"Do You Want to go on an Adventure?"

Quivering with anticipation (or hormones), I woke up the other morning, bleary-eyed but excited about my date with The Adventurer (TA) that night.

I remembered I could be an attractive girl, and put on a grey dress that hugged my curves. It had 3/4-sleeves, and hit above my knees. As always, I paired that dress with black boots with a blue zipper in the back of them. This is my uniform: a dress always paired with boots. This was also what I avoided on my first date with TA. In a way I'm glad because he had those damn hungry eyes. He could wait for that, I thought. So I broke the norm, and put on some make-up and did my hair before walking out to greet the day.

As I got into work, my boss sensed something different. Usually I'm wearing work pants, a blouse (fine, a flannel shirt), and boots. "What's going on? Look at you! You look great!" he exclaimed, with that mint julep Southern drawl.

"...I have a date tonight."

"Oh? With The Trainer?!"

"No...another guy"

Eyebrows raised he said allright then, and stopped prying. Before anyone blows any whistles out there, my boss is awesome; the right mix of fatherly figure, motivator, and jokester. This conversation could have happened with anyone.

Anyway...

I continued to slave at my desk, wandered to different departments, not hearing a word about where I was going tonight. The damsel in me figured he's the man who asked me out in the first place. I'll let him make the plans. It's strange to say it since I do take pride in holding my own and taking care of myself, which brings me to Queen B and her girls:

Finally the text I was waiting for all day: he remembered (good job) my favorite restaurant and he wanted to go because he had never tried it. I said I'd meet him there.

Later on, I walked towards this place that with the best of intentions, but apprehensive about my needs. Not those needs but...you know? NEEDS.

By no stretch of the imagination am I a prude, but I'm definitely not a girl who hits it and quits. But it had been awhile. I carried a hip-rolling strut with my stride. Maybe, if it did happen, it would be okay....

Once I opened the door to the restaurant, I was greeted with a smile and those eyes. They wandered up my figure happily before our hostess led us to the table.

This restaurant is my favorite for many reasons: the large windows made for people watching, the live music (which happened to be going on that night), and of course the food. We barely browsed the menu before he decided to surprise me again. I told him I usually get The Zen of Zin wine. I figured he knew of it from his past job as a liquor salesman.

"Want to just get a bottle?"

A bottle? Most guys just buy you a singular drink with dinner, right? Then again, I don't know much about going out on dates. Since he was in, I was in. The scenery was completely forgettable for me. What sticks out for me is just how much we talked and laughed...the way his elbows rested on the table, hands clasped just gazing at me with those blue eyes. The way I could never figure out if I should part my hair one way or the other, but settling on twirling and behind my ears instead. By the time I came out of my environmental euphoria, there was a bottle of wine down, half the patrons paid out, and the acoustic stylings of overdone covers muted.

"Do you want to go on an adventure tonight?"

The Zen was speaking, and I was its mouthpiece. Eyebrows raised, he stammered to get out an answer. I suggested there's a place we can sing karaoke, and we can get free shots each time we sing.

Like a politician answering the hard-hitting questions, he said it's a go. We still had time before the club opened its doors, so we walked up to the bar for a beer.

Damn. Here we go again. I reached into the crevices of my college-aged mind: is it liquor before beer you're in the clear? I've mixed before...and I walked here. I'm perfectly fine. The Zen said so.

I ordered first while he browsed the beer menu. When he asked what I ordered, he said he was getting the same thing. It's like that moment when you find out you have something it common. It's that warm coating that surrounds your childlike heart before it rushes to your face, forcing an uncontrollable smile. That is how everything has felt with him. It was easy for me to be, well, me: fire-spinning, sailor-mouth, smartass-yet-demure me.

There's a catch here too, by the way.

My friends are obviously my army. When I have a date with a new, I tell them where I am. Florida prides itself on hurricane preparedness. This is no different. I told my friends that I was bringing him to karaoke, and thought he'd like them and would fit into our circle.

Recall that warm coating around the heart? The same feeling applies to knowing, really knowing, that I could bring him around my friends, and it wouldn't be weird. It wouldn't be him checking his phone while our crew gets into inside jokes. It wouldn't be constant apologies for their behavior. Jax Single Girl has discovered another need: If you wanna be lover, you gotta get with my friends. 

We made our way outside and he offered to drive. That and I would be a good co-pilot since he had never been to this place before. As I started to give him directions at the red light, he reached for my hand. TA just goes for it. And he gazed at me, starry-eyed and happy to go on an adventure.

This club is where the theater kids go to let loose and sing their happy hearts out. It's also where the BDSM set go for a good gothic time, and where my fire troupe often performs. I greeted the bartender by first name, which surprised TA. Yes, cupcake...I apparently know all the bartenders in town. So we ordered our first round, and I started to flip through the song lists.

"By the way, you have to sing since I brought you here."

This time the beer decided to be my ventriloquist. He started to laugh and agreed. I chose a song and walked it up to the DJ, leaving TA unattended. It bothered him that I wouldn't tell him what song I chose, in a fun way of course. And he remembered that I usually sing No Doubt. He rattled off a few songs, but he couldn't get what I chose right. It seemed to fit my mood, so I chose Bathwater.

A couple of songs before I got onto the stage, my comedian friend entered the bar. Their conversations flowed naturally, which made me very happy. Everything was just perfect. TA left for a moment, and my friend looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't within earshot.

"He's dreamy!"

Thanks, pal. I think so. I should also point out this is Glitterbeard's brother. He's also one of two of my amazing army that showed up. My blue-haired siren joined us later, enjoying the show with us.

So I sang to my heart's content, and he loved what he heard from me. His set followed mine, and apparently we were going the distance. I wasn't sure if I could handle anymore innuendo that night, which is saying a lot considering the company I keep. My bartender had already poured his free shot, and I was courteous to wait till he was done with his set before I took my own. With a sigh of relief that he was done singing, I congratulated him on his performance (...speaking of innuendo), and he cheered to a night of adventurous fun. There's that warm coating on my heart again...

But we were stuck together by hands touching, my knees against his, and his other arm around my shoulder, letting it graze my back from time to time.

The night was approaching early morning, so we decided to pay up and leave after my second song. TA said he didn't remember starting a tab. My independent streak was showing, and I told him I left my card at the bar. The next thing I know, TA is walking up there, handing me back my card, and paying for our tab. This guy...I must remember to thank him again.

We made our way back to my place, and he parked in my driveway. I thanked him for another awesome night. With willing eyes and smiles on our faces, we met with a kiss. Wow, he's a good kisser. We're still kissing...did the seat just lean back?

Needless to say, he was allowed inside my house that night. A lady should never say too much, but I will say that he was an attentive lover. It was intense. Clearly, we were both thinking about this since we first met. I guess that's part of the explanation for chemistry, and the way it works with two people.

After all was said and done, he told me he couldn't believe he met me. We kissed good night and I sent him home.

I can't believe I almost didn't give you a chance. I internally apologized for ever referring to him as Beer Man.

I had to hide my grin the next day. It was permanently tattooed on my face. One lost wallet, another (pious) visit to my home, and another kiss later, he is coming to my next fire show.

I like this adventure. I like it a lot. Yes, it's obvious I engage in risky behavior, but matters of the heart are risky too.

Letting the warmth fill the holes in my heart, and harden it sounds like a greater risk than bringing a guy on the second date home. Like every adventure I've had, it was totally worth it.

More than just a conquest, he is definitely worth it. 

World...I introduce to you, Coffee Shop Boy

I may have met my goofy match. Maybe. At least it's fun for now. I still don't know where this is going, but if there's more of this, I really won't complain.

I'm Only Going to Say this Once

Mindy Kaling totally has it right. Older men are where it's at.

Seriously. They know how to take care of a woman in every way that a woman knows how to be taken care of.

This is where I'm going to let your imagination take charge.

Still, I must say that CSB isn't without his flaws. But then again, who isn't? He goes out often (days that end in Y) and he smokes. But once again, I only have a handful of need that need to be met: treat me well, make me laugh, have your act together. So far, he is meeting all three of my needs. So why fight it?

I would be lying if I said I didn't struggle with myself a bit. Was this too fast too soon? I had to (and continue to) remind myself that I typically don't do the straight and narrow very well. Of course it shouldn't be an excuse for absolute excess and debauchery. I am sincerely having to force myself to enjoy this and go with the flow. I try not to focus on the what ifs: what if he's stringing me along? What if this is just something to pass the time for him?

But all signs are pointing the other way. My past experiences with The Chase have often led me to the same conclusion: there are always risks involved, and with each adventure, every dating experience becomes a little bit better. Like everyone else trying to enjoy some time with potential someone special, I worry that it may not work out. Because it's going so damn well. And if I haven't made it clear enough, I really want this to work out. It would be foolish if I didn't at least admit that I'm not sure if I'm going about it the right way. A lot of my actions with CSB are quite unorthodox. I believe if I took the more conservative approach, we wouldn't be at this point. Either method I would take, I know that I want to keep CSB in my life.

But more than that, I want to believe that he wants me in his life as well.

But I'm observing behaviors from CSB that I can't help but relish. Last night he was telling me he offered to fix the coffee shop owner's bike. Why? Because CSB wants him to experience the thrill of a simple ride again. Wow. I thought that was extremely admirable. That nugget made him much sexier than I could have anticipated. He even texted me a picture of the owner on his bike, content with the selfless gesture from CSB. On top of this,he is also incredibly intent and focused on school, no matter the surroundings.


But when he moves his focus on me? It's quite difficult to put into words. In keeping with the theme of our adventure, the best way I can describe it is magic. He moves me in ways that I didn't imagine possible. And I've only known this man for a week! ONE WEEK! Last night, we spent the good part of two hours in his house YouTubing music we love. And he gazed at me across his bed as I sang Regina Spektor and introduced him to She & Him. I'm so impressed with you, he whispered to me. He warmed my stomach with his hands all night. He played with my hair. He nibbled on my legs. If this talk isn't making you want to make babies, I don't know what will.

Slowly we began to intertwine. He whispered directions in my ear. Said my name. Pulled my hips and leaned in with each kiss. He even asked me if I was okay and if there was anything else he could do to make me feel better. I assure you I was feeling quite fantastic. We were up all night, doing this dance. After a warm embrace, he moved my body and tucked me in. Where did I find this man?

I have to wonder: if I notice all these amazing things about him, what can I offer? Do I have what it takes to give him what he wants or needs? Because I know I have a lot to give. Does he want what I have, more than just a strong physical connection? I hear the echos of my friends ringing in my ear: Just enjoy it. I definitely am! But it's difficult and foolish to admit that I want something more from this. Of course I would. Everyone loves getting extra dessert! I look forward to more midnight adventures with CSB. I must admit: I love that this chase is working both ways.

All The Fun Stuff Happens After Midnight

Let's face it: even if this never develops, I will forever have this story about me and Coffee Shop Boy. And it's a good story! And here's the thing about good stories: the more they're retold, the more legendary they get.

I was out on a Saturday night, celebrating a friend's birthday...after celebrating another friend's birthday earlier in the day. I assure you, I was extremely tired. So after a few drinks to celebrate another joyous year, I decided it was definitely time to go home. I left the bar and started to walk towards my car. I parked a around the corner from the coffee shop. It was a lovely brisk night, and decided to grab a cup of coffee to go. Needed to warm my body and wake up a bit. I literally reach into my left pocket of my red trench coat when all of a sudden, I felt a buzz.

Who in the world would text me at midnight? Could it be? It was! It was Coffee Shop Boy! I was quite surprised...and all of a sudden not so tired. He asked what I was doing. Oh nothing. Just busy not being tired in the off chance you want to see me. And guess what? He did! He rode his beautiful Triumph from the other side of town to spend some time together. My caramel mocha wasn't calming my nerves or warming me up fast enough. So there I sat, for 15 minutes, enjoying a warm cup filling in my friends on the news of the evening. A million puppies couldn't encourage anymore squees than this news. Good thing I looked cute that night. With the exception of my heel on my boot being broken (which he politely and supposedly didn't notice until I brought it up), I was wearing a red trench coat, a floral skirt, and a turtleneck. Also, I had great hair. Everything was truly coming up roses.

Then there he was, one headlight flashing at me as I sat outside. Like a movie, he removed my helmet and suggested we have a drink or two with him. I really couldn't say anything about that being a bold statement. I'm the one who made a magician give him my phone number, after all. A drink at midnight with a complete stranger? Why not? At that moment, I felt my old, Asian mother yelling in my ear...something about strangers, only bad things happening at midnight, and all. But for some reason, it was okay. I truly believed I wouldn't end up in a ditch somewhere being mistaken for a mannequin.

He didn't have another helmet (which made me sad) so I followed him to a bar I've never been to before. He was even kind enough to wait for me after he ran a yellow light. I drive a car full of German engineering. He seriously underestimates me. So we enter this club where house music is playing. So far so good. I feel kind of foolish though, looking more polished than usual while everyone looks comfortable in club gear. I don't usually look this put together. In fact, my lack of leather and studs made me feel slightly naked. He orders me a Jaeger and Red Bull (no, he didn't ask if I drank Jaeger). I was shocked at his choice, but decided to go with it. What did I have to lose? I drove myself there and could leave if it got terrible. And then the real talk began.

Me: So I didn't scare you by way of magic tricks?
CSB: I was really impressed! I was in a seriously bad mood that day. My ex came in the shop, which was weird, and it made it worse. Next thing I know Andy is walking up to me saying he had to show me a trick.And somehow I have a girl's number in my hand. I failed the online math quiz I was working on three times because I've thought about you all night!
Me: Wow. Well I kind of figured at best you'd be flattered. I was scared to go through with it!
CSB: I'm glad you did though. You're cute. I was looking for you, but you left.

Cue this scene in my head.

I started laughing a little bit. I admitted I ran away just in case. I guess that added to my charm. But let's face it: most people would run away after simply thinking about being so bold to talk to a boy. I definitely needed to run away after going through with it! Now I'm the one who's flattered. More than anything, I was glad that he knew who I was after Andy mentioned a dark-haired girl who played with fire. Here's a tip: We're pretty much all brunettes.

We chatted over another drink. But it flowed naturally. And luckily for me, it was a cold night. He kept putting his hands on my face to warm them up. And eventually his nose on my neck. Have mercy...Oh, don't worry kids. I told him my boundaries. I called him out on being fresh. In fact, I think he might have liked it. He also introduced me to the bouncer who is also his friend. He was this short, troll-looking man with odd piercings and tattoos. Between magicians, fire friends, odd bouncers, and house music, I was feeling at home.

That night, I learned that CSB spent ten years in the Navy, did something involving ratios, is great at math (with the exception of the time I made him fail his math quiz), and has traveled all over the world, worked on planes in spite of having a fear of heights. He also owned two homes, and rents one of them out to some friends and is going to school for IT. What's that? Ten years? So how old is he? I'm 26...he's 33. So does age matter? Not when you're having fun! If he's not worrying about it, I won't either. After two drinks, he grabs my hand.

CSB: Let's go to Kickbacks.

This experience of being adventurous is very different on the other end. I'm usually the one prefacing every conversation with "I have an idea" or "Let's go on an adventure." This guy isn't prefacing anything. He's making me live it with him.

We showed up less than five minutes until the kitchen close and he randomly ordered us chili cheese fries. He unwrapped the silverware for me, and placed it neatly on my right side. Every now and then he would try to warm his nose. It was sweet. And throughout the night, I was glad I had great hair. He couldn't stop playing with it. Ladies, unless he's a creeper, you KNOW we love when men play with our hair. Every time I would pull it up, he'd pull out my hair tie. He said it looks much better down. Wow. How did we even get to this point, I wondered. So we chatted over some overly saturated fried food, and then it hit me:

It was almost 4 in the morning, and everything about this random date felt natural. He didn't try to get me in bed at this hour and I'd venture to say we both didn't want the evening to end. Still, he knew I was tired, grabbed my hand and helped me off a high-top stool. He lived around the corner from the late-night dinner, so we walked to his place where I parked my car. We hugged and said good night. He asked me to let him know when I got home. I couldn't stop smiling. I thanked him for everything. He took care of me that night...as much as one could be taken care of at midnight by taking a chance with a total stranger.

Once again, I proved to thine own self be true: I defied convention. Instead of thumbing through a catalog of random, uninteresting men online, meeting for drinks and forced conversation, I decided to take a huge risk and carve a dent into my destiny. Look, I don't know where this is going. But I like it anyway. Kerrie was right: trust your gut and you'll never fail.

Well, look at this...he still has my hair tie. And his nose is cold. I guess we're both fixing this problem very soon.

I have big hopes to hold on tight on a wintery evening.

Coffee Shops are Where the Magic Really Happens

I joked the other day that if I were a Playboy Centerfold, my bio sheet (yes, they really have those) would read "Bakes cupcakes, plays with fire, loves people watching, and defies convention."

Unless you're new to my blog, you understand that bad things happen when I try to date the normal way. When me and OGM started to date, it was nice because there were very little strings attached. It felt easy. That was also a problem. He didn't challenge me. He didn't leave me wanting more. That is, until he said he was leaving. You know what they say: You always want what you can't have.

So what, you ask, do coffee shops have to do with any of this? Well, this is a typical first date for many people. At best, you enjoy a good cup of coffee and conversation, along with ample people watching. At worst, you only spent $3.50 for a half-hour date that would've been worse had dinner been involved. For me, I've lived and seen all of these events. But I assure you, my coffee shop was much different than the your fancy la-ti-da coffee house that happen to be on every corner.

First of all, I am a fire performer who has done shows in front of the shop. There were LARPers who would meet once a week to continue a storyline. And the list of regulars reads like a very famous Billy Joel song. We frequently saw Frank the cop. The Foursquare Mayor was always in the house. Raven cruised by on his bicycle, clearly identified by his face tattoo. And most important to this whole story, Andy the Magician. Andy is one of those people I will always hold dear to my heart. It's difficult to find men with many stories to tell, salted and peppered with jokes, fatherly love, and sealed with magic. Andy is this man.

One recent evening, I was out on rollerblades testing them for fire tricks (for curious minds, it was not going well). I know Coffee Shop Boy rides a motorcycle: a beautiful orange Triumph. I know enough about bikes to get by in a conversation! I was skating towards him because traffic was not being kind. I finally found a free space. Sadly, so did he. He pulled in front of me, while I stumbled like a fool over rollerblades...and eventually my words.

Coffee Shop Boy: So you going to try it with fire?
Me: NOBUTIHAVEBEENCONSIDERINGIT

He smiled and walked inside to order a cup. I painstakingly pulled off the blades of shame, and hobbled over to my fellow fire friend. I complained about wanting to talk to him, but not knowing how. She shrugged, and honestly I can't blame her apathetic or unknowing reaction. Girl's married to the man who's been in her life for almost 10 years. One thing you'll learn as a single girl: Asking dating advice from people who've been with someone forever or who are married is just a waste of time. They're just as out of practice as you are. Hence, why trusting one's gut is the way to go. But we're getting there...

I saw Andy chatting with a few of his friends, gingerly playing with a deck of cards. This was a moment that most screenwriters want to capture. I inhaled sharply, eyes widened and told my friend I am going to have Andy perform a magic trick so that guy can have my number.

She, of course, stared because this is simply foreign to her. It's okay; I don't think anyone really knows how to properly make a pass at someone without fear of shame or rejection. I was going to win or fail guns a'blazing! My friend, Dave calmed my nerves and assured me with the following conversation:
"Either way you win. You grew the pair to do such a thing, so even if it doesn't work out, you've proven that you could do it. And if he's not flattered, like most men would be, he doesn't deserve you."

So I sighed, my heart pounding. I wasn't sure at this point if it was because of my nerves or because of the caffeine. But I skipped up to Andy and asked him a "silly question": can he do the card transfer trick so I can give CSB my phone number. Andy told me he would be honored, especially since he hasn't been asked to play cupid for awhile. He had my write my phone number on a blank card and explained he would do a transfer trick in which his name on a separate card and my phone number on a different card would combine. After I saw him walk towards him to perform this trick, a few things crossed my mind: Run, run fast, hide, and finally question what in God's name I just did.


At this point, my friends were outside laughing with me stating they'd never have the guts to do that. It's okay, I said. I'm used to working in extremes. I swear at that point I needed to run away. What if he isn't flattered? What if he finds out who I am and thinks no thanks? So many fears crossed my mind. Finally, I see Andy open the door, crouched over, taking long strides my way. Oh no, I thought. That's the "I have bad news" sulk.

Miraculously, he lifted his head, and a smile stretched his bushy mustache. With two hands giving me the signs for hang loose, he said, "He digs it!" I couldn't be any happier to hug an old Vietnam vet at that point. Andy said CSB was amazed with the trick and the fact that some girl would go that far to get his attention. And Andy, in his wonderful fatherly voice told him: "Hmm. Seems like you have a card now with the one girl's number in this whole entire coffee shop. So...you gonna call her?" And he said yes!

At this point I was hyperventilating like a silly school girl. Suddenly, a buzz in my left jacket pocket. Color me impressed! That was amazing :)

What's the lesson? Take a risk. You'll never know what will happen. Don't get me wrong. I still ran away to my car with a cheeky smile the whole drive home. I did that, I thought. Damn right I did that! To make this story even better, my fire friend's husband got a bag from his car from a recent trip they took to New Orleans. They found me a voodoo doll. For what? To help me find a good man. What impeccable timing. 

So what happens next? Questions of age and proper dating protocol. Let's just say midnight dates with someone you barely know aren't such a terrible thing.

Have Mercy!

Isn't this typically the emotion one feels when they're in the grasp of being extremely twitterpated? I mean...look at this. Any child of the 90's remembers the fabulously coiffed Uncle Jesse from Full House. Have mercy, he would beg. And can you blame him? Becky was a hot beast by 90's standards. I have discovered the stage in dating where one is teetering on the line between really falling for someone through the hot and heavy, and saying the Lord's Prayer: Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Well, not all evil. I can't be good all the time...

I can't emphasize it enough: there is no pressure to give in on either end with me and One Good Man. However I truly believe that resistance is futile. This is where we fail at dating: we fail to realize a good thing and to go for it. The main problem is that the word "good" is relative. Sure, what if the making out is good...but does that mean he's a keeper? At best, he is a keeper for now if that's all he has going for him. Women aren't used to be treated with respect. I'm going to give you a piece of advice. Ladies: date someone who has a younger sister. You can tell a lot about a man by how he treats his mother. However, see how he talks about and treats his younger sister. It'll give you a glimpse into what to expect.

Anyway, sometimes mercy needs to come naturally. Dating is quite unatural to begin with, so we have to take little steps to make it easier on ourselves.

Let me tell you a story: I tend to be fairly brash. Not confrontational. Trust me there is a difference. I ended up calling out this guy who would turn out to be my boyfriend. He kept beating around the bush and simply wouldn't admit that he liked me. So after encouraging him to drink his courage elixir at the bar, I demanded that he tell me what was on his mind. "You have something to tell me," I said. With major hesitation he confessed he had feelings for me. Don't worry, I returned the favor and told him I liked him too. I'm not that mean! He didn't like being forced into this confession. Here's how the rest of the conversation went:

Me: I'm helping! It's not good to hold in your feelings! I'm your angel of mercy!
Him: THEN PUT ME DOWN!

I guess I could've been so kind as to let him down gently. The moral of this story is that you have to be willing to give into your feelings, and you can't force someone to give into theirs. Trust me, I obviously tried and I think that set the tone for the rest of our relationship. You simply can't force anything that isn't there and isn't going to work. I also think I scared him...I will try not to do that anymore. No promises.

So where do I stand now? Well, temptation is fun to give into but only if both parties are on the same page. It's so much more fun that way! This is where I get that feeling of no pressure. If he's right there and I'm right there, it's only fireworks from here...at least for the moment. In dating, all you can really do is seize the moment anyway.

And this is more than a sexual assumption. It keeps going back to trusting your gut. During this process I've learned to listen to it, converse with it, reach a mutual understanding with it. Although me and my instincts are getting along, it's still a very complicated relationship. I'm definitely out of my comfort zone and yet there is a small amount of comfort knowing that I don't feel forced, nor am I forcing anything else. Women, we have intuition for a reason. It's not only for protection. We also have to use it to nurture. Men seem to dig that kind of thing.

In the meantime, this song sums it up perfectly.
I'm begging