Of Rock Stars and Welshmen

Last Wednesday I had an interesting night at work. I had two guys come in in the early evening. They were close to my age – early forties. So of course to me they seemed ancient, lol. They were friendly and talkative, and at some point we ended up talking about relationships, and my lack thereof. Their advice basically boiled down to “you need to find an older man.” In the course of our conversation one of them said the funniest fucking thing: “Your ego is not your amigo.” I don’t know why, but for some reason this cracked me up every time I thought about it.

Later that night three older guys came in. I could tell by their conversation that they were musicians and asked what band they were in. It turns out they’re in that band Cracker. Holy shit they’re actually famous! We were all talking about music for a while and then the conversation once again turned to my love life. And the advice was the same – older men. Of course this was coming from some guys in their 50s, who look much younger and date younger women – the drummer had had a 34-year old girlfriend recently.  All I could think was, “What the fuck is happening today?!”  It was really kind of hilarious.

They ended up putting me on the guest list for their show the next night. Because I am just that cool. 😉

So I went with my friend C. We were looking around at the crowd, and to us everyone seemed kind of old. The funny thing is, most of these people were probably close to our age, but we’re just so used to hanging out with 20-somethings. Sad, I know. There were a few kind of cute guys, but no one worth actually pursuing.

At one point I went to the bar by myself to get a drink, and I saw a kind of cute guy standing there. Preppy and kinda short  – not my usual type, but cute. So I went and stood by him to order. He immediately started talking to me – British accent! Well hello! We talked for a few minutes and then I was kind of like, “Well, I should get back to my friend…” As I walked away, I did the turn back and smile/hair flip move, and sure enough he was still checking me out.

So when I was ready for a refill I went back to that bar, and he was still there. This time he bought my drink, and I invited him to come smoke with me. We were both a little tipsy, and talked for quite a while. His name is Stuart and he’s 41 – holy cow, so age appropriate! He asked for my number and I gave it to him.

The show ended around 11:30, and C had to get up early the next day, so when I got back to town I called L to hang out. She and JW wanted me to come pick them up downtown somewhere, because they were wasted, as usual.  My plan was to pick them up and then go to bar N, because I was starving and they serve cheap food until late. So I went where my friends told me to pick them up, and they’re not there. I call, we go back and forth about where the hell they are, they tell me to pick them up on a specific corner. I drive by, don’t see them, then get a text saying, “Heading to the house.” Fine then, fuck you guys! I decided to go to the bar anyway because I was still starving and I didn’t feel like 7-11 junk food.

I get to bar N, and who should be there but Jacob. Of course, this is just getting better and better! God I could have at least been with people instead of by myself! Grrr! I was not about to leave the bar, though. I just acted like I didn’t see him, and he did the same. He left after not too long, and it made me feel strangely  powerful. I texted C what happened, and she’s like “Damn right he should leave! That’s our bar!” Which is funny because it IS kind of our bar, even though it’s in his neighborhood.

The next day, Friday, I texted Stuart: “How’s your day going? It was great to meet you last night.” He sent back: “The pleasure was all mine. Not sure when you are free but great to meet up Sun or next week.” I thought this meant that he was busy Fri and Sat, so I said I was busy until the next Thurs or Fri. He said, “Not sure I can wait a week. But you are a busy girl, and so very lovely.” So very lovely! For some reason that just really gets me. We ended up making plans to go out the next night.

He took me to dinner in Little Italy, and then we had a few drinks at bar T. Well, I had a few drinks. He had one glass of wine the whole night. I was pacing myself, but still felt like a lush. He said it was partially because he was driving and partially because he was still recovering from Thursday. Really, dude? I thought you were Welsh! It was an ok time I guess – we talked for hours, literally. It didn’t quite feel right, though. For one thing, he is definitely an adult. He’s stable, he has money, he’s been with the same company for 12 years. I’m trying to turn myself into an adult, but I’m not there yet – I still live like I’m in my twenties. You can do that when you work in F&B. We have very different musical tastes – he’s into soul (what is it with the Brits and black music?), I’m an aging hipster, lol. It was like we were having a good conversation but just not really connecting. There wasn’t really any flirting, for example. Although he did tell me it looked like I did yoga, which is just about the nicest compliment you can give someone on their appearance. I don’t know if he was serious, or if it was just a line, but it was nice to hear in any case.

At the end of the night he walked me to my door and went to give me a peck, like kind of pursed lips. Well I’m not having that, I have to find out what I’ve got, and turned it into a real kiss. Not too shabby, sir! He may be short and preppy, be he’s a damn good kisser, I’ll give him that. I decided that I would give it a chance if he called me back, just in the interest of dating an adult, but he never called. Guess he wasn’t into it, either. Oh well. He probably thinks I’m too unstable, and I wouldn’t blame him.


One thought on “Of Rock Stars and Welshmen

  1. Pingback: New Year’s Eve | truthaboutjen

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