Don’t Show Up to a Gun Fight with a Stapler

CHRIS:  How did your date go?

ME:  Well, as predicted, he was super great guy, but no spark.  Even after having 2.5 glasses of wine, I still didn’t feel like I wanted to kiss him.  And now, he’s totally enamored with me.

CHRIS:  Wow, that’s too bad.  Not even a pity kiss.  Poor guy.

ME:  He showed up in a short-sleeve plaid shirt.  He looked like something out of a JC Penny catalog.  😦

CHRIS:  The poor sap, didn’t have a chance… He showed up to a gun fight with a stapler.

ME:  I think he’s already planning our future together and I’m so not feeling it.  I HATE DATING.

Mr. Vermont was in fact a great guy.  He was good-looking (for his age), established, and knew how to court a girl.  You could tell he was new to the dating scene, because he didn’t hold back his feelings:

MR. VT:  How did I get so lucky? You are the complete package…everything I desire…and more.  🙂

ME:  Awwwww…thank you!  I always thought guys who didn’t get me were big, stupid faces – BIG!  But, thank you for noticing…  You are a great guy, I’m surprised someone hasn’t scooped you up yet.

MR. VT:  Some have tried, but honestly, I have been looking for you…

ME:  *falls out of chair*

MR. VT:  Wish I was there to scoop you up…

He just did everything right from the start and really knew how to make me smile.  It was the simple things like sending me a text in the middle of the day just to let me know he was thinking about me.  Nothing over the top.  He was just thoughtful and sweet.  He even took down his profile from Match from Hell before we met and told me that he just wanted to focus on me – and then he gave me his home phone number.  (Who does that?)  But, it was so nice.  It was refreshing to be pursued by someone who knew what he wanted from the start.

We met on Match from Hell while I was on my Florida 10-day trip with Beth (which, by the way, was SO much better than going to DC for three days!). Mr. Vermont and I both agreed that we wanted to meet as soon as I got back from my trip.  But, after discussing our busy plans over the weekend, we decided to meet that we would have to wait until the following week.  I left it up to him to pick a day during the week and without hesitation he said, “How about Monday night?”

ME:  Do you want me to meet you half way? It is a 1.5 hour ride you know…

MR. VT:  I’ll go the whole way.  You know the area over there.  Pick a nice place for dinner, and I’ll meet you there.

What?  He was going to drive to me?  For once, I didn’t have to go out of my way to meet someone? For once?!


I was looking forward to meeting him, although I knew I wasn’t feeling the same excitement as I did when I first met DC Dude.  But, I was tired of the bad boys and just really wanted to give a good guy a chance.

I had the whole weekend to kill before meeting up with Mr. Vt.   Saturday comes and a few of the girls from the Hen House rally to meet up for drinks and appetizers. I was feeling extra Kitty-Kitty, Meow-Meow because I just had my hair done and I had just came back from Florida the night before.  And, for once, I had a little color on my skin.

(That SPF70 really does work!)

Sporting my high heels and my Victoria Secrets halter-top added the finishing touches to my outfit.  But leave it up to Victoria Secrets to make the plunging v-neck halter top squeeze the girls a bit too much.   I didn’t want to shock anyone with my cleavage, so I decided to tie my cashmere cardigan around my neck, remembering that I only wanted good attention and not the wrong attention.  As usual, I went for the classy, but sexy look.

We get to the first bar, it’s just four of us girls.  I knew it was going to be a great night, because Julie had me laughing even before I ordered my first drink.  We sat down and at a table and DC Dude’s name came up.

Well into my first drink, I throw out a conversation question to the girls: “Why do boys send penis pictures, when they know we will be sharing it with everyone?”  DC Dude and I were over and knowing that I had no allegiance to him anymore, I showed the girls the picture he sent to me on my cell phone.

Julie’s look on her face was priceless. “Who is that?!” she exclaimed.

“It’s DC Dude.”

“Oh, my God!  It’s like the Washington Monument!”


Without a missing a beat, one of the other girls announced that she actually kept a special folder on her cell phone for all of the penis pictures she receives.


We have another round of drinks and order appetizers before we decided to head over to my brother’s bar.

It was a good crowd at The Shaskeen and we got prime real estate – front and center at the bar.  Even though the bar was crowded and Nathan was busy serving up drinks, as soon as he spotted me, he threw down his towel and walked around to the end of the bar through the crowd and gave me a big hug.

That’s code right there…

As the girls continued with the debauchery, I was happily texting Mr. Vermont all night long, until I spotted two very tall guys walk into the bar together. One of them happened to be Rachel’s 27-year old cousin from Boston.  As they staggered over to us looking like a hot mess from all-night dancing, the first thing out of the cousin’s mouth was, “I’m so drunk!”

That’s when bad-girl side of me came out.

*twisting tip of my sinister mustache*

Even with my high-heels, both guys were still taller than me and both of them were still really wound up for clubbing.

Look, this was a no-brainer.  Boston Boy had his eyes set on me, there was no doubt about that as he kept talking and flirting with me.  I feel bad saying this, but I felt so much “zing” with Boston Boy that I quickly forgot about Mr. Vt and tossed my phone into my purse.  From that moment on, it was all about Boston Boy.  I know, that’s really bad, isn’t it…

For the record, I normally ignore stupid-face drunk boys, but Boston Boy was all up in my personal space and was full of the devil.  Boston Boy had game.  You know how it is, when a guy knows just how to put his hand on your hip and knows how to lean in – just enough – to say something in your ear, but then his lips end up oh-so close to yours?

*fanning myself*

Well, it was like that.  He was doing a good job at pushing my buttons and, apparently, pushing the envelope with Nathan.  My poor brother got to see all of Boston Boy’s moves on me – this I know, because, all of a sudden, I hear Nathan yelling from behind me at the bar.

I quickly turned around as soon as Nathan yelled my name, “Hey Carrie, do I have to remind your friend whose house he’s in?!


I turned back to my drunk Boston Boy, “That guy behind the bar, he owns this place…”

“I don’t care…” as he stared at my mouth and leaned in to what appeared to be his attempt to kiss me. I immediately thought to myself that this guy seriously wants to die.

“Well, he’s also my brother. So, behave.”

“I don’t care who he is. Can I kiss you?  I want to kiss you…”

I smiled and pushed him away from me, “Not if you value your life.”

I sat down on the bar stool hoping that crossing my legs in front of him might put some much-needed space between us.  (At least until we left the bar.)

Two of my girlfriends left, so it was just me and Rachel with her cousin and Boston Boy.  At closing time, we all walked out of the bar together as the guys were talking about going to get something to eat.  My mind, however, wasn’t on food.  All I could think about was getting out of my brother’s radar, which I estimated was about 20 feet or so from the entrance of the bar.

As soon as I thought we were at a safe distance from the bar and Hammer’s (the bouncer) view, I stopped Boston Boy on the sidewalk and gave him a long, passionate kiss.

And you know what?  That drunken train-wreck was a damn good kisser!


All four of us piled into Red Rocket and we drove off to the Airport Diner to get something to eat. Those boys needed to sober up!

Sitting in the dinner booth, I happily snuggled up next to Boston Boy who had his great man-hands in mine.  But, poor Rachel sat there teasing me as she pouted about the fact that the only boy left to flirt with was her very good-looking cousin sitting next to her.  Adding to Rachel’s frustration was the fact that Boston Boy kept kissing me but, I didn’t have a care in the world at that point.  He was a damn good kisser.

Breakfast with Boston Boy and Rachel’s cousin was pure entertainment.  Together, those two had us both rolling with laughter.   Even our waitress would double over with laughter listening to the guys banter back and forth.

On the ride home, Rachel offered for all of us to crash at her place.  Her cousin got the couch and Boston Boy and I got her son’s twin bed.

Twin bed.

While Rachel was trying to be hospitable and telling us where everything is, she suddenly realizes that her kid’s bed was going to be used for something other than sleeping. I didn’t care. I had a hot guy and I had condoms in my purse.


I’m sure you’re reading this going, who is this girl?  She never hooks-up with anyone.  But, let me tell you, it took me about a whole five seconds to make the decision to spend the night, because even good girls need to be bad every once in a while.  And who was I to say no to his 6’3″ hard-body and thick Boston accent?????


 And a tattoo!  I love surprises!

In the middle of the night, I remember asking myself, “Why am I not doing this more often?!!!!!”  It was a good question I really needed to ponder at a later time.  And, despite the small, twin bed, Boston Boy and I made it work.

…and then we made it work again in the morning.


ME:  OMG…what a great night! He was great.  He knew how to push my buttons.  Crazy fucker…and of course, I didn’t do any “Princess” maintenance in weeks!  Maybe months!

RACHEL:  OMG!  My kid’s bed!  Gross!

ME:  Well, at least I made sure to throw away the used condoms!  And wrapper… Can you imagine if your kid found it?  “Mommy, what’s this?”  LMAO  I’m sorry, but that’s funny.

RACHEL:  I’m grossed out!  I’m washing the sheets now – do I have to worry about any stuffed animals?

ME:  No stuffed animals were harmed during the night.  What a great way to start my summer.  It was his damn Boston accent that did me in. I’m such a sucker for it. I felt like I was in a Ben Affleck and Matt Damon movie.

Two days later, I had my first date with 47-year old, Mr. Vermont, for dinner.  I knew in the back of my head that going from a hot 27-year old to a 47-year old was a long shot, but I was determined to give nice-guy Mr. Vermont a chance.

Monday night, we met at 6:30pm at Fire Fly, but when I first saw him, I felt no zing.  It was flat.  He showed up wearing khaki’s and a short-sleeved plaid summer shirt.  Was it wishful thinking to hope that, maybe, Mr. VT might have a little swagger?  Maybe I would feel different after a glass of wine…

Dinner was great, the conversation flowed and even though “the girls” were showing, I never caught him looking at them the whole night. Not once.

We drank a whole bottle of Merlot, which usually turns me into the “Kissing Bandit,” but I still didn’t feel anything.  Not one single urge to kiss him. Nadda. So, all he got at the end of the night was a hug.

After my date, I went to The Shaskeen.  I really needed to pee before I drove home, so I stopped in, hoping that I could seek some council with Nathan, but he wasn’t there.  Instead, I spotted Megan, one the of the bartenders, sitting outside on the patio with her friends.

“How did your date go with Mr. Vermont?”

“It was great.  He’s great.  But I think my little romp with Boston Boy on Saturday night killed any chance Mr. Vermont might have had.  I swear, Megs, Mr. Vermont looked like he just walked out of a JC Penny catalog:  Short-sleeved, plaid shirt and khaki’s.  Look at me!” I said, pointing to myself while I stood there in my sexy black high-heels and pencil skirt. “Why can’t I find someone between crazy, train-wreck Boston Boy and super-nice, plaid-shirt Mr. Vermont guy?!!!  Why?!”

*big lip*

The following day, I text Julie:

ME:  I think I’m broken.  Mr. VT is such a nice, normal guy and I feel nothing for him.  But, give me crazy, train-wreck dude from Boston, and I’m totally hot for him.

JULIE:  Vermont is just that – normal, nice, regular, comfortable.  You thrive in huge lights and wild times that are spontaneous – wine ’em, dine ’em….69 ’em.

ME:  You got that right!  LMAO…

I definitely need to reconsider my summer dating game plan…



One thought on “Don’t Show Up to a Gun Fight with a Stapler

  1. Pingback: The Best First Date –

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