Friday, February 3, 2012

ManMe, aka, Just Stay Still (Part 2)

Read Part 1 to be caught up to speed! 

I texted ManMe after a really great evening and a not so great morning, which involved not one but THREE pizzas (2 from Ledos), because I wanted to celebrate the New Year properly.

I hadn't intended on texting him. I didn't know if I wanted to delve into the waters of a long distance... something. What would it be? I'm so notorious for trying to figure out what to label things. Not knowing bothers the shit out of me, and I wasn't looking for a relationship - who knows if he was.

And the whole morning/afternoon I had a hard time trying to ask the girls about what I should do, because his close friend was sitting in the living room with us, canoodling with Sam. So I couldn't really bust out and voice my concerns.

However his friend went ahead and voiced ManMe's concerns about how completely off-his-game he had been the night before, whether ManMe wanted him to or not. So I knew to a certain extent that I had been a huge bitch in denying him my number.

But all I could do was sit there and run-through the night repeatedly over and over in my head trying to figure out what was holding me back.

Something finally clicked in me, and I thought, what the hell. The worst that happens is he doesn't text me back. The double worst thing that happens is he doesn't text me back and tells Sam's BF horrible things about me that come back to bite me in the butt later, but he had already texted the BF and told him how off his "game" he had been the night before.

He responded to my text five-minutes later.

What happened next was a four week texting affair that never became too over/underwhelming, but was just the right amount of playful/flirty/funny/charming/intelligent/clever/awesome. He didn't text me every fricking day. He texted me when he had something the say and vice-versa.

I relished in the fact that I had gained a new friend.

He kept me posted on his return to DC for a friend's party, and when he left work to drive down he let me know. I harassed Sam to no end about the plans for the night trying to figure out when I'd get to see him again. I was giddy with excitement, yet anxious because what if all it was... was the alcohol.

And when the time came to interact with him in person again... I froze up.

We got to the house and Sam's BF walked us in, and ManMe came walking over to greet us. He gave Sam and I both a hug...

But, I became Farmer Brown (the lead) in the first grade play all over again, standing on the stage, poised to deliver the first line and desperately digging for something which had completely receded from my mind. As soon as we walked in the door, I stood there like a statue, my common courtesies no where to be found. I forgot to introduce myself to the people I didn't know. I forgot how to smile. I forgot how to talk. I forgot how to breathe.

To be honest, I don't even know if I gave him a hug. All I remember is that the first words that came erupting from my mouth like projectile word vomit were, "When did you get so frickin' tall?"

Not, "Hi."
Not, "How's it going?"
Not, "OMG So good to see you again."

I said, "when did you get so frickin' tall." Because nothing says I was too fucking drunk to remember giant details about you, like forgetting the fact someone towers over you. Literally I'm a head shorter than him... and I didn't remember that.

My jacket became an instant sauna and as soon as I took it off, I realized it wasn't the jacket. Sweat was pouring from any part of me which could have sweat pour.

The next 30/40 minutes were some of the most awkward minutes of my life.

After the pregaming, we bebopped over to the H St. Country Club for a round of drinks, normally this is where I should tell you about how we played a round of mini golf and had a brilliantly awesome time, but this is actually where I begged ItalianaDolce to save me from the awkward, because I think fur had actually started growing in my mouth. Every time I tried to speak the only words that came out were, "l;aksfiaguwn ajf;sits lsak siejnaks"

Nothing coherent was coming from my mouth. I know what it looked like. I know I looked like this crazy aloof drunk ass bitch, who didn't want to talk, but I couldn't phrase anything past, "when did you get so frickin' tall."

Before long the group decided to move, and I had to part from ItalianaDolce and her friend L, and I dreaded the moment of exiting the bar.

But... something changed in the period it took us to move from the Country Club, to the Biergartenhaus...
We walked out of the door, and ManMe swung his arm around my waist.

The adrenaline which had beer soaring through my system not moments before disappeared. Time slowed down, and I could breathe.

We got to the Biergartenhaus, who was out of EVERYTHING.

(Pic Found Here)

Literally they were missing five of their not so extensive list of draft beverages... four of the five were wheat beers, which I so desperately wanted to have dancing on my tongue. The only wheats they had left on the menu were beers so crowded with cloves I could barely stand to have them look at my tongue, much less slip by the tastebuds on the way to my gullet.

ManMe and I got a round lost the rest of the group. We huddled in a corner catching up and laughing our asses off. Time began to pass, and we closed down the top floor of the bar.  I honestly can't tell you what we talked about outside beer and movies, but I do know that I haven't laughed like that with a guy in a really long time.

After getting kicked off the top floor, we reunited with the group on the bottom floor and continued joking and laughing and having a really, really, really great time. There were six of us, and the whole group was just a blast to be around.

Finally, someone looked at their watch, and the boys wanted to grab falafels, so we went over to the falafel place (IDK the name of it. I wasn't really paying attention to anything aside from the hand in mine and the awesome guy attached to it).

They all made me try my first falafel, for which I do not particularly care. I don't really like the spices. They're not my bag of tea.

We headed back to the house we all pregamed at, and I spent the next 8 hours, essentially till sunrise, talking to this guy who I didn't even know existed four weeks ago. He's like this long lost friend that knows you well enough to know you, but still has endless questions for you.

I honestly think that I could have talked to him for another 8 straight hours... and then another... and then another, because we never run out of topics, but even if we did. I feel so comfortable just sitting next to him that I wouldn't care if we weren't talking, because guess what...


There's no unnecessary squirming or wiggling. Just pure unadulterated snuggles. And if you remember the beginning of part one of this post, you'll remember how much I like just staying still. So you can imagine how pleasantly comfortable I found myself in his arms.

So now he has left the district again, and we've resumed our texting.

What is it?
I don't care.
I'm just so happily contented with having a new amazing friend that I really don't care.

(Found Here)

If you care to put two and two together, and you follow me on twitter - check out the photo in between the Call Me Panties and the Naked Giraffe. 

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