Carrie – After my brief stint of being a very unsuccessful Toronto ‘f*ckgirl’, I diagnosed myself with “the boy crazies” and decided it would be best for my mental health, self-worth, and the sanity of my closest friends (who listened to me vent from one boy to the next) to take a break from boys. I deleted my dating apps and started wearing big sweaters to prep for my lonely cuffing season.
“But what about the blog?” I protested (to myself). Well the blog would have to wait.
It’s kind of funny what happens when you decide to stop chasing something. In my case at least, I found that I was being chased instead. Suddenly, I’m no longer swiping on my phone, not looking for guys and over the course of three weeks, I get asked out four times. Four!
One guy went to my high school and was a cool senior with dreads in some of the drama productions. Some of the girls said he was cute, but I could never get past his constant dank scent. I work with the three other guys at the restaurant and there must be a pool going on or something because they’re all making moves on me. One bartender, a stand-up comedian standing at 6’4″, asked me out but is constantly texting other girls in front of me #fukboi; one sk8er kitchen guy who is… not the brightest bulb?; and the last bearded guy who is biologically a girl. Don’t get me wrong – I’m very open minded but this guy wouldn’t even be my type had there not been an added issue that I am strictly-dickly and he is… not.
So there’s that. It was flattering to be asked out in person by these guys but shitty to not reciprocate any of their feelings. After Mr. Blind Spot, I thought I would never like someone again and I would lose that great feeling of having a crush.
Cue Mr. Cardigan. One mild December night in the 6ix, partying with my gurl Samantha, we headed to the Ballroom. I arrived around midnight when thirst levels were in full force and I had spent the next two hours drinking, dancing with friends, finding Samantha on the phone in a bathroom stall with Mr. Benefits (#exposed), and running away from aggressive Russian dudes who kept coming up to me even though I had made it vehemently clear I did not want his drink.
“Vhy you so lonely? All by your lonesome.” (P.S. It’s really hard to write a Russian accent.)
“I’m not lonely. Oh look my friends are over there!” *I point to a random group of girls cause I was v drunk and moderately lost*
“Vell if you want to valk avay to see them, you can.” He tries to flirt.
I think he’s shocked when I take him up on his offer, say a “k bye!” and bail into a crowd.
Now I am essentially blackout at this point but hiding amongst the tall people near the edge of that dance-floor, I remember Mr. Cardigan walking up to me. Blonde hair, blue eyes, waffle knit navy cardigan over a white t-shirt and these beautiful brown oxford-like boots, could you be more of a generic white boy? Whatever, I was into it. I may have been blackout, but the fact that his outfit stuck in my mind meant I was sold.
Snippets of the night that I can recall:
*Three of my friends find me and Mr. Cardigan at around 2:00 a.m. and say goodbye to me, all one at a time.*
Mr. C: Why are you so popular?
Me: (Basic voice) ugh, you know, it just happens.
*15 min later*
Mr. C: So do you wanna get out of here?
Me: Sure. But I am NOT sleeping with you!
(This is a classic Carrie line regardless of whether I do or not.)
*Exiting the club. I start walking left.*
Mr. C: Wait, didn’t you say you lived at __ & __? That’s this way.
Me: (Pretending I’m good with directions) Yeah, but aren’t we getting burrito?
Mr. C: Are we?!
Me: (Shrugs) Guess not.
Us making out on my couch. He removes my bra and I immediately cover my breasts.
“We can’t do this here. I promised my sister!”
She was luckily away on vacation.
Him picking me up and tossing me on my bed. Hot.
Him going down on me. And me passing out… BUT not before saying something extremely weird like “we’re all just Pokemon/Mickey Mouse characters.” I don’t know which show was worse to bring up at that moment.
Us taking things a step further but when he wanted to have sex, blackout Carrie said no. Kudos to her for that act of self restraint! He protests and asks why not? I say, “Because. Do you even know my name?”
Me asking him to leave. Him apologizing, seeming genuinely embarrassed, and putting on his shirt. Me letting him crash on my couch seeing as it was 4 a.m. but then changing my mind and offering him a chance to naked cuddle in my twin bed.
The next morning, I woke up hangry and hungover, forcing myself to get up so I could a) pee, b) sneak out and brush my teeth and c) make turkey bacon and eggs. I made him some too (cause I’m so domestic) and when he thanked me, I said “Best. Hookup. Ever.” in Comic Book Guy’s voice. Because it honestly probably was the best morning for this guy consisting of a BJ and bacon before it was even 9 a.m. The fact he laughed at my crazy instead of running away is a good sign. He even asked for my number!
Alas, as fate would have it, I was leaving to Mexico for a family vacation for two weeks and it’s always awkward to start something up to have it be interrupted. I mean, so much can change in two weeks. Hell, so much had seemed to change in one night. But I had a crush again and that was enough for the books blog.