. He even had longish hair which I normally find revolting but on him it was fantastic.
Evidently, I’d met the first guy at one of the networking parties. Which one? I don’t recall. This is how long Indian men stay on my radar.. blip.. gone.
The guys are nice and welcoming. They try to convince me to stay and eat with them. They’re uber-sweet.. the creepy too sweet thing that it seems only Indian men can do really well to make you feel comfortable.. and yet those experienced with Indian men know that behind all that niceness is a very persistant “come home and fuck me”. Both of them were fresh off the boat Indians, and since I had no intention of going home and fucking either one of them.. I left.
It was a funny picture though… two strange men excitedly pounding a window as I walked by in order to catch my attention.. Flattering.
Unfortunately that never happens with men I actually like.