"At This Rate You Can Eat Free Dinner All Week!"

My little, mousey-voiced friend keeps asking about my dating adventures, and she came up with that little gem.

She's right. I very well could!

(I'm like Mary Anne: unsure of myself, cries at ASPCA commercials, and what are boys?)

There are many things to consider. Men on both dating sites are messaging me daily. And the current men in this journey are all in some shape or fashion chasing me. Me? Why? I'm smarmy book nerd by day, and seductive fire performer at night. I've yet to find the right kind of man to handle those extremes. And yet they see something worthy in me.

For starters, The Trainer isn't quite sure if he's really going to move. He has been blowing up my phone for the last few days. I don't want to simply say I've moved on, but after what happened with OGM, I don't want to go on a few more dates with him and get too invested if he does end up moving. That and he probably couldn't handle my rebellious streak. I only say this because his conversations lately seem to beat around the bush:

"Hey you. What are you up to?"

Me: "Nothing much. How are you?"

"Good. Good. I'm watching a movie marathon and am looking forward to a long weekend. I have a lot of time for once."

Me: "Oh. Well good!"

"Yeah" 

Really? Man up if you want to go on another date. Would I agree to it? Probably not, but I simply can't be bothered by men whose pair is smaller than mine. He may be intimidated by me. And that's another thing I won't be able to accept with my future partner, let alone a guy I'm simply dating.

I also stopped calling Indy. He didn't bore me, but I don't need a wet blanket sopping up the adventure. He keeps me on the phone for two hours and one hour of it is blatant interruption. That got way old rather quickly. Very nice guy, and gave me some super kind and sincere compliments. I really did enjoy our conversations (the times I got a word in), but I don't have time to sit around being the girl of someone's dreams. My profiles make it clear: join me in this journey, not let's meet, settle, and forever be intertwined in matters of the heart.

Things with The Adventurer have been quiet since we last talked. I'm pretty sure it's a number of reasons, main reason being that insane 2nd date coitus probably wasn't the wisest idea. I invited him to a show but he said he had family in town. Whether or not that's true, it doesn't really bother me. Trust me, I'm surprised about that part too. I'm pretty sure he wants to date around and see what else is out there. He could be like me in that regard. It's become this awkward line dance where you're switching partners; sometimes you do-si-do and your partner has two left feet, but your next partner matches your rhythm perfectly.

Now it seems another guy has joined my journey.

Remember how I mentioned this particular dating site strongly encourages its users to talk to ten people when they initially sign up? Well, The Dragon was one of the ten. I took a look at his photo and thought that I had a snowball's chance in hell. He's gorgeous. Looking at my journey, I seem to be opting for the dark hair, blue eye types. Like mischief and innocence, I think it's a wonderful combination. I truly need to start giving myself a little more credit.

So I sent him a message telling him that I thought that it was awesome that he rode his Harley on The Tail of The Dragon (thank you jerk ex for teaching me a thing or two about motorcycles) and that I had an inexplicable fear of rollercoasters myself.

It took him a few days, but he messaged me asking to chat. Well...my schedule is chaotic at best. Between eating free dinners this week, shows, work, and me time, I just don't check my messages on either dating site very often. Besides, I enjoy the chase! I told him I'd talk to him soon, which he didn't seem thrilled with. Guys (and ladies), "K" is never an appropriate response when you're texting, emailing, or instant messaging. It's the passive aggressive Asian mother of all responses.

Last night I was prepping for my set when I got a notification from him asking if it was my fire group that was on another side of town. I told him no, but we were at a different venue. He messaged back saying that we should chat soon in the off chance he may not be single very long...winky face.

...oh really? Who you tellin'?

So I laughed (or tried to laugh via instant message. I don't think he could tell) and gave him my number. He texted me right away! The yellow energy drink flowing through my veins encouraged me to send him a pic of me in costume: a cute little sailor. He enjoyed it. Looking back I don't know why I did that. Possibly to see if he really did find me attractive. Hell, when you're scared putting yourself out there sometimes, how do you even know? He said he was working that night and would be up late. I checked the clock a little later. It was after midnight. What kind of legitimate work does a man do after midnight?

Well, let's go over some Dragon Stats:

- Male 29
- Has adopted lesbian sister
- Works in law enforcement (hellloooo man in uniform!)
- Going to law school after finishing his senior year at the local state university

Okay, I also did extra recon. After doing the ol' Google search, I discovered that he and I have some friends in common. It's strange because they're people who I've done shows with, or people I haven't spoken to in awhile. I've been asking around to see if they could tell me anything about them.

Swoon. He looks good on paper. We'll see if this comes to fruition. In the meantime I have come to a very important realization:

If I don't take it seriously, dating isn't a horrible experience.

One would think that with the many ways I approach my life that I would be quick to understand that right away. Between releasing my initial heartbreak with The Trainer, realizing that Indy may not be able to handle another chaotic adventure, and The Adventurer exploring his uncharted domain, I really am liberated from the fears and uncertainty that comes with dating.

There are reasons people say "it's just a date." There is no lease or fine print on a contract. It's getting to know someone and having a good time for a few hours. If it happens to expand beyond that, awesome. If not, there are other suitors ready and waiting, maybe not immediately, but in due time. Lining up these four men, I realize that I'm to be sought after. I am awesome and the right men will see that. There is no question. I often confide in my burlesque mama. We chat about our love lives and bond over stories of love and heartbreak. One day, she told me to never settle.

I haven't yet, and believe me, it's probably the best dating advice I've ever received.

"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. 

Cheers to an Awesome Night

One thing that I'm learning in this new adventure: Talking to two men at the same time is painfully difficult. It's a fun challenge, but I have to treat this like I'm studying for a final. For the last couple of days, I checked Indy and Beer Man's profiles, reviewed, and made sure to commit certain parts of their profiles to memory so I don't goof up in any of our conversations.

Because how embarrassing would it be to bring up Beer Man's time in Brazil? Oh that's not right...my bad. And honestly it feels like cheating. I do not like cheaters. In many ways I'm an extremely non-judgmental person. But once I discover someone is a cheater, it leaves a certain distaste in my mouth. Yes, I understand that people change, but it's like a stain on their foreheads sometimes.

All of that aside, I have to go with the assumption in these men's profiles that they are indeed single and unattached. Can we get a Single Ladies reference in here?

That's better.

Alas, before my date with Beer Man the other night, I was getting dolled up after a long conversation with Indy. I was pretty over the moon about talking to him, but had minimal expectations for Beer Man. Obviously, I gave him a horrible nickname.

My survival instincts were on high alert. I let my friends know where I was. My emergency text was at the ready. I stayed close to home. I kept my appearance realistic and low on sex appeal. I knew how to hold my keys intertwined in my fingers in case I needed to be defensive.

Jax Single Girl was more prepared than an Eagle Scout.

So I walked out of my door late at night, and headed toward the bar that we were supposed to meet. This is one dating rule I broke. I understand it's pretty normal to meet at a bar on the first date. However, I like to keep my mind alert and ready when meeting someone new. After texting him what I was wearing I met eyes with him, smiled, and said hello as we walked into the bar.

This is the kind of bar the cool kids talk about. And by cool kids, I mean hipsters. Black-rimmed glasses, flannel, men-in-girl-pant hipsters. There is a bathtub in the bar when you first walk in, and most drinks are served in mason jars, a subtle ironic failure and jab against the redneck heart of Jacksonville.

He looked better than his pictures. Don't get me wrong here. Looks aren't everything, but when you're dating someone based on an online profile, they better be presentable. Beer Man is a tall brunette with a baby face.

Somehow the conversation came easily. I know I've said that about other dates, but it was different this time. I jumped right in as if I was talking to my best of friends. When you are with your true friends, you don't hold back who you are. There is no surface to scratch. I'm pretty positive I said one or two four-letter words in my first few sentences to Beer Man. Luckily he didn't mind.

It also turned out that one of my best friends from high school happened to be there with her husband. I ran up to her right after we ordered our drinks, and gave her a hug. She awkwardly pulled back and with her inquisitive face started to ask if I was on a date. Through clenched teeth and a forced smile I told her that this was a first date and that we had just walked in. She locked her eyes to mine as if to say "Good luck and vaya con dios." She later told me that I looked happy, which was good to know.

I don't know if it was because I wanted to force the time to go faster in case this was a bust, or if I had a brief moment of bravado, but I started to ask the standard first date questions about himself one right after the other: where do you work, do you like it, where did you go to school, do you like this bar, etc.

I think I'll blame the supermoon for the fastidious speed dating interview I gave him...

But he ran with it, and it seemed to work well. As we were keeping the conversation flowing, we noticed the bar patrons next to us laughing as the sound of metal was dinging against the bar shelves. There is a ring toss game where you take rings of mason jars, throw them at the shelves, and if you get a ring around the bottle of liquor, you get a free shot of it.

Here's how I knew he was an adventurer much like me. (Ed. Note: change his nickname from Beer Man to The Adventurer...not to be confused with Indy).  With a charming, mischievous smile, he proclaimed that we should do it. Before I could complain about my short stature and T-Rex arms, he was already asking the bartender for the rings. We both failed miserably, but were laughing the entire time. After the round of Redneck Ring Toss, we started to talk about if we'd be happy with the shots we could have won.

I explained I was a whiskey girl, and told him about Fireball: a cinnamon cup of goodness. He explained that he used to be a liquor salesman and tried that, and is also a fan of red wine. That was one of many things we had in common, I would find out. I told him that my drink of choice lately was a Fireball shot dropped in a glass of cider. His eyes got big and another tight-lipped smile grew on his face.

"The night is young. I don't have anything to do and I imagine you don't either. Let's go to your bar and try some Fireball with cider there."

Is this what it's like to date me?

CSB was an adventurer too, but I was just along for the ride. There was a sense of confidence with The Adventurer that he could be trusted with my sense of risk and abandonment...at least for that night. Like a willing Bonnie to his Clyde, I said it sounded like a good idea. His charisma and machismo weren't offensive. It truly came off as genuine confidence.

So we walked the busy streets a few blocks down to "my bar." That's how quickly conversation flowed. I told him that my usual bar is a hole-in-the-wall, dank, dirty, smoke-filled space. He seemed okay with that. I also had a sense of guilt because I wondered if it was bad that I "had" a bar. I didn't want to come off as a daily drunk, but at the same time I remembered what I told myself earlier: I'm here for fun. This is just a date.

I took him to the back entrance, which I playfully chimed was where the regulars go. We walked up to the bar, and I was greeted with my first name, followed by one of the bartenders yelling, with her emphysema-riddled voice "YA BACK AGAIN, HUH?!" I may or may not have been there twice earlier that week. I stuttered a laugh and sheepishly met eyes with The Adventurer. This was the first of many times this night where he had hungry eyes. Yes, Patrick Swayze-type, jump-in-my-arms-in-the-lake-Baby, Dirty Dancing hungry eyes. He likes this about me. And guilt again. I don't want to be that girl who he thinks he can always take to the bar, get drunk, and get lucky. In his defense, he was a total gentleman that night.

After explaining the Fireball concoction to another bartender, I took out my card to offer to pay. The Adventurer stopped me and said he'll get it. Promising, I thought. So I handed him his glass and asked if we should raise them for anything.

"Here's to an already awesome night!"

He was right. We locked eyes with sincere ear-to-ear grins.. I probably could have broken that glass out of sheer excitement. I really was having a blast.

We sat at a high-top, chatting about movies we liked and the music from the jukebox. We really had a lot in common. He then recalled in a message I sent that day that I loved this bar because of Big Buck Hunt. There is nothing more satisfying than releasing rage after a day of dealing with absolute nonsense and stress, and shooting Bambi's dad...and his little critter friends too. He got up, got some cash, and put money in the machine. It's very important that I emphasize that none of this was asked. He just did it. He left me with no choice but to completely own him at this game.

To me this was a bit of a test: I get mouthy and angry if I don't get all three bucks each game. Even as I was swearing and getting jumpy with this neon-orange rifle, he was amused and enjoying it. That was so telling because I kept thinking I was out with my closest friends. I wasn't hiding. I wasn't trying to be this demure vision on an online profile. I wasn't forcing intelligent conversation about philosophy and reason.

I was having a good time being myself around someone who was pretty damn fine with it. Bless it.

After that round, he asked if I wanted another drink. Playing it safe, I said a beer was fine. Again, I didn't want to get too drunk and lose all inhibition. He came back, and proceeded to put money in the bowling video game. I'm horrible at bowling in real life, so this was not going to be my name. He won fair and square. And laughed about how bad we did at Redneck Ring Toss. Clearly, we were finding our niche in both bar games and in the dating game.

As we made our way back to the bar, we sat facing each other. I had another Cher Horowitz moment as I did many moons ago. "Look at that body language. Legs crossed towards each other. That is an unequivocal sex invite!" It was approaching last call somehow, and there was a lot of space at the bar. But my knees touched his, and I didn't budge. He didn't either. As we finished another beer (he keeps surprising me with his ninja skills), he was listening me narrate a story of sorts. But those eyes...they're not the kind of eyes that you first notice when you look at someone who has nice eyes. But they were intense. He would lean on the bar, elbow bent, hand cupping his head, staring at me with those hungry eyes. I wasn't feeling uncomfortable, but like everything else about him, it kept surprising me.

When Emphysema Emily yelled last call, we peeled ourselves off the barstools and started to walk closer to our homes. I don't remember what we were talking about (another reason I'm hesitant to drink on a first date), but the next thing I know, he grabbed my hand and held it. Did he understand that quickly that hand holding is a big deal for me? I didn't mind. In fact, it was a nice gesture. Instead of protecting me from monsters under the bed, he was protecting me from surly bar patrons at an ungodly hour.

 As we approached the bar I brazenly asked if he was going to walk me home or if it was time to say good-bye. It would be a gentlemanly thing to do, he explained, to walk a lady home.

In the sea of pubs and hipster bars, there is a gay bar on the corner. I heard an effeminate voice drunkenly scream my name. My eyes widened to see my darling queen in his glitterbearded glory reaching out for a "hey girl."

I hugged him and greeted him while his partner, also in drag, pulled me close and drunkenly told me he loved me and fawned over me for a few moments. All the while, The Adventurer standing by, amused with hands in his pockets.

"AY! WHO IS THAT MAN RIGHT THERE GIRL?!"

Sheepishly again, I told him I was on a date. My queen is a mama bear who looks out for me and anyone he loves. To my surprise, as he has been good at all night, he walked up to my darling glitterbeard and introduced himself. I could see in my periphery, Glitterbeard sizing him up. I didn't want to keep them from whatever after party they had, so I said that The Adventurer was walking me home.

"YEAH, WALK MY GIRL HOME AND TAKE CARE OF HER! LOOK AT THEM HOLDING HANDS BEING CUTE AND SHIT! GO ON, GIRL!"

Paraphrasing, but that's really the gist of it. This date, was an adventure for sure.

He walked me up to my doorstep, and I gave him a long, awkward drunken hug (fine two) goodbye.

As I lay in bed, reflecting on this crazy journey of juggling multiple men, I grinned. This could be a good thing. I have always been a risk taker, and that night wasn't any different. I'm glad I gave him a chance, booze and all.

Date #2 is coming in a couple of days.

The journey continues....